Life After Death
by Team Damon
Summary: Sequel to Breath of Life. He's overcome a lot to get to where he's at, but he still has a long way to go. She knows that it's not going to be easy, but she also knows that he's worth it. And neither of them have the slightest clue what in the world they're doing. Bucky/OC, post-TWS and non-Civil War compliant. Now complete!
1. Chapter 1

_Eleven years ago_

"I hate him. Everytime he pops up in a scene I just hope Harry or Hermione punches him again."

In a little house mostly forgotten about in the woods outside of Falls Church, Virginia, two young siblings sat together on a couch in the living room, smushed together so that they could read a book at the same time. The younger sister glanced up at her brother in disbelief.

"You hate him?"

"Yeah, he's a Death Eater now. He's gone to the dark side," Paul said, feigning an English accent for the last two words. "So duh."

"He was forced into it!" Summer argued. "He hates what he's doing. He's only doing it because they'll kill him if he doesn't. And he's not doing it very well, either. It's like he's hoping he screws up."

"This is Draco Malfoy!" Paul laughed. "He's the biggest douche in the whole story!"

"Because that's how his father raised him. His father, who is actually evil. I don't think Draco's evil. If he was, Dumbledore would already be dead by now and Draco would be the new hot shot Death Eater, not all pale and sickly and withering away and basically hiding from all of Hogwarts."

Paul snorted dismissively. "You know, Squirt, as a girl, you're supposed to have a crush on, like, Harry or Ron or Cedric -"

"Cedric's been dead for the last two books." She wrinkled her nose and added, "And Ron's a ginger like you. Ew."

"Yeah, but I'm just saying, why do you always pick the weirdest characters to have a crush on?"

"I don't have a crush," she refuted dubiously. "I don't like guys with blonde hair, and Draco's super blonde."

"You like this one."

She rolled her eyes. "Just because I see the horrible situation he's in? He's basically been brainwashed his whole life to be on the wrong side of everything and now he's seeing firsthand what it all really means, and it's horrifying! And now he knows it."

"Maybe, but we'll never find out which of us is right because you keep interrupting and going off on these tangents," Paul said. "At this rate, we'll be lucky to finish this book sometime next year."

"You interrupted first!" she laughed. "I just happened to disagree with you."

"Yeah, well, just so you know, I'm still convinced that Snape is gonna turn out evil."

"And I'm still convinced that you're completely wrong about that," she replied. "Is our bet still on?"

"Heck yeah," Paul grinned. "And since I'm right, it's totally gonna be you doing all the chores for a week."

"Dream on," she smiled. "Now be quiet and let's keep reading."

As they settled back in to restart the somewhat tricky process of two people reading the same book at the same time (because both were too impatient to take turns), their grandmother emerged from the nearby hallway and gave them both a sideways look as she stepped into the kitchen. "Reading more of that garbage witchcraft, I see."

"Always," Paul replied without looking up from the book. Summer snickered next to him.

"Well, one of you kids get your noses out of that book and come chop me an onion." When both grandchildren immediately startled wailing in protest, she rolled her aged brown eyes and pulled out a pair of safety goggles from a drawer and waved it around. "It won't hurt if you wear these!"

"I did it last time," Paul whispered to Summer.

"I did it two times before then," she whispered back.

"Do it or I'll tell her you have a crush on an evil wizard bad guy from our evil book," Paul grinned.

"He's not even evil!" she protested.

"So you do have a crush on him?"

She groaned and slapped her palm over her face. "Paul..."

He laughed and snapped the book shut. "I'll chop the stupid onion. But seriously - I'm starting to get the feeling that one day, when you're all grown up, you're gonna bring home an ax murderer or something and give Grandma a heart attack."

"Oh please," she rolled her eyes. "This town is so boring. I'll probably just end up marrying some boring Army guy like everybody else does."

"Everybody? Summer, you're not even fourteen yet. You don't know everybody in Fall's Church. And I didn't say marry. That's creepy. I'm not letting anyone marry you. Where did you ever get the idea that I would?"

She rolled her eyes and smacked his arm with the book, and then they heard a call from the kitchen. "Onion, before I keel over!"

"Onion, before poor Grandma keels over, Paul," Summer said dramatically, though smiling.

He raised a finger and waved it at her slightly, squinting one of his eyes. "You're a brat, you know that? Talking about getting married and Army guys and Draco Malfoy. I'm gonna go tell."

"What, are you five?" Summer asked, though she looked genuinely nervous now.

Paul grinned. "Ooh, somebody's getting twitchy."

Then he took off, and she tossed the book off of her lap in her rush to chase after him, both of them laughing and yelling names at one another, all while their grandmother rolled her eyes as she heated up a skillet. She'd yell at them for it, but more than anything, she would always be glad that after she was gone, though they wouldn't have much else, they'd always have each other.

* * *

_Don't panic. Don't panic. Don't panic. _

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then opened her eyes and surveyed the clothes that were spread out on the bed before her.

This was easy. This was simple. Just pick out an outfit and be done with it. Just pick out an outfit and then move on to hair and makeup, then leave, and then... go on a date for the first time in over five years. With the technically 96 year old ex-war hero ex-POW ex-brainwashed assassin that had fallen into her life when he fell face-first into her front lawn just over four months ago.

_All right, panic._

She sat down on the bed, trying not to completely lose it, desperately wanting to pick up her phone and scream to somebody, anybody, what was happening, just so she could get it out of her system.

But she couldn't tell Paul, and her list of other people that she could trust was depressingly short, if not nonexistent. She just had to hold it in, get it together, and get ready for her date like a functional adult woman.

But first, she picked up a pillow and screamed into it. It felt oddly pleasant. Then, after dropping it, she looked up at David, her sweet, nonverbal five year old son, who was sitting on the other bed, staring at her like she was completely nuts.

"Thanks for the judgment," she nodded to him. "You get to spend a whole day and night with Captain America and this is how you thank me."

He merely turned his head back to the television he'd been watching, and she blew out a puff of air. Technically, David should be thanking Bucky, since he was the reason why Steve Rogers would be playing babysitter to him tonight. Which brought her back to why she was panicking in the first place.

Of all the ways that she imagined their first meeting would go, after not seeing him for three months following his four week stay at her home in Virginia, being asked out on a date by him was the absolute last thing that she would have expected. And that's why she was so nervous.

It was a date. A real date. It wasn't sharing a home with someone she was initially terrified of before she learned his story and before he saved her and David's life. It wasn't gawking at his occasional shirtless walks from the bathroom to the bedroom, or impulsively kissing him while she was still in shock from watching two HYDRA agents nearly kill her son, or inadvertently distracting him from watching a movie and ending up on his lap with a metal hand up the back of her shirt.

No, this was a date, which is what normal people did when they liked each other. This was sitting down in a public place and eating and talking and whatever else.

What would they talk about? Would they have anything to talk about? Would she end up saying the worst possible things and make him regret even bothering to ask her out?

How would she ever find out if she didn't stop angsting about the date and actually got dressed for it?

Standing resolutely - as much as was possible - she turned and surveyed her choices again. Then, to avoid the trap of trying everything on first and ending up only stressing out more, she grabbed an emerald green wrap dress from the pile of newly bought clothes imported from California and headed off to the bathroom to put it on before she could second guess herself.

Once the dress was on, she looked in the mirror and grimaced. Her makeup from earlier that day was already messed up, and her hair was a bit limp for some reason - lack of humidity? Who knew - and then the dress came off as she decided to hurl herself in the shower. Yes, she decided, showering is good.

She washed her hair twice, possibly to make it smell like her shampoo as much as possible, because she recalled not minding at all when Bucky would bury his nose in it and inhale the scent like it was the best thing he'd ever smelled. Maybe he'd do that again tonight.

Unless he decided that he didn't like her anymore because she turned into a rambling freakshow at dinner. She stared at the bland hotel shower tiles, holding her shampoo bottle, eyes blank as she thought over every possible horrible outcome of the date. And there were plenty to think over.

This was a lot easier when he was just a super dangerous fugitive hiding out in her house who occasionally liked to let her kiss him. Or did she let him kiss her? Either way, that was somehow easier. Now everything was even more surreal, and he looked different, and there was that shorter hair and the fact that he apparently didn't realize that he was potentially ruining lives with his leather jacket.

She groaned and forced herself to snap out of it, turning off the shower and grabbing a towel. Once she was back in front of the mirror and had cleared out a portion of the fog to see herself, she took a determined breath and then eyed the hair dryer that was sitting innocently on top of the bathroom sink. She picked it up similarly to the way one would awkwardly pick up a baby for the first time in their lives, and she decided that if she was going to wear a dress and appear legitimately like a girl tonight, she had to to do girl things, and this was one of them. She thought.

She pushed a button, and then when nothing happened, pushed several buttons. When nothing continued to happen, she kept pushing buttons and then peered into the thing, which was when it snapped to life, sending a blast of hot air into her face. She squeaked and dropped it, then grabbed it before it could fall into the wet sink, and finally, half-growled and turned it towards her hair.

It wasn't the most likely still-quite-unstable former HYDRA killer that she was worried about wrecking the date. No, if she knew anything at all, it was that if the night ended badly, it would be because she had no idea how to do any of this, and she would make that abundantly clear.

On the bright side, she knew that he had no clue either, so at least the playing field was even.

Unless he had remembered more of his older days, and she could imagine that those days had treated him well in terms of female attention. Maybe he did know what he was doing now. Maybe she would be the only idiot there.

Gulping, she did her best to dry her hair, hoping the date would be worth the epic meltdown that she was in the midst of.

* * *

"So... do you remember... dating?"

Bucky looked across the small table to Steve, who had suffered a mild heart attack upon finding out that Bucky had asked Summer out on a date within the first five minutes of seeing her again. To his credit, though, Steve wasn't trying to talk him out of it.

"Not really." Then he thought for a moment, and added, "I do remember dancing. A little bit."

"Then you do remember dating," Steve grinned. "Dancing's changed since then, though. A lot." His grin faded a bit and he furrowed his brows. "It's less like dancing and more like..."

"More like what?"

Steve raised his brows and asked, "Is dancing all you remember? Because I sure had to hear a lot about what you did after you took girls dancing and it kind of got old after awhile."

Bucky's confused expression deepened. He could only vaguely grasp Steve's meaning. "What's that have to with dancing?"

Steve paused for a minute, then smiled. "You know what, never mind. Don't worry about it. Why don't we focus on figuring out where you're gonna take her instead."

Bucky nodded, then watched Steve pull out his phone and start typing into it. "There's one place I've been to," Steve said, "and I think you'd both like it. There's never that many people there, and since this is a Monday, it'll probably be basically empty, so you'll have the place to yourselves. And it's just a couple blocks away."

Steve held up his phone, and Bucky read the name and address of the place in question, then nodded. "Okay."

"And after that," Steve shrugged, "I would just ask her what she likes to do and go from there."

Bucky nodded again, a little but still in shock that this was happening - and that he had made it happen. He didn't know what was more bewildering, the fact that he had asked or the fact that she had said yes.

"And by the way," Steve said, "I cannot believe that I am sitting here giving you dating advice. I'm pretty sure pigs are flying over the building right now."

"Pigs?"

Steve shook his head. "Never mind."

Bucky furrowed his brows and said, "I only remember a couple of girls. Barely."

"Well, there was more than a couple," Steve replied. "Only one though that you ever really liked. The rest you just took out, but there was a girl in the eleventh grade. Her name was Judy."

Judy. He couldn't remember a Judy. Or could he?

"Dark hair, kind of short. Well, taller than I was, but still. You offered to help her with her French class."

"I speak French?" He'd already discovered that he apparently spoke five languages, with no memories of having learned them. This was the sixth. It was unnerving, especially when he'd start writing or speaking in them without fully meaning to.

"Yep. Got her an A. But her dad broke you guys up, because you told him you were going to enlist once you turned 18 and he didn't want his daughter with a soldier who'd leave her."

Something prickled at his mind, and what Steve was saying felt more and more familiar as he spoke. It was hazy, but he could remember a face now, a pretty one, and maybe a soft laugh too? And the color purple... a very light, pastel purple, and a flowery dress, and maybe a bed? The bed was the source of the purple, he realized as he thought more deeply, and the flowery dress on the floor next to it, because he'd put it there.

Oh. "I remember now."

Steve nodded. "I'm sure you do. You spent a lot of time 'teaching her French'," he said, using air quotes.

"And I told you about it?"

"Bucky, you made sure I knew more than I ever wanted to," Steve sighed. "I embarrassed pretty easily back then. And sometimes I wondered if you were making some of it up, because some of it was really..."

"Really what?" a distinctive, low feminine voice inquired, as both men looked up to find a head full of vibrant red hair appear around the corner of the kitchen they were currently seated in. "No, really, go on - I want to hear the end of this story."

Bucky rolled his eyes and sat back in his seat, crossing his arms as Steve gave Natasha a smile that was still mildly shy two months after Bucky watched her sashay back into Steve's life. She came and went as she pleased, and though Steve was hesitant to call her his "girlfriend", even Bucky knew that was crap. And that was saying something.

Since there was only two chairs, she turned Steve's lap into her seat and then looked at Bucky expectantly. "So. Let's hear about these escapades that were so scandalous that poor little Steve thought they couldn't possibly be true."

She also grated on Bucky's nerves more than anything else within the apartment. Possibly the city.

"Uh... well, we got on the subject because Bucky has a date tonight," Steve said cheerfully, and Bucky watched the playfulness fall from the woman's face as turned her gaze to Steve's.

"A date? With a woman?"

"_No, a moose,_" Bucky irritably answered in Russian.

She shot him a glare and answered back in her native tongue, "_Unlucky moose_." Then she looked back to Steve, and he gave her a look that told her to let it go. Bucky rolled his eyes and stood up from the table, heading for his room.

Where Steve had an implicit, possibly to the point of being stupid, trust in him, Natasha had an inherent distrust of him that he knew he deserved but still didn't care to see. The worst part of it was the fact that he couldn't write her off as simply a foolish woman who didn't understand anything about him, because she understood everything about him perfectly, had the experience and the background to prove just how well she did, and she was right not to trust him. It didn't help that she bore two bizarrely symmetrical scars on her body that told the stories of his past sins.

He walked to his bedroom door, then opened it and closed it while remaining in the hallway. Then he leaned against the wall and listened to Steve and Natasha's resulting hushed conversation.

"This is a bad idea, Steve. It's one thing to have him in here or out when he's with you, but -"

"Relax. He's fine. She's good for him. And they aren't going far. He'll be fine."

"And if he isn't? It's New York, Steve. What if someone tries to mug them? What do you think he'll do if he sees or hears something that triggers him? The consequences aren't worth it."

"I've thought of all that, trust me. But... I hate keeping him here all the time. He has no sense of independence, no self-reliance, and I hate that. I hate that, because it's what they did to him. They controlled him and kept him 'stable'. I don't want him to just be stable. I want him to live his life. He deserves to live his life. I owe him that much."

"That sounds great, Steve, but you have to be realistic. At the very least, you need to watch him."

"I can't. I'm watching her son."

He heard a pause. "You're babysitting his date's kid?"

"Yeah. He's a good kid. Big fan, too."

"Wait. Is this the same woman you picked him up from in Virginia?"

"Yep."

"Why is she here?"

"I flew her here."

"Steve..."

"_Natasha_."

"I highly doubt that Dr. Connor would consider him ready to start dating. He's barely ready to go walk down the street and buy a soda by himself."

"I think that's a little bit of an exaggeration."

"And I think you have a problem facing the truth about your friend and what he's capable of."

"I think I know better than anyone what he's capable of, Natasha." Bucky could hear the irritation in Steve's voice.

"Do you?"

"Yes."

Then there was silence for a moment, and eventually he heard the woman sigh. "Well, if you can't watch him, I will. Just this once, though. I have better things to do than babysit grown men."

Bucky clenched his jaw and thought for one fleeting moment about aborting the whole thing. He didn't need Natasha of all people to come and spy on him while he was on a date, and Summer deserved better than that. And now he wasn't sure that he would be able to focus on anything but determining Natasha's position and fuming over her presence throughout the night.

But then, a defiant spark from within told him hell no, go on the date and don't let her have the satisfaction of getting to him. He didn't want Steve defending him any more than he wanted to hear Natasha's suspicious whispers. He was sick of both, and for once, he would like to just have one little tiny bit of confidence in himself that he could walk three blocks with another human being who wasn't Steve and not be provoked into the murderous rampage that Natasha seemed to think was imminent.

He heard movement, but he stayed where he was at. Then he glanced up and saw Steve appear at the end of the hallway, stopping short when he saw Bucky leaning against the wall. Instantly his face became apologetic, realizing that he had heard the conversation. "Bucky -"

"It's fine," Bucky shrugged, walking back to his door and throwing it open before closing himself inside. After all, Steve hadn't done anything wrong. He never did. It was almost annoying sometimes.

He looked around his room blankly for a moment. It was minimally furnished, which was his choice. Just a bed, a small table next to it, and a dresser across the room. Steve had provided a wall mounted flat screen TV that he watched only on occasion. On the left side of his bed, filling the gap between it and the wall, were stacks of books. He'd taken Summer's suggestion and tended to read as much fiction as nonfiction now. Reading helped him think and not think at the same time, in that it kept his thoughts focused on the words on a page and not the voices and images that haunted his mind tirelessly. Staying busy was key. It was just hard to stay busy when he rarely left Steve's apartment.

But, he had better things to think about today. Changing clothes seemed like a good idea, so he did that, only partially though, because he ended up only swapping his shirt for a black button down one, unsure of what else to do. He was unsure about a lot of things, but it was slowly getting better. When he had first let Steve badger him into getting his hair cut, he'd felt even more like an imposter whenever he looked in the mirror. Having only the crudest sense of identity to begin with, suddenly looking identical to the man Steve kept telling him that he was had taken weeks to get used to. But over time, certain things were starting to feel almost right.

This date thing, though - he still didn't understand why he'd done it. It was such an odd concept, and he had no level of comfort for it, regardless of the slowly returning memories.

If he had to guess, though, he'd blame the moment on the lock of hair she had left in his possession and the memories - those few blessed good ones that he had - of her that refused to budge from his mind. He had thought that he would forget her - despite his assurances to the contrary when she'd asked him not to - but he never came close. And he missed her.

But now he had her for a week. He might as well make the most of it.

* * *

By the time Summer was back at Steve's doorstep, she was already exhausted. The effort of dressing, fully fixing her hair, and doing a decent job with makeup (which wasn't as easy as some girls made it look) was more than she'd bargained for, but she was somewhat all right with the outcome. Her hair was down and lightly curled, makeup light for her own comfort, and she had paired a deep burgundy peacoat with her green dress, finishing the outfit with the boots that her feet absolutely hated her for. She even had jewelry on, a silver bracelet and some small diamond earrings that had been a gift years ago. It was the most womanly she had looked since... ever? So it couldn't be too bad.

She knocked on the door, holding David's hand, and when a very familiar redheaded woman opened the door, her mouth opened and she instantly felt like a twelve year old kid under the woman's appraising gaze.

Summer recognized her from the Congressional hearings on the news following all the SHIELD leaks. David immediately leapt behind her, and she didn't blame him for hiding from the Black freakin' Widow.

"And who are you?"

Trying to gather her wits, Summer eventually managed one word, "Summer." It seemed redundant to say anything else, because she wasn't stupid, and she knew that this woman would already know who she was. The only point of her question was to intimidate her. But why?

"Right. So is Barnes the first assassin you've dated or does HYDRA run a dating website I'm not aware of?"

"Uh..."

Natasha rolled her eyes and opened the door fully. "Come in. Steve's helping him fix his hair or something."

Blinking, Summer tried to step inside, but David refused to follow her in. She turned and furrowed her brows. "Sweetie, come on. We talked about this. What's wrong?"

David looked at her, then Natasha, and then covered his eyes with his hands. Summer stifled a laugh, then glanced at Natasha, who looked both bored and confused. "He's scared of you, I think."

Natasha raised an eyebrow and then turned to saunter off. "Smart kid."

It took some convincing, but Summer eventually got David to come inside, even with the scary woman still inside of it. She took him to the leather couch in the living room, and when she sat down, he went back to hiding behind her, smashing his face between the couch and her back. She sighed, hoping Natasha wouldn't be staying, because apparently that would make Steve's job nearly impossible to do tonight.

She tried not to be mildly frightened herself when Natasha walked over from the kitchen, eyeing her curiously. She couldn't help it - the woman was as mesmerizing as she was terrifying.

"How old are you?" Natasha asked, perching causally on the arm of a chair opposite the couch.

"Twenty five," Summer replied, feeling David try to burrow even deeper between her and the couch.

"You must not have parents."

"Nope," Summer confirmed, a little confused by why that mattered. Then she could feel Natasha analyzing her appearance, and she wanted to crawl and hide in a ditch.

"Were you gonna wear your hair like that?"

"Um..." she faltered, definitely feeling like a kid now if she didn't before. But she had worked too long on her hair to have it criticized, even by someone flawless. "Yeah. He likes it down, so." She cringed a little bit. She didn't owe her that explanation.

"Rookie mistake. That's why you put it up. Give him something to take down later."

Well, dang it. Now slightly embarrassed and frustrated, she glanced at the oversized "mom" purse in her hands, knowing she had nothing besides a few hair ties in there. Then she heard Natasha snicker and reach into her jean pocket.

"Here," she said, tossing her a thin, long clip. Summer caught it, then thanked her quietly before gathering her hair and twisting it up the back of her head. She fastened the clip, leaving a few front pieces loose to frame her face, hoping that the ones in the back were curled well enough to look okay. Natasha gave a nod of approval, but Summer found the whole exchange rather odd.

Before things could get anymore awkward, she heard footsteps, and in the hallway, Steve appeared, wearing his usual smile. "Hi. Sorry about that, we were talking and I didn't realize what time it was."

Before Summer could reply, Natasha leaned back and smiled. "I kept her company, don't worry."

Steve gave her a look that was suspicious and amused at the same time. "Great. So, Summer, if you want to give me some guidelines..."

"Right," she said, getting up and digging into her purse as David hung on to her coat from behind and dared to peek once at Natasha. She smiled at him somewhat neutrally, and he quickly hid his face. She chuckled.

"So," Summer began, taking a small bag out of her purse and putting it on Steve's table,as he watched, "this is his tablet. He's addicted to it, and it helps him focus and calm down if something freaks him out. The charger's in there too. I also packed some snacks he likes. He's allergic to peanuts and bananas, and there's an epi-pen in here in case he accidentally gets his hands on either one of those. Oh, and here is..."

As she went on, making obsessively sure that she covered every possible base while Steve listened intently, Bucky emerged from the hallway, his view of his date blocked by Steve's large frame. He glanced at Natasha, who was still perched on the armchair. She gave him a smile and spoke in Russian, "_Have fun_."

"_Stop speaking_," he muttered back, and the sound made Summer fall silent for a moment mid sentence and glance over Steve's shoulder. That was when their eyes met, and Summer was pretty sure that if her heart was going to stop every time he walked into the room or said a word, she was really in for it.

"Um... so anyway," she said, smiling a little and shaking her head, "I think I have everything here for you, and -"

"Hey," Steve smiled reassuringly, "take a breath. I've got this. And if anything happens, I'll call you right away."

She sighed and nodded. "Okay. Thank you. Thank you for everything. I owe you way too much."

He shrugged and shook his head. "Don't worry about it. Have a good night."

She smiled, suddenly nervous all over again, especially now that Bucky was standing next to Steve and she could feel his eyes on her. She almost forgot about the little boy who still refused to budge from behind her legs.

"Catch you later, Steve," Natasha called from the door. "And nice meeting you, Summer."

Summer nodded, though she doubted the truth of that statement. She also noticed the loathing in Bucky's eyes as he watched the woman leave. Once the door was shut behind her, David finally let go of her coat and looked around, apparently now feeling safe again.

"I've never seen him so instantly terrified of someone before," she said, and Steve smiled.

"It's... understandable," he admitted. "All right, well, I'm ready if the two of you are."

With that, Summer nodded and knelt down to hug and kiss her son goodbye, remind him to be good and do everything Steve said even though she had no doubt that he would, and then before she knew it, David was back to bouncing happily and rushing to Steve's side. That left her and Bucky standing in front of the table, and her stomach fluttered as their eyes met again. He looked every bit as good as he had earlier, only darker, and maybe a little bit angry. She was all right with that, but the jacket still deserved a ritual burning.

She smiled and asked softly, "Ready?"

* * *

The fact that the sight of her made him almost entirely forget how angry he was at having Natasha for an invisible babysitter for the night was astonishing. And he knew that whatever was underneath the dark red coat would probably be even better, but the boots were as appealing as they were earlier. He had to drag his eyes away and meet her eyes when she asked her one-word question.

"Yeah," he answered quietly. Something in his head screamed to compliment her, to say something quickly, but he didn't do it. He could all but feel Steve pretending not to watch them, probably smiling stupidly, and he wanted nothing more than to be alone with her. So, he took her left hand in his right one, and walked her to the door.

When she glanced back to tell her son goodbye one more time, Bucky caught the stupid grin on Steve's faced that he'd suspected was there, and he shook his head at him as they walked out the door.

His hand left hers once they were in the building's hallway and the apartment door was closed behind them. He looked at her as she then nervously fiddled with a piece of her hair before seeming to make herself stop, and he decided that he quite liked the fact that she couldn't do a thing to hide her anxiety.

He also felt like now he could pay her the compliment he'd wanted to a moment ago. It still didn't go as planned.

"You... you look..."

She leaned forward slightly, as if he was speaking too quietly for her to hear, and then she let out a surprised yelp as she suddenly stumbled off of her feet. He caught her, with one hand on her shoulder while his other arm caught her around the waist, and her hands clutched at his jacket as she righted herself and laughed.

"Sorry," she said breathlessly, a blush coloring her cheeks as he reluctantly let her go. "It's the shoes. They're like four inches high and I've almost killed myself in them about five times today."

He glanced down at the boots in question, then back up at her face, and his hand slipped into hers again. The metal one, looking to all the world like any other flesh and blood hand, hung at his side as he got them walking again. "I guess you should hang on to me, then."

He guided her down the staircase, down two flights to the floor, and once they were back on flat ground, she asked quietly, "So, do you like it here?"

They stepped out into the chilly night air, and he took a deep breath without realizing. This was the first time he'd been out at night in a long time. "Yeah," he replied as they turned down the sidewalk. He considered keeping his next thought to himself, but spoke it aloud anyway. "I do miss your food."

She laughed. "Really? I mean, I like my food, but I don't get a lot of feedback, so I can never tell if it's actually good or if I'm just used to it."

"No, it's good," he replied.

"Well... that's nice to hear," she said, her hand ending up on his upper arm as they walked. "If you wanted, I could cook for you and Steve sometime this week. Or try to. Knowing my luck it would be the one time I'd screw up and burn something."

He almost told her that she worried too much, but then he caught a glimpse of a woman walking down the other side of the street, and he wondered if it was Natasha in whatever disguise she'd opted for.

"David misses you," Summer said, diverting his attention. "He still draws you all the time. And still makes me create fake metal arms for him every once in awhile. I don't think he recognizes you with the short hair. And your hand like that."

He looked down at his left hand. The cover was the one thing Natasha had been good for so far. "It's one less reminder. Until I take it off, at least."

"I understand," she replied, falling silent for a moment. "It's so weird how it looks completely normal."

"Until you touch it," he said, holding out his left hand to her. She looked up at him before reaching out with her free hand and gently touching the back of his hand. The hologram flickered, then stabilized, pixelated, and returned back to its set image.

"Wow," she marveled. "Can you make it show anything?"

He nodded, returning the hand to his side. The cover only reached to his wrist, barely, so long sleeves were a necessity.

"That's almost creepy. What about faces?" When he nodded, she went on, "Wow, so someone could put that on and wear my face? Not that anyone would want to wear my face. But could they?"

"Yeah," he replied, amused by her reaction to what he thought was a rather routine thing. "But they would have to get one first."

"Right. I guess those are rare?"

"That's what she told me."

"You mean... her, right?"

"Natasha," he nodded. "She's watching us."

"What?"

He cringed a little, but she deserved to know. Summer came to a halt on the sidewalk, when they were just a few doors down from their destination, and he turned towards her with a slight grimace. "She's watching _me_," he amended, somewhat bitterly. "I don't know where she is yet, but she'll be watching all night to make sure I don't snap and kill someone."

She frowned, then thought for a moment. "Did Steve -"

He shook his head. "No, it's not him. It's her." He then looked around, noting all the pedestrians and cabs within his sight, barely having to concentrate at all to fall into the familiar task of scoping out a perimeter, but then he reminded himself that he didn't need to do that tonight. "But she's right to do it."

She watched him for a moment, then linked their arms once more as she replied, "For what it's worth, you seem a lot better to me."

He almost refuted her, almost pointed out that her point of reference would make almost anything seem better, but he kept his mouth shut and then furrowed his brows when they reached the door of the place that Steve had recommended.

"What's this place?" she asked. He had no idea. From the outside, the place looked almost abandoned, what with the sloppy artwork scrawled on the door and rest of the building, and the odd lack of windows. He reached out and opened the door anyway, then made a mental note to roll his eyes at Steve later.

Inside, the odd place revealed itself to be a rather quirky and romantic restaurant, with soft and slightly dim lighting thanks to strings of overhead lights that stretched from one end to another and candlelights on the empty tables. Italian music wafted out from within and he glanced at Summer to find a smile on her face as she looked in, and for that reason, he'd endure the place.

A squat little Italian-speaking man came and greeted them jovially, and when Bucky answered the man in the same tongue as they were hustled to a table, he glanced at Summer out of the corner of his eye and saw her doing a very poor job of hiding her flustered smile.

They were the only patrons in the entire dining room, and their host and server appeared to also be the cook. He left to fetch them menus, and it took Bucky a moment of watching Summer start unbuttoning her coat to suddenly remember that he should help her out of it. He stepped up behind her and hesitated briefly before gently placing his hands at her shoulders as she began to take the thing off. He started to pull it from her, and she looked over her shoulder in surprise, only to blush and smile before letting him take it from her. "Thank you."

He was going to reply, but then he saw her dress, and he decided to look rather than speak. He'd never seen her in any dress before, and this one illuminated the shape and form that the causal attire he remembered hid far too well. It was sleeveless and gathered at the left side of her waist, fitting everywhere perfectly and ending just at her knees, where it gave way to black tights and those cursed boots. The coat had also been hiding silver bracelets on her left wrist, and when it suddenly dawned on him that a girl who lived in t-shirts and jeans did all of his for a night with him, his mouth went dry and the air suddenly felt scarce.

She turned and looked at him with slight concern. "You all right?"

He stood there, her coat over his arm, brows furrowed as one voice told him to tell her that she should dress like this all the time, and then there was another slightly less respectful voice with an even better suggestion, but before he could even register the words and accompanying image in his head, the little Italian man reappeared and went about arranging their chairs next to one another, muttering something about being romantic. Bucky didn't think twice about it, not noticing Summer's not-so-inner brief turmoil before taking her seat, which was only inches away from his, in front of a candlelit table. At the moment, he was more concerned with keeping his filter intact and not horrifying her with verbalizing his thoughts that were seemingly coming out of nowhere.

"Uh," she said quietly as he started half-reading the menu in an attempt to distract himself, "you know I can't read this."

He glanced at her, then the menu, and then he blinked and realized that none of it was in English. "Oh. Sorry. I didn't really notice. Well, Steve said to get the pizza, I think this one here," he said, pointing to a picture, "but if you want I can read the rest to you."

"No, that looks fine," she shrugged. "I'll take his word for it." He nodded, and then she was silent for a moment until she made an observation. "So you speak Italian too."

He nodded. "I'm up to six languages that I know of."

"And you don't remember learning any of them?" He shook his head, and she wondered, "How is that even possible?"

He shook his head slightly, then continued to stare at the menu without seeing it as he answered. "Natasha thinks it's like a computer. You can wipe the hard drive and erase all the data but it still keeps its basic functions."

He glanced at her, afraid of seeing her face become sad or sympathetic at this, but to his relief, she merely considered those words and raised an eyebrow. "Well that's one way of looking at it. Kind of dark, though. And here all I know is bad American English and how to say 'my name is Dora' in Spanish."

Her reference went over his head, but he didn't pay it much mind. "I found out I also speak French today."

She was taking a drink of water when he said this, and he heard her choke slightly before coughing and putting her glass down. "Don't speak French," she said, hiding a smile,

Unconsciously, he angled more towards her and looked at her curiously. "Why?"

"Just don't. I mean it."

She was smiling too much to really mean what she was saying, and he thought that was interesting. There was even the start of a blush on her cheeks. "Why?" he asked again.

"Just... because," she said, still smiling and avoiding looking at him. "Forget I said anything."

He could only conclude that she actually wanted to hear him speak the language, because nothing else could possibly make sense.

He didn't take his eyes off of her as she pretended to be interested in her water glass, the silly smile lingering on her face the longer he watched her try to fight it off. He was slipping back into his old staring habits, despite the fact that he had made a lot of progress in that area since living with Steve. Probably because he didn't have anything worth staring at until now.

Suddenly, he remembered that he still had yet to complement her. But just as he opened his mouth, the Italian man reappeared to take their orders at the very same moment. By the time he left, Bucky realized he still had no idea how to accurately convey how positively perfect she looked to him without sounding like an idiot. And it wasn't helping that growing parts of his mind kept throwing things out at him that he was fairly sure he could not repeat out loud, regardless of what decade he was living in.

And anyway, it was not the most opportune time to have that sort of awakening, as refreshingly human as it was.

"You look like you're doing some intense thinking," she noted. When he turned his gaze to hers, he found her smiling lightly. He merely gave a slight shake of his head, leaning back in his seat a few inches and getting a better view of her seated figure. He didn't know why his eyes kept flying to her legs like magnets were pulling them there.

"And I see you're still as subtle as an elephant," she chided gently, smiling from the corner of her eye. "I'm actually glad for that. Gives me less stuff to overthink."

He eyed her for a moment, thinking that if she already thought he lacked all subtlety, then he could get away with what he was about to do with no fear of repercussion. Besides, she wouldn't understand the words anyway.

Throwing caution to the wind, he slowly leaned forward towards her, watching her stiffen slightly as he did, stopping just before his lips could touch her ear. Then he spoke in a low, hopefully seductive tone, "_Tu es magnifique, ce soir, mais j'aimerais autant te voir porter ces chaussures et rien d'autr_e."

* * *

He may as well have gleefully dumped a bucket full of hot, burning coals down her dress, and she was absolutely positive now that she officially hated him.

Having no idea what in the world he had just said to her and unsure if it even mattered, she closed her eyes for a moment and then blinked, the term "flutter" not doing justice to what was happening inside as she slowly looked up at him after he drew away. He was wearing the same almost-smile that she had seen on him earlier, and he looked way too satisfied with himself.

"I told you not to - to... what did you say?"

He shook his head and met her gaze, and she saw a playful glint there. Playful. What was she supposed to do with that? She was used to seeing pain and misery and ghosts in those eyes, not playfulness. It did not compute. Much like the seductive French in her ear had roughly the same effect on her brain that an atom bomb had over an unsuspecting city.

"What did you say?"

"I'm not telling you,"

"Then why did you say it?"

"Because I wanted to."

She almost groaned in frustration. "Just tell me! Please?"

He glanced at her, then gestured to the purse at her feet. "I'm sure you can use your phone to translate. Steve does."

"Yeah, if I had a clue how to write what you said," she replied. "Are you really not going to tell me?"

He shook his head, and she wanted to rip her hair out. But before she could consider such a display, their dinner arrived, and she realized that she was probably going to be languishing in ignorance for a very long time. And frustration. A lot of that. Maybe more of that than anything.

How utterly diabolical. She couldn't dismiss his actions as being innocent or oblivious anymore after that - _no_, there was no questioning that he knew exactly what he was doing now, and that changed everything.

The food was good, even better because she was absolutely starving after possibly forgetting to eat anything else that day, but the longer that there was silence between them, the more time she had to overthink. Were other girls like this when they went on dates, or was it only her and was it Steve's fault for telling Bucky to take her to a place like this? The occasionally flickering candlelight on the table and dreamy overhead lights only served to make his hair look almost black and his eyes like the calm before a storm, and it was so not helping anything.

She didn't realize that she was staring, because she was vaguely contemplating using his image as inspiration for a character in a story - if she ever managed to actually write one, of course. If she ever wrote such a thing, she would make his character a cocky jerk who liked to torture women by speaking mysterious things to them in languages they didn't understand. He'd be dangerous and unpredictable, but in the end, he would end up on the right side of it all. Mostly. Maybe he'd blow up a few buildings along the way, so she could write an entire paragraph describing the way in which he would confidently swagger away from the explosions. Then, just when her imaginary readers would be on the cusp of utterly hating him, she would let a glimpse of his vulnerability and haunted eyes win them all back, and then she would delete it all and start over because she would hate every word she typed. In other words, the usual process.

She snapped out of it when the little Italian man came to ask them more questions that she didn't understand. She tried to smile and express her liking of the food that way, and then she watched with amusement as the man began asking Bucky questions and talking very animatedly with him. The man gestured to her a few times, and Bucky seemed to be getting a bit flustered or frustrated, one of the two, and finally the man merely gave a hearty laugh and left their bill on the table.

"What was all that?" she asked, and Bucky shrugged.

"He was curious. Asked a lot of questions."

"Like what?"

He shrugged and fished for a wallet that he produced a moment later, and she was pretty sure that whatever was in there belonged to Steve. She had no idea how much money the man had and she really despised how much he was continuing to spend for her benefit, but since he acted like it was all inconsequential, maybe it was. She still didn't like it.

"How long we've been dating," he replied without looking her way. "Things like that."

"Oh. Well, I think that if I'm gonna have any hope of keeping up with you, you're going to have to teach me some of your languages."

"I think I like it better like this."

She tried not to roll her eyes at him. Of course he did. But she already felt like she was at a distinct disadvantage here, and the language barriers weren't helping. On top of that, her anxiety over leaving David with someone else for the first time in years was starting to get to her, and she didn't even notice how often she kept checking her phone to make sure there were no messages from Steve.

They left before the Italian man could come back and ramble some more, and she failed miserably at trying not to smile when Bucky helped her back into her coat. It was similar to the way that he opened doors for her and had already managed to treat her better than she had ever been before, and though that wasn't a difficult standard to beat, it was still incredibly nice.

Once they were back outside, the ache in her feet began protesting being forced to walk again, but she held his arm for support again as they paused outside of the restaurant.

"So, what now?" she asked with a smile.

He gave a light shrug and replied honestly, "I have no idea."

She laughed at his answer, then looked around the streets. There was only a moderate amount of folks out, but they were not the only couple. Most were headed away from the direction in which they came, so she turned back to him and said, "Let's just walk and see what we find."

He gave her a look and she simply smiled, pulling him with her as she started to walk. After a moment or two, she asked quietly, "So, is she watching us right now?"

"She's the blonde walking her dog," Bucky replied. "Don't look. Don't give her the satisfaction."

She did as he said, wondering where the dog came from and if the surveillance really was necessary. Bucky seemed good, a lot better than she thought three months could do, but she also knew it wasn't as simple as that.

"So... her and Steve?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"You don't sound like you like her much," she observed. He didn't reply, and she decided it best to change the subject, not wanting to discuss terrifying spies that he seemed to loathe.

Before she could think of a better topic of discussion, the sound of what had to be a gunshot crackled through the air, and before she could register the sound, she was tossed against a wall and pinned there by her date's left arm.

His sudden throwing of her startled her far more than the gunshot, and as her heart pounded in her ears, she looked around him and saw a group of teenagers laughing and cursing as they ran off down the street, yelling "boom!" and trying to get away as fast as they could.

"It was just some stupid kids, Bucky, we're all right," she said, hiding the shake in her voice well. When he didn't answer, she tried to pry his arm away to no avail, then settled on reaching her hand to his face and pulling him towards her.

It took a few tries and she said his name many more times, but eventually he finally looked at her. She looked him in his suddenly confused, distant eyes as she held his face and said calmly, "Bucky, it was kids. Nothing happened. Nothing happened."

It took him a bit, and she had to repeat her assurances a few more times, but eventfully, he nodded, and she breathed as he finally dropped his arm off of her. She watched him blink once-more present eyes and look around, and unmistakeable disappointment flashed across his face. As he started staring across the street, she took his hand in hers and tugged him back to her. "Hey. It's all right. Really."

"Did I hurt you?" he asked quietly, and she quickly shook her head.

"No. Thank you for doing what you did. If it had actually been something bad, I would have been safe, so... thank you."

He looked unconvinced, and he gently eased his hand out of hers. "I'll... take you back if you want."

"What? No," she protested a little too quickly, too eagerly, making him furrow his brows and her cringe a little bit. "No, I don't want to go back yet. I mean, unless you want to. I can only imagine what went through your head when you heard that, so..."

After she trailed off, they stood there in indecision, and she knew that for as different and more... human that he seemed to be now, every day still had to be a struggle for him. Looking in his eyes now was like looking into them back at home, in Virginia, when he would stare off and she would try to bring him back to reality before he spent the whole day like that.

"Do you want to go back?" she asked softly, and he took his gaze off of the street and looked across it, to the woman with her dog, who was pretending to browse on her phone as she sat on a bench.

She watched his jaw tighten and his eyes clear up some, and he turned back to her and shook his head. "No."

Then he took her hand again, and she gave him an encouraging smile as they began walking again. She could deal with moments like those, expected them even. She might not be able to comprehend his level of trauma and haunting, painful memories, or really know much about them at all aside from what she had read because he had never shared much with her, but she knew what flashbacks could do to a mind. She just had no idea what sort his last one had been, and she wasn't going to ask, either. She'd rather take his mind away from it.

But what to talk about? She started wracking her brain to come up with something to distract him with, but as usual, all she got was a giant blank. Her brain had a habit of being good for nothing when she actually needed it.

Then they walked past a slightly shady-looking building, and the door opened and two drunken girls in too-small, too-short dresses spilled out of it, giggling to themselves as they started half-stumbling down the sidewalk. Out of curiosity, Summer glanced inside the still-open door, and Bucky did too, and after the door slammed shut, they stood there for a moment, staring at it.

"So that's what Steve meant when he said dancing is different now."

Summer glanced at him and then said, "I'm not sure that everybody dances like that." She paused. "I hope."

Shaking off the image of glitter-covered bodies writhing to bad dubstep, they kept walking, and Summer asked, "Was dancing as big in the 40s as the movies say it was?"

"I think so," he replied. "I remember it."

"Were you good?" she asked with a smile.

"I don't remember any complaints," he answered, making her smile grow.

She could picture him all those years ago, in an Army uniform and free of the ghosts of his future, smiling freely and dancing giggling girls around some smoky room full of other couples. It would have been nice to know him back then, before all the light turned to dark.

"What about you?"

She looked up, having not expected his question, and she stifled a laugh. "Uh, no. No, I don't dance. Like ever."

"Don't like it?"

"Honestly, I've never had the chance to do it, aside from a couple dances in high school," she shrugged. "And those weren't all that fun."

"Well, if I ever remember enough of it," he said, "maybe I could teach you."

"So you'll teach me how to dance," she smiled, "but you won't translate your French for me."

"Nope."

"I'm not gonna stop bugging you about that," she said, just as they approached a set of open doors with music pouring out softly into the streets. It was real, live music, not the purely electric sounds they'd heard earlier, and Summer stopped for a moment to peer inside the place.

It was a small club with a jazzy retro feel, free for the night according to the sign outside, and host to a small band of older folks playing and a moderate number of patrons, who came from all ages and backgrounds, mostly couples. The air was smoky and a little dark, similar to her movie-like image from a moment ago, and she turned to Bucky and raised her eyebrows in question. "Wanna try jogging those dancing memories?"

"Uh..."

She gave his hand a light pull and smiled. "You can't possibly look worse than me."

"I really don't remember how..."

She shrugged. "Maybe it's like riding a bike, you know? And think about how easy it was to remember how to kiss. Dancing could be the same way."

She made herself blush saying that, and she was pretty sure that was pathetic. But, she must have been convincing, because Bucky finally caved, with just a hint of a grin on his lips. "All right, fine."

She smiled as they walked inside, and then she quickly found a corner for them to stand in for the moment. The song being played was a bit slow, heavy on horns and rich to her ears, and the couples were all in their own separate little worlds as they danced around. She didn't think it was really the kind of music that Bucky would have been familiar with, but it was probably the closest thing she could manage tonight. What was the worst that could happen?

Bucky stood to her side and slightly behind her as she watched, considering whether or not to take the initiative and drag him out and dance very badly with him and at least try to make him laugh. In the midst of debating this, she felt a slight tickle at her temple, and turned slightly to find him brushing a piece of her hair aside. She looked in his eyes and saw the same intensity that she used to see there, the single-focused potency that had forever altered her perception of what constituted "eye contact". She stopped breathing when he glanced down at her lips, then started again when he brought both of his hands to her shoulders to pull her coat off again. He draped it on the back of a chair at a nearby table, then took her hand.

"I hope your expectations are low," he said as he led them towards the other couples, and she felt a short thrill of anxiety and excitement.

The song changed, but the moderately slow tempo remained, and then they were face to face and awkwardly still for a moment. She could tell that he was trying to remember as he took one of her hands in his and then stared at his left hand, which would flicker if it touched anything too much, and she knew better than most how quickly too much thinking could ruin something. So, trying to shake him out of his own head, she slipped her hand away and put her arms around his neck instead.

His eyes snapped to hers, and being brave, she stepped closer to him, having no idea what she was doing. Her ears suddenly felt hot and her pulse was chugging right along, and the way that he stared at her was making it exponentially worse. Then she stepped to the side, turning him slightly, and then burst out laughing at herself.

"I'm sorry, I have no idea what I'm doing. I'm just trying to help," she said, trying to contain her giggles. She took to watching her feet, which were not happy considering how much they hurt, and then shivered when she felt his hands run down the tops of her arms and gently ease them down. She glanced to his left one and saw it flickering, but in the slightly dim lighting, it was hard to see. The false image didn't make the metal any less cool to the touch, but she thought it was the pleasant kind of cold.

His right hand took her left, and slowly, he spun her in a small circle. It would have looked oddly slow to anyone watching, but she smiled at him as she tried not to trip over her own feet, willing to go along with anything that would get him feeling comfortable with his own steps. It was all fine until he pulled her closer, then took her wrist and draped her arm around his neck, bringing her close enough to kiss if either of them barely leaned in.

Her lips were slightly parted as she stared at his, barely aware of how he was leading her in small steps, and completely unaware of how she was grasping at the leather jacket he'd never shed. It was impossible to think when she was this close to him, sharing the same breaths with him, daring to glance up and meet his eyes, almost instantly regretting it for how her heart nearly stopped again.

Then she let out a small shriek of surprise when he spun her again, more quickly this time and further out, and she almost tripped more times than she could count by the time he pulled her back. She laughed and put her arms around his neck again, warming at the sight of his small smile returning to his face. She ached to see a full, real smile from him.

"Is it all coming back to you?" she asked quietly, taking a chance and letting her fingers just graze the short hairs at the back of his head. It was a small touch and far from what she'd been wanting to do to his hair all day.

"Maybe," he said, before grasping her hand and spinning her a few more times, helping her get used to it and learn how to avoid tripping herself up.

Just when she thought she was halfway used to dancing, at Ieast somewhat, he swept her off her feet, literally, by surprising her with a low dip. She laughed again, maybe even giggled - giggled? - and almost couldn't resist the urge to kiss him after he pulled her back upright. She came close, staring down at his lips and not even trying to wipe the grin off of her face, feeling oddly gutsy for one short moment, but just as she came close to taking the plunge, he spun her out again, this time with far different results.

She was fine on the way out, but on the way in, she misjudged a step and her left ankle twisted slightly, making her gasp at the fleeting pain and then lose her footing entirely. She attributed what happened next to her impressive ability to take something embarrassing and make it much worse than it needed it to be, but all things considered, falling in such a way that Bucky's attempt to catch her sent them both hurtling to the ground with her on top of him really wasn't so bad.

He landed half-sitting, and she was sprawled over him, face against his chest, and though she was laughing, she lifted up the left side of his jacket and hid her face with it. She knew the other folks were laughing at her, not in a mean spirited way, but still, it was her natural reaction to hide. But, with her ear pressed to Bucky's chest through his black shirt, she heard a rhythmic rumbling that she first thought she was imagining. But then she felt it too, and when she stopped hiding and raised her head to look at him, what she saw was shocking.

He was not only smiling in the way she had only dreamed about previously, but he was laughing. Genuinely laughing, and the sound pierced through the music and the noise effortlessly, and all at once, she simply felt too much. The smile was every bit as perfect as she knew it would be, and the laugh was as welcome as it was unexpected.

And then, once again, she burst out laughing at herself, at it all, and the moment couldn't have been better.

He helped her get up soon thereafter, and their exit was not far behind. She couldn't keep the smile off her face, at least until they made their way back outside and her feet told her that they were absolutely done. It burned to walk, and she made a mental vow to never wear the boots again regardless of how good they looked.

She tried not to let it show, but her slower steps caught Bucky's attention within moments. "Did you get hurt when you fell?"

She shook her head. "No, not at all. It's the boots. My feet are killing me. But I'll be all right. Just ignore me."

She put on a brave face and kept walking, but he stopped her and looked at her as if he was not impressed in the least. Then he glanced down at her feet, then her face, and then started to kneel down. Her eyes widened. "What - what are you - no, no, put me down!"

Scooping her up like she weighed little more than a leaf blowing in the wind, he set off down the sidewalk with one word to the protesting woman in his arms. "Hush."

She groaned, half loving it and half dying, pressing her face into his jacket and muttering, "I can walk, really, you don't have to carry me down the street... Bucky..."

But regardless of how she whined or pled, he pretended not hear her, and she realized how slowly he'd been walking all night for her sake. She also popped up her head and realized that he was not walking in the direction she'd expected. "Where are you going?"

"Back to your hotel."

"But - David -"

"Steve can bring him over," Bucky said dismissively, and Summer instantly quieted down, because she was trying to remember the state that she left the room in when she left, and she needed to figure out if she was going to be humiliated by him seeing it.

Her purse was dangling oddly from her elbow, and she started trying to maneuver it open to dig her phone out of it, but then she thought about it, and maybe it would be better to wait to tell Steve about the change of plans. It would be a very short trip from his apartment to her hotel, and the longer she waited, the more time alone she would have with Bucky. But, worry quickly overtook the thought, and she resumed her search for the phone and ended up texting Steve anyway.

Afterwards, while resting her head against Bucky's shoulder, she asked quietly, "Are people staring?"

"I don't know."

Of course he didn't. She wondered if Natasha was watching them still, but she didn't ask about that. Instead, her thoughts drifted to something that she had almost forgotten about from her days with David's father.

"I broke my arm when I was eighteen," she said quietly, feeling oddly soothed by the walk. "I was with David's father back then, and I was at his house and we were goofing off in the basement. The stairs were really old and he was chasing me up them and one broke when I stepped on it, so I fell and that's when my arm broke. At first he told me I was being a baby and didn't believe me that I'd actually hurt myself. He wouldn't take me to the hospital because he said he had to get up early the next day for work and wouldn't get any sleep if he took me, and besides, I was just exaggerating. So I had to call a friend to come and pick me up from his house and take me." When Bucky looked at her with slight confusion, she explained, "I'm telling you this so you understand why I'm acting weird. I'm not used to things like this."

He frowned, but stayed silent. She didn't need him to say anything. She just wanted him to understand at least partially why she was the way that she was.

The walk to the hotel was exceedingly quick, and once there, he carried her up the stairs, ignoring the looks they got from hotel staff, and when they reached her door, he still wouldn't put her down, so she had to fumble with her purse through the abyss within it to find her keycard. Once that task was finally over and her door opened, she expected him to set her on her feet at last. He did not. He flipped the light on with his shoulder, closed the door behind him with his foot, and carried her to the bed that was not covered in every piece of clothing that she had brought with her. He set her down carefully on the side of it, then silently sat next to her, too close for her own comfort.

Their eyes met, and when she opened her mouth to thank him, he unexpectedly leaned forward and grabbed the calf of her leg that was closest to him, then pulled it into his lap. She kept her jaw from dropping by chewing on her lip while he found the zipper on the outer part of the boot, then pulled it down and lifted the torturous thing away from her at last.

He repeated the process with her other boot, and she found herself remaining at a loss for words with her feet in his lap. She noticed his hand cover flickering annoyingly with everything he did, and to her surprise, he poked at something near his wrist and then peeled the thing off before stuffing it in his jacket. She felt oddly relieved at the change, but it was short lived, because while she'd been distracted with the sight of his metal hand, his other had gone on to start rubbing one of her feet.

It took her by surprise, and between that and the sheer relief of his touch on her poor foot, a sound escaped out of her mouth that she realized, with horror, sounded a lot like a moan. She froze and then looked at him, knowing that her face was probably the color of a strawberry, given the amused look in his eye.

But it felt good. He only used his flesh and blood hand, and he didn't watch what he was doing, opting instead to look over the rest of her, all while no words were spoken.

He had yet to even kiss her, and she already felt on the verge of hyperventilating.

When his hand ran over her ankle, she met his gaze and held her breath as she watched him gently ease her feet from his lap and lean forward. Her mind went blank, then sputtered back to life when he only started undoing the belt and buttons of her coat, which she had forgotten she was still wearing. The thing was, he stared in her eyes as he did this, and she wondered if he was simply trying to make her scream from the tension before his lips so much as touched hers.

She shrugged off the coat and let it sit in a pile behind her on the bed, and then she watched his eyes drop as he appeared to start searching for words. A few seconds went by before he said quietly, "I tried to tell you earlier, but..." He paused, then met her gaze and said sincerely, "You're beautiful."

"I... I tried," she said dumbly, having difficulty speaking through the lump in her throat. He was too close and she would explode and possibly weep if he didn't kiss her before there was a knock at her door. "Is that what you said in French?"

The corner of his lips curved slightly, and he shook his head. "Not exactly."

"Will you tell me now?"

He shook his head again, and when she opened her mouth to protest, that was when he finally kissed her.

Lightning struck her chest and her hands took refuge in his hair as his lips became the whole of her existence for a moment. She almost missed an odd whimpering sound that floated past her ears, and some vague part of her brain registered with slight horror that she had made the sound, but she could not bring herself to care. He kissed her like it was all that he had wanted to do these last four months, and she kissed back with equal fervor, unaware that her hands had moved to his shoulders until she noticed they were pushing his jacket off of his arms. He broke away, let the thing fall on the floor, and then trailed his eyes to her hair. His hand soon followed, and as he took her hair down, she found that she had one thing to be grateful to Natasha for. He tossed the clip aside as if it had personally wronged him and then resumed his ravaging kiss, now able to thoroughly wreck her hair in the process.

It was, at once, just like their time in Virginia and nothing like it at all, because it was amplified beyond what she could remember, and he kissed her with a sense of confidence that he had lacked before. It was only a subtle spark of confidence, but the difference that it made was intoxicating.

His kisses eventually made their way to her neck, and as she clawed mindlessly in his hair, which felt softer now than it had when it was long, she gave no thought to what would happen in a week when she had to go home and resume normal life. Thinking could come later.

Both of them breathing heavily, he left her neck and raised his head, then leaned his forehead against hers, all while his fingers never left her hair. She didn't want him to stop, so she took his face within her hands and pulled him back, matching the heat of his kisses with one of her own, and this time it was he who whose voice escaped his throat in a fleeting but deep groan against her lips.

Within moments, she found herself on her back, having been gently eased there by two cautious but driven hands, and it was as she lay there beneath him savoring and shivering under his kiss and his hands that were flirting with the hem of her dress, that a knock on the door brought an abrupt halt to it all.

They both froze, she with one hand in his hair and the other fumbling poorly with the buttons of his shirt, and he with his left hand planted on the bed beside her head and his other sliding up the back of her thigh. Then there was another knock, and Summer shot up so quickly that she almost bashed their heads together in the process.

She sat up straight, looked at Bucky and tried not to groan a little at his flushed, heavy lidded-look, then began trying to subdue her hair with her hands to make it less obvious what they had been doing. When she realized that was impossible, she smoothed down her dress and stood, hurrying to the door.

She opened it and was instantly mauled by her son, who had apparently missed her a great deal. Laughing, she picked him up and hugged him tight, stepping aside for a somewhat sheepish-looking Steve Rogers to enter.

"Thank you again," she said as he walked inside, setting David down on his feet and asking, "Was he good? No freakouts? Did he listen to you?"

"He was a champ," Steve assured her with a smile. "We had fun. We watched all my old Captain America films from the war and ordered pizza."

She smiled and mussed her boy's hair, then asked, "Did he eat? He barely eats when his routine's thrown off."

"He ate two whole pieces," Steve replied, to her shock. "I told you had nothing to worry about."

She smiled. "Thank you, again."

He nodded, then looked from her to Bucky, who was standing nearby with his hands in his pockets, giving absolutely nothing away. "So, you guys have a good time?"

Summer nodded. "Yeah, we had a great time. Thank you for making it happen," she said, mentally screaming at herself to stop thanking the poor man. She glanced over at Bucky, then down at her own barefoot, slightly disheveled image, and cringed a little.

"No problem. Any plans for the rest of the week?"

As they chatted, Bucky took his left hand from his pocket and used it to pick up his jacket from the floor, which did not escape Steve's notice. David started paying attention too, and when he saw the gleam of the metal hand, his eyes lit up with recognition.

He ran over to Bucky, who didn't notice him until he reached up and tugged at his shirt to get his attention. Bucky looked down, and David beamed up at him before launching himself forward in a big five year old hug.

From the corner of her eye, Summer saw this, and lost her train of thought as she turned her full attention on her son and the man that he had missed. Bucky's return hug was every bit as awkward as the one he'd given David the day that he left her home, but it brought a smile to her face. She glanced at Steve, who watched himself curiously before glancing at her.

"He's missed the guy with the cool arm," she explained while David finally ended the hug and wandered off towards his toys. Then she smiled at Bucky, who seemed unsure of what had just happened, and then Steve brought the night to a close.

"All right, well, we'll leave you two alone now, I'm sure you're both ready to catch up on your sleep. You're welcome to come over whenever you want."

She nodded, then watched Steve bid her son goodbye while Bucky had thrown his jacket on and was fiddling with the holographic cover that was back on his hand.

Steve was the first to make for the door after saying his goodbyes, and Summer smiled as Bucky crossed the room to follow him. He stopped in front of her, and before she could wonder what he was about to do, he leaned in and left a small kiss on her cheek before muttering near her ear, "_Bonsoir_."

She narrowed her eyes at him after he pulled away, that maddening playful look back in his eye, and she shook her head as he walked to the door. "Jerk."

"You're not the first to say so," Steve assured her with a smile. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," she called after both men, just before Bucky closed the door with one last glance to her. She sighed, then walked to the nearest of the double beds and collapsed on it face first.

_I'm not going to survive this week._

**A**/**N: Aaaaaaand the sequel! And as you can see, I was not kidding when I said that the first chapter was gigantic. All the chapters I've got so far for this average around 10,000 words, which makes them obviously take longer to write but are much better, in my opinion. I'll try to stick to once-weekly updates, and I hope you guys will like this story as much as the first :) there will definitely be more characters involved and, you know, actual personality from Bucky, which hopefully I won't screw up too badly. My thanks to you wonderful readers, and to midnightwings96 for being an invaluable help as always, being my sounding board and always helping out with ideas and generally being awesome. I'll see you guys next week, and let me know what you all think! :D**

**Oh, and as for the French-to-English translation Bucky won't provide, here it is, UPDATED from its previous Google translation thanks to PicoBogue, who was kind enough to leave a lovely review and a revision of what I had before. **

**Tu es magnifique, ce soir, mais j'aimerais autant te voir porter ces chaussures et rien d'autre:**

**You look beautiful tonight, but I'd rather see you in the shoes and nothing else.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N #1: Big fat trigger warning for mentions of rape in the first section of this chapter. Nothing explicit but it's major enough that I actually remembered to add a trigger warning for once in my life**.

Groggily, Summer woke up to bright rays of the sun assaulting her eyes through their lids, and she groaned and buried her face into her pillow. She planned on sleeping for as long as possible, regardless of how adamant the sun was on waking her, but she froze and abandoned that plan when she felt a hand slide across her back.

Opening her eyes, she saw not typical neutral hotel room walls that she had fallen asleep in, but the familiar walls of her bedroom back home in Fall's Church. The sheets that she was burrowed in were her own, and as she slowly turned to see whose hand was upon her, she held her breath, unable to stop the grip of fear from overtaking her. Luckily, she still slept with her gun under the pillow.

But, as it turned out, when she saw who was sitting on the side of the bed, her fear dissipated and a small smile grew on her face. "Bucky. You scared the crap out of me."

He was dressed exactly as he had been on their date, and he gave her a half-smile as she shifted to her back. That was when she realized that she was also dressed the same way, boots and all, and with confusion, she looked from herself to the man sitting beside her. "What's going o-"

A single metal finger to her lips quieted her, and the chill of it sent a shiver down her spine as he shifted, leaning forward and placing himself over her. "Quiet. Trust me."

She furrowed her brows and felt clear and distinct unease unfurl from within, but then his finger left her lips and he kissed her with a fury that made her mind go blank.

Still, it didn't feel right. His kiss wasn't right, the words were not his own, and the way that his hands grabbed and pulled carelessly at her dress was completely off. Everything within her told her to be afraid of him, but this was Bucky; she had only feared him when she first met him. He had never hurt her, not on purpose, and this strange, sloppy aggression was not something she had ever experienced at his hand.

"Bucky," she said when his lips left hers to attack her neck while he yanked at the skirt of her dress, "wait, stop - please, I don't -"

He continued on anyway, and when she tried to push him off enough to get a few inches between them, he grabbed her wrists and pinned them next to her head. Another prickle of fear shot through her, then magnified when she looked up and saw the slightly crazed look in Bucky's eye. She noticed then that he didn't smell right, either. He smelled like cheap beer and cigarettes, which made no sense, because she was fairly sure that he was physically unable to get drunk, and he didn't smoke.

Somewhere in her head, she knew exactly what was happening, because she had relived this moment hundreds of times before, just not quite like this.

"I told you, be quiet. Trust me for once."

She struggled against his hold, to no avail, as she began to panic. "Bucky, please, you're scaring me -"

His metal hand closed over her mouth, muffling her voice and silencing her as he hummed _shhh_ over and over while her eyes widened and began to fill with tears. His eyelids drooped slightly and his voice began to slur as he said, "You know you want it. You've made us both wait long enough."

His hand stayed over her mouth, and nothing she did to try to fight him off worked. She was helpless and stuck where she was, and the tears that fell from her eyes and the muffled cries of pain and fear did nothing to stop the man above her from doing what he pleased. She was trapped, a useless witness to her own assault at the hands of someone she had trusted. It felt like it went on forever, each second stretching into its own unique, torturous eternity, marked by blood and broken skin and the drunken grunts of a man she would forever hate following that day.

In his fervor, his metal hand unintentionally slipped an inch upwards and covered her nose in addition to her mouth. Fresh panic burst forth within her, and her cries became barely-heard screams as she slowly suffocated.

Her vision blurred, the ceiling fading from view, and though she felt herself losing consciousness, she never stopped fighting. She never stopped screaming, struggling, and clinging to the life she held that would never be the same once this was over.

With a mix of a scream and a gasp, Summer shot up in bed, sweat-soaked and hysterical until reality sunk in enough to convince her that it was over, the nightmare was over, and she was safe in her New York City hotel room.

It was well into the morning, almost noon already, and she looked down at her shaking hands as she breathed raggedly before lowering her head into them and trying to calm herself down. It had been a long time since she'd had that particular nightmare, and the fact that Bucky had played the part of David's father was a stark example of how particularly cruel and twisted her mind could be to her own self.

Breathing steadily in and out, consciously doing so, she winced at a tear that rolled down her cheek. She'd cried enough tears over that particular night, relived it enough for several lifetimes since it had happened over five years ago, and she did not want to waste anymore tears or thoughts over it. But, whenever she thought she had overcome it completely and was done letting it haunt her, something like this would happen, and she would be reminded that traumatic events were not something one simply "got over", perhaps ever.

One day, she was sure that she would have a whopper of all her nightmares, meshing that one and her other most common one, the night that HYDRA had nearly killed her and her son, just to make it as horrifying as possible.

But, despite the lingering horror and pain of the memory of struggling to breathe under a hand that had most certainly not been metal in real life, she calmed eventually and drew a deep breath as she lifted her head and looked around the room. David was still asleep, the room was bathed in morning light, and the street outside was as noisy as one would expect in NYC. She remembered why she was here, who she was here for, and the date that she'd had last night, and it sickened her that Bucky would ever be conjured up in a dream in such a way. Whatever his faults, whatever his past, he had no place in her nightmares, none at all.

Then she started to feel anger eclipse the horror. She had given Mark enough power over her for long enough, wasting time and energy hating him and letting what he did haunt her mind and push her straight into a breakdown when she had found out that she was pregnant from that night. He didn't get to have the slightest influence anymore, not here, not now.

With a determined sigh, she got up out of bed and walked to the bathroom. Her feet were still sore after the previous night, but she didn't notice as she made a beeline for the sink and proceeded to splash her face with water and metaphorically wash away the utter stupidity of the dream.

She grabbed a hand towel to wipe her face, then wondered why in the world her mind would even go there in the first place. The nightmare itself was one thing, but Mark was always Mark. Nobody else ever stepped in to fill the role of drunk loser boyfriend who decided to take advantage of his girlfriend at the worst possible time. And if an exception to that rule was to be made, why couldn't it have been someone random like an actor she hated, like Matt Damon, whom she irrationally despised for no reason? Why did it have to be Bucky, of all the men in the world?

Because your brain sucks, she thought as she looked at her reflection, unimpressed with what she saw. She was oddly pale and she could all but see the scenes replay behind her blue eyes, and it was just disheartening to think that these dreams may never leave entirely. Maybe they'd just evolve and find new ways of disturbing her and starting her days horribly, like this day, Exhibit A.

Suddenly feeling exhausted all over again, she trudged back to bed and climbed in, grabbing her phone off the nightstand as she did. Sitting with her back to the headboard, she opened her phone and found two unread messages.

The first was from Paul. _Don't tell me you've never been hearin' of Sirius Black! He's a murrrrrrdererrrrrr"_

She rolled her eyes but grinned anyway. While it was normal for him to text her random Harry Potter quotes, he'd been sending ones about murderers and Voldemort since her confession in California that she was, in fact, somewhat involved with someone, and that she couldn't tell him who it was or anything about him. Naturally, he thought she was in love with Patrick Bateman or a Potterverse equivalent of him.

_It's too early for Stan Shunpike. And my week in New York is going fine, thanks for asking_. After sending that reply, she moved on to the next message, which was from her vacation's funder.

_Looks like it's gonna rain all day, so come on over whenever you like and we can make Bucky catch up on some movies or something. I didn't tell you this, but he's waiting very impatiently for you guys to wake up._

She smiled a little, then typed a quick reply that told Steve that David wasn't yet awake but she'd get over there hopefully within an hour or two. Then her phone buzzed with a new message from Paul.

_Well, I figured I wasn't allowed to ask because of all the secrecy. I have a brilliant new theory btw. I've put all the pieces together and come to the conclusion that ur mystery man is none other than Loki. Admit it. Totally makes sense._

She spit-laughed, then shook her head and sighed a little bit as she typed her answer. _Wrong again. Not that I wouldn't be all over that if he wasn't a psychotic killer. Although isn't he dead now? _Vague reports of the former Earth-invader's death had been circulating ever since a giant IUD-shaped alien ship thing had appeared out of nowhere in London and Thor had saved the day awhile back, and later on Thor had been reported as confirming Loki's death in battle on some other weird planet. In fact, it had caused quite the stir, because Thor had used the words "died with honor", and Earth's inhabitants seemed to think that such a thing was impossible since they viewed Thor's brother as the very incarnation of evil.

Her phone buzzed._ Psh. He's probably in Area 51 in cahoots with all the Nazis. And you are disgusting btw. Why can't you just have a crush on one of the good guys? Captain America's hot. I'm secure enough in my masculinity to say so._

She facepalmed and suppressed the urge to scream. Every fiber within her wanted to come clean, agree that _yes_, Captain America was indeed yummy but his complicated best friend was yummier and that's who she was being secretive with, but she couldn't. For one, he would overreact and probably call the FBI for her protection and ruin everything, and secondly, she didn't know how she would even begin to explain it, or what label to use to describe exactly what Bucky was to her.

_Captain America's fine. But he's blonde. You know how I feel about that. Same goes for Thor._

In the other double bed, David began to stir, and she knew he'd be up soon. She was actually a bit relieved by the rain today. Better to save the sightseeing for later and give David time to settle in for the week, as much as he could, and staying mostly indoors was ideal for that.

_Yeah, the greasy haired psycho is so much better. My sister is a freak._

She grinned and texted back, _One word: Stuttgart. The footage with the suit and the hair and the scarf. Ignore the eye-gauging or whatever. Just saying._

A moment later: _One word: psychotherapy_.

She chuckled, putting her phone down as David got up and dragged himself to her bed before crawling up in her lap and closing his eyes. She hugged him, thinking idly about her brother and his accusations of her having the weirdest taste in men, ranging from fictional characters to malevolent aliens, and yes, it was true, to an extent. But contrary to what he liked to say, she did not like "villains", and she would not actually touch Loki with a ten foot pole. Paul just wanted her to find some normal, stable guy somewhere to fall in love with who would give her the simpler, easier life he wanted for her.

Which is why she kept her secret a secret for now. If Paul knew who she had spent the previous night dining with and dancing with and kissing, he would think her insane and be unable to look past the words _Winter Soldier_ long enough to see the truth. And the truth, blossoming forth in her mind with even more vigor following last night, was that she very much did have a crush on one of the "good guys", even if the man in question couldn't remember much of being one.

He was _good_. And no nightmare, whether his or hers, would ever convince her otherwise.

* * *

"So I take it last night went well."

Bucky gave a non-committal shrug, drinking his coffee and trying not to glance at the clock on the stove. "Would have been better if Natasha hadn't been tailing us."

Steve paused from across the table. "Look, I'm sorry about that. But it was for your protection, too. She told me there was some kind of prank with some punks and a gunshot, and that you handled it well."

He set down his cup and shook his head slightly, thinking back to that moment. He'd been on the cusp of a flashback, a bad one that might have left him half-catatonic for the night, but Summer had pulled him back from it before he could lose himself. "Because of her."

"I assume you don't mean Natasha."

Bucky gave him an unimpressed look, and Steve grinned.

"Give yourself some credit. That's actually pretty huge. Make sure you tell Dr. Connor tomorrow."

"I'd have to tell him about her then," Bucky pointed out. "I don't think I want to."

"He already knows about her. You've told him the story. Right?"

"Some of it."

Steve paused. "Oh. Well, then maybe now's the time to do it."

"No point. I don't want the lecture."

"I doubt you've done anything worth lecturing with her."

"If I told him I went out on a date, in public, he would flip his wig." That made Steve smile, which made Bucky narrow his eyes. "What?"

"Nothing. It's just that you're starting to sound more like yourself every day and you don't even realize it."

Bucky didn't let it show, but little things like this were enough to make his day go by a lot less painfully than they would otherwise. Every time Steve said something like that, or he recovered a memory from his early years, he would feel a little lighter and more hopeful than he had the moment before. It wouldn't last forever, but being able to believe for a little while that he really was recovering his old self, one step at a time, gave him motivation to keep going.

"She seems to like you a lot."

Bucky looked down at his drink, unable to think of anything to say to that. After last night, after several hours of watching her blush and smile and light up at his smallest, most innocent touches, he could no longer doubt it himself, but he was no closer to understanding why.

And the sounds that she had made when he kissed her had been new. Having her lying down beneath him was new too, and it had given him a lot to think about when he got home. A lot. Granted, it was one of the more pleasant things he'd lost sleep over, but the level of desire he'd experienced following just a few moments of kissing was more overwhelming than he'd bargained for.

"Bucky?"

His head snapped up, and he realized he'd been staring off blankly like he did when much worse thoughts were getting the better of him. "I'm fine."

"You sure?"

He almost laughed. "No."

"What's wrong?"

He took a breath, but before he could answer, there was a knock on the door, and if his entire demeanor changed and instantly brightened, it would probably account for the way Steve smiled at him as he got up and headed to the door. Bucky had the sudden and inexplicable urge to stick his foot out and trip him in retaliation, but he ignored it and compulsively ran a hand through his hair, then frowned a little when the loud, shiny metal of his arm caught his eye. He wanted nothing more than to throw a hoodie on over his black t-shirt and disguise his hand, but knowing that she would prefer him as he was, and the fact that her son hadn't recognized him until he saw the hand, convinced him to be uncomfortable for the day. At least part of it.

Then he heard the door open and her voice carry softly into the apartment, and he spent a moment thinking too much about if he should stay where he was or get up to greet her. He ended up just twisting around in his seat in time to see her come inside and meet his gaze, a small smile reaching her lips when she did, and he didn't notice it, but he gave her the smallest of smiles back.

Annoyance flickered across his face when he watched Steve politely take her coat from her, the same one from last night, and he decided that for the rest of the week, when she came over, he'd answer the door himself so he'd get to do that.

* * *

Regardless of the rough start to her day and the nearly two hours that it took to get out of the hotel room, Summer had all but forgotten about it all by the time she was sitting in Steve Roger's living room, on the couch with Bucky next to her and the Captain himself across from them, while David flitted back and forth between the two men, unsure of who to harass the most. The oddest part of it all was how normal it felt, despite the fact that she was a nobody who was still in shock, months later, that she personally knew either of these men.

Bucky stayed mostly silent, but he seemed comfortable enough next to her, occasionally looking at her and making her breath catch when he did. Steve was good at making polite conversation with her, asking her questions about her backstory that she wasn't sure he didn't already know, but either way, he was easy to talk to and it kept the situation from feeling awkward or forced.

The highlight of it all, she had to admit, was watching David hand first Bucky and then Steve a toy each, then go back and forth between playing with both of them. And unlike before, Bucky actually legitimately played with him this time, rather than just awkwardly hold the toy and stare at it until David moved on.

He caught her smiling at him a few times, and when she would look away, she could feel his eyes stay where they were. Eventually, Steve began to take notice of this.

"So," he said, cheerfully, "Bucky said you might be up for showing one of us how to make a decent homemade dinner?"

"Oh," she chuckled in mild surprise, "uh... yeah, I mean, if you wanted to take a chance on my cooking -"

"He says it's great," Steve replied, nodding at Bucky.

She glanced at the man in question, then turned to him more fully and said, "Well, all right, then. What did you like most that I made?"

He thought for a moment, then answered, "I liked your meatballs a lot."

"Yeah you did," she smiled, remembering that particular night. "You ate like fifteen of them. Or twenty, actually, I can't remember."

"Sounds great," Steve interjected. "If you tell me what you need for it I'll run to the store and get it."

"Uh... well, what do you have here?"

A few moments later, Steve was showing her around his kitchen and what food and spices and such things he had in stock, and she was surprised that he had as much as he did until she realized that she had no reason to think of him as a typical guy with no clue how to cook anything.

"All right, so, let me a make a list," she said, getting out her phone to type one out, then stopping when Steve scratched his head, then made another suggestion.

"Actually - how about you leave David here with me and you and Bucky go instead?"

She blinked, looking up from her phone and immediately launching into a refusal. "I - no, no, I can't keep asking you to watch him for me, really -"

"You haven't asked," he grinned. "I've offered." Then he glanced towards the living room, and she followed his gaze to Bucky, who was making extremely quiet wooshing sounds as he flew David's small Thor toy through the air for him. She filed it away in memories to recall if she ever wanted to smile like an idiot and melt a little. Or a lot. "The thing is," Steve continued in a more hushed tone, "I'm trying to get him out more, give him more... normalcy, I guess. And I don't want to be in the way the whole time you're here, either."

"You're not in the... oh," she trailed off, suddenly getting it. "Okay. I didn't bring much of David's things, though..."

"The store's two blocks away," Steve replied. "You won't be gone long. He'll be fine." Then he paused and asked in almost a whisper, "If anything happens while you're out, call me." He paused again and asked his next question in a tone that suggested he despised it. "Do you carry any weapons?"

Her eyes widened a bit but she replied, "I have mace and a taser in my purse. Couldn't bring my guns with me."

He nodded. "You won't need to use them. Just... pay attention to any signs that something's triggering him, and call me and try to bring him home right away if something does."

"You mean like... if he starts staring or speaking Russian or something? That's what he did before."

"Yeah, or if he seems like he suddenly doesn't recognize you anymore."

Her eyes widened a bit. "Does that happen a lot?"

He shook his head, "Only once so far. There were certain... keywords they used, ways that they programmed him. I told him one night that if he wanted, he could be an asset in the search for leftover HYDRA agents, and... it was a long night. Don't use the word 'asset' around him."

Luckily, that wasn't very high on her vocabulary. "Okay. Anything else I need to know?"

He shook his head, then replied, "Just that I'm really glad you came."

She fidgeted briefly, unsure of how to respond, ending up going with, "I really am gonna pay you back for all of this one day, I swear -"

He furrowed his brows while shaking his head, waving her off. "I wouldn't take your money if you tried to give it to me. Now go before Bucky accuses me of trying to steal you from him."

She smiled and turned, mostly expecting the suspicious side look she was getting from Bucky as she left the kitchen following her hushed conversation with Steve. Cheerfully, she walked up to where he was seated and asked, "Want to take a walk to the store?"

He looked at her, then at Steve who sat back down across from him, then back to her. "What?"

She smiled. "Walk. To a store. With me. Do you want to?"

He looked like he was about to ask why they were going instead of Steve, but then he quietly nodded and handed Thor back to David before getting up and heading to his room. He didn't look particularly happy about it, but she tried not to think much of it as she got her coat on and then waited on the couch.

When Bucky came back, in the jacket she hated with a passion with a black hat smashed over his head and his hand disguised, he came to a wordless halt and waited for her to lead the way while half-glaring at Steve. Steve only smiled cheerfully while Summer grabbed her purse and told David she would be back soon. He barely acknowledged her and kept playing.

"Okay, let's hurry up before the rain starts again," she told Bucky as he followed her to the door.

They were barely in the hallway with the door closed behind them before Bucky deadpanned, "So what was Steve whispering to you about?"

She froze for a moment, but only for a moment. She knew that he would ask, and he had every right to. He also had the right to the truth, and if she was really his friend and whatever else, the right to have her not dance around the truth when it came to these things.

"Just some pointers to make sure I don't say something stupid and make you snap and kill me while we're out."

* * *

Of course, he already knew what they had discussed. The question was merely a test to see how she would answer, and he was relieved by her honesty and lack of eggshell walking. It was bad enough to be a ticking timebomb, to an extent, without being treated like one as well.

She started walking ahead of him, down the stairwell in her flat shoes that didn't constrain her the way that those boots from last night did, and he followed after her. "I didn't snap last night."

"Yeah, but I guess since we don't have a babysitter this time he thought I should have a warning," she shrugged as they reached the next flight of stairs. "But I'm not worried. It's just a grocery store."

He didn't reply, falling into step beside her as they turned out on the sidewalk, under a gray sky and a chilly breeze. He watched her from the corner of his eye as she shivered a little and then shoved her hands in the pockets of her coat, then let his eyes wander down to her legs, outlined well in fitted dark jeans and holding his attention for a bit before he moved his gaze back up and settled on the hair she wore loose over her shoulders.

"You should watch where you're walking."

Snapping out of it suddenly, he met her eyes and saw a grin on her lips. He thought about looking away and reminding himself that staring generally unnerved people, but then he remembered who this was walking next to him and replied, "You should be used to it by now."

"Well, maybe from you, but trust me, nobody's ever stared at me like that before in my life," she said. "You're the first."

He thought for a moment on how to answer that, wondering why or how exactly that could be true. "I doubt that," was his final underwhelming response.

"You realize that the closest thing to male interaction that I had for five years was when the UPS guy would knock on my door or I'd get a guy cashier at Walmart?" she replied, giving him an incredulous look.

He shrugged. "Before that, then."

She fell silent then, and he looked at her cautiously. She ended up shrugging and answering, "Nothing much to talk about there, either."

This was starting to hurt his head a bit. He was not blind or otherwise impaired in ways that would make him perceive her incorrectly, so he knew that she was every bit as attractive as he saw her to be. And his habit of analyzing everything and everyone around him had identified at least six men who had looked at her with interest during their date the night before. And one more man since they'd left the apartment.

His hand itched to grab hers, to put off the attention, but he kept it in his pocket.

"I'm sure you had the opposite experience back in your day."

He narrowed his eyes and almost objected to the veiled "old man" joke, but the grin she flashed was disarming, and he merely shrugged. "I guess. I only remember bits and pieces, so it doesn't help much."

"Help with what?"

"Knowing what the hell I'm doing."

The market was within sight, and Summer replied quietly, "Well, you could have fooled me."

When her words registered with him, he turned to look at her just as she flashed him a smile and ducked into the store. He followed her inside and felt his lips curl just a little bit, especially when she reached back and grabbed his hand as she picked up a grocery basket and headed into the aisles.

Steve's ideas weren't always terrible.

* * *

Shopping with Bucky was a bit similar to shopping with David, in that both of them apparently liked to touch things and stare at different items for too long and end up making her almost leave them behind on accident. She found herself leading Bucky by his hand, finding him rather cute as he took everything in and asked her questions about things like what exactly gluten was and why labels would possibly want to brag about something not having sugar.

"Why hasn't Steve taken you to a grocery store before?" she asked, though not complaining about being his guide on his first trip to one. She'd grabbed almost everything she needed and had the basket balanced on her arm after shaking her head at his offer to hold it for her.

Bucky shrugged. "I think he orders food in bulk or something."

That, she could understand. "Does it get old eating that much? Seems kind of exhausting."

"Sometimes."

"I mean, I remember being pregnant and hungry all the time, and it was the worst. I gained like fifty-five pounds and looked like I was smuggling hobbits in barrels under my shirt." Then she looked back at the confused look on his face and sighed. "I was gigantic is what I mean."

He didn't have much to say to that, and no wonder, she thought to herself, because what kind of freak follows up a hot date with tales of pregnancy weight gain while grocery shopping? May as well describe the joy of labor and C-sections and really get him in the mood to whisper more French in her ear. Yes, she was totally on the right track.

"Where?"

Snapping out of her self-ridicule, she looked up to find him walking at her side now, a hint of last night's playfulness in his eye, and she asked, "What?"

At her confusion, he looked away and shrugged. "Never mind."

Grabbing several giant cans of tomato sauce from a shelf, she furrowed her brows and tried to remember the very last thing she'd said, and it took her way too long to remember that it had been _I was gigantic_. And then it made sense.

_Poor guy_, she thought while hiding a smile, hearing her talk about barrels under her shirt and being gigantic and immediately going _there_, and she couldn't blame him. On the bright side, maybe she hadn't totally ruined the atmosphere with the brief pregnancy talk. Now if she could just catch on to these things when they were being said and not five minutes later, maybe she could keep up.

She sighed as they headed to the checkout lanes, knowing it was bad when one began to have trouble keeping up with a guy who was in his mid-nineties and had only a fraction of his memories in his possession. Maybe it was time to step up her game a bit.

Whatever that meant.

* * *

It was like being back at her home again, at the same time not. The familiar scent of her food cooking coupled with the child currently stuck to his side brought him a comforting sense of familiarity, even if he wasn't used to the boy being quite so attached to him and it was a little bit strange.

At the moment, David was using his arm as a platform for a battle between Iron Man and a villain he didn't recognize, some guy in a purple suit and green hair, and oddly enough, Bucky didn't mind. The kid was fearless.

What he was starting to mind was the pleasant conversation coming from the kitchen, and the sight of Steve helping Summer cook and doing all of her chopping and mincing for her. Were these the kind of things that he was supposed to offer to do? Probably not, because as good as he was with a knife, he'd be helpless if he was supposed to put one to a vegetable. Maybe this was what he was doomed to spend the week doing, sitting quietly while acting as a human sized toy while Steve got all the good conversation and interaction.

Iron Man was losing to the green-haired bad guy, laying on his back on Bucky's forearm while the bad guy started creeping closer. Glancing at David's very concentrated expression, Bucky then started shifting the plates in his arms around, and the motion knocked the bad guy off his arms and to the couch cushions. David gaped and then beamed, clearly finding the arm to be the coolest thing ever. Then he made Bucky do it again, and again.

Eventually, Steve's phone rang and he retreated to his room to take the call. Around the same time, something on TV distracted David long enough for Bucky to slip away from the couch and wander into the kitchen.

As usual, Summer didn't notice him, because his footsteps were as silent as ever. The kitchen was small, just big enough for the basics with a very small island providing extra counterspace, and there was not a lot of room where she was, between the island and the stove. He glanced at the island, then at her, and picked up a spoon on the counter and let it clatter back down in the hopes of not scaring her with his sudden presence.

She jumped anyway, then blushed a little and smiled when she turned and saw him standing not far away from her. "Geez, you scared me. It's almost done."

She was stirring a pot and her hair was thrown up in the same clip as the night before, and he was about to step closer and do... something, though he wasn't sure yet, when she suddenly whipped around with a spoon in her hand and a smile on her face.

"Can you taste and tell me if it's a good as what you remember?"

He looked at the spoon, then her, and leaned down to take the offered taste. After, he looked back up at her to find her bottom lip between her teeth, and the sudden urge to grab her and bite it for her made him forget what he was about to say.

"Good?" she asked quietly, maybe even slightly timidly. He nodded, only half-comprehending her question, then felt suddenly bereft when she turned back around and went back to stirring. Was that much stirring even necessary?

A quick glance around found David still occupied and Steve nowhere in sight. With little thought as to whether it was good timing or not, he took the last remaining step between them, leaving less than an inch of space between her back and his chest, and though she stiffened and started stirring with renewed vigor, he knew it wasn't because his proximity was unwanted.

He would always prefer her hair down, but up like this, it gave him a clear view of her lovely neck and a few very light, barely-there freckles that were just beneath her ear. He counted them, then before he could think twice about it, slowly leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to them.

She dropped the wooden spoon she'd been stirring with immediately, and when he kissed her again, trailing down slightly, she breathlessly mumbled, "You're... I'm gonna... gonna burn... something..."

Rather than pull away, he slipped his hand on her waist and drew her gently against him as his kisses gained zeal, neither of them noticing how Steve reemerged from the hallway, took one look into the kitchen, and then slowly backed away, going back the way he came.

* * *

She couldn't breathe or think like this, let alone cook. Did he do these things on purpose?

After she dropped the spoon, feeling like he was sucking all the air from her lungs just by lightly kissing along her neck, she leaned back into him and looked into the living room, her single coherent thought being that she still didn't necessarily want David to see any of this. But David was oblivious, and her gaze was torn away by a hand on her jaw guiding her head to the side, while his other one still held her close by her waist.

Heart thudding, she looked up into intense blue eyes and then down at lips that were so close to her own, almost brushing them, and shivered when he reached behind her head and slid his fingertips into her hair before pulling her closer as her eyes fell shut.

Then the oven timer beeped noisily, she jumped with an embarrassing squeak, and Bucky reluctantly moved away to let her get herself together enough to turn off the timer and get the meatballs out of the oven. Her nerves were suddenly on edge and she momentarily forgot what the next step of the cooking process was as she glanced behind her. He merely leaned against the island, watching her with mild amusement, and she wondered if he had any idea what he did to her brain with so little effort.

As she turned back to the food, trying to remember what she was supposed to do next, Steve reappeared in the hallway, cautiously peered towards the kitchen, then walked out nonchalantly when he saw that the coast was clear this time.

Bucky eventually had a modicum of mercy and left her to finish up dinner without having to feel his eyes on her the entire time, and by the time everybody was seated and eating, Summer could almost cry for how distracted she still was from a couple of soft, unexpected kisses that he had clearly meant to scramble her brain with.

To her relief, the food turned out exactly as it always did, which was very well, and there was something particularly satisfying in having Captain America praise your cooking. Someday, when she could speak of these things, she would point out to Paul the fact that the world's first superhero liked her food even if he liked to nitpick at it and doubt that it was edible.

After everybody was full, Steve got a text that had him up and out of the apartment at impressive speed after giving the appropriate apologies, and still seated at table, Summer looked to Bucky questioningly after the front door closed behind the super soldier. He shrugged. "He does that."

"... Super secret business or...?"

He shrugged again. "Doesn't really tell me. Probably Natasha though."

"Oh." Well, then. The likelihood of Steve still being a "95 year old virgin" kept dwindling more each day she spent in New York.

In any case, now Summer felt the burden of figuring out what to do with the rest of the night fall to her by default. She only had so many options.

"So, movie?" When he only shrugged at that suggestion, she asked, "Did you ever get around to finishing Star Wars?"

"Not yet."

"We could try to finish it now," she suggested.

"I didn't mind not finishing it."

She smiled a little, thinking back to that particular night in Virginia, and then glanced over to David, who had finished eating quickly and was now wrapped up in his tablet on the couch. "Well, just so you know, my rule still applies. About when David's watching."

"Sorry."

He didn't look particularly sorry. If anything, he looked rather happy with himself. "I saw him playing with your arm earlier. I hope that was okay."

He shrugged, but his expression became a bit more serious. "It was fine."

She smiled warmly, then got up and motioned for him to do the same. "All right, come on. I'll get you into Star Wars if it's the last thing I do."

* * *

A few hours later, Summer couldn't believe it. She was sitting on the couch, with David's head in her lap as he had fallen asleep way before his bedtime, and on her other side, Bucky was also asleep. Of all the ways she expected the night to go, this was not one of them. And she was fairly sure that Bucky was never going to finish the movie.

Credits rolling on the TV, she gently pried David from her lap and stood up, then peered at Bucky's sleeping form. He was sitting up, arms crossed, head straight back against the couch, and the only part of him that looked remotely relaxed was his face. Still, there was nothing peaceful about the slumber, that much she could tell, and she was a little taken aback that he felt secure enough around her to just doze off like that. Then again, he probably hadn't meant to.

She called his name softly a few times, but he didn't budge. After spending one too many minutes marveling at how long his dark lashes looked against his skin, she decided to leave him be. She couldn't imagine that he slept much better these days than he had before.

Suddenly alone for all intents and purposes, she wandered off to the bathroom, wondering how long David could sleep without completely ruining his bedtime later. On her way out, she chuckled at the array of hair products that littered the counter. But, for two frozen old men, they did have some good hair, so it wasn't surprising.

Then she wandered back into the hallway, and an open door to a bedroom in front of it caught her interest. Later she would wonder what had possibly possessed her to go peek into it, given that she had no idea who the room belonged to and that even if she did it was still rude, but she poked her head inside anyway.

She flipped the light on for a better look, curiosity getting the better of her, and she knew right away that she'd picked the right room. The mostly barren state of it and the stacks upon stacks of books next to the bed, plus the rather abused-looking sheets, were clear giveaways that it was Bucky's room. She would have turned off the light and walked away had she not spotted the book he'd left her home with on the table next to his bed.

One peek wouldn't hurt, right? After all, she had given up her own bedroom to him for a month, so one look around his wasn't that big of a deal.

crept towards his bed, and when the book was within reach, she opened it and skimmed through it, smiling when she found her lock of hair still within the pages. She wondered why he had it on a piece of furniture rather than with the vast stacks of other books as she closed it, placing back where it had been and intending to turn and leave the room. But, when she cast one more glance at the books on the floor, the corner of what appeared to be a folder caught her eye from near her foot. It was half-shoved under his bed with its contents partially spilling out, like it had been thrown there, and upon closer inspection, had Russian writing on the cover.

It would have been a good time to leave and forget she'd seen anything, but after a cautious glance to the open door, she knelt down and slid the folder out from under the bed.

If it was what she thought it might be, she didn't really want to see what was inside. She had quickly given up trying to research more of his history and deeds from within HYDRA after learning the basics from the Internet leaks during his first week in her home, because it was his story to tell her if he wanted and it wasn't fair to him to learn it a different way. It was enough to know that he had been controlled and brainwashed into murdering HYDRA's enemies. She didn't need to hear any more details unless he felt the need to confide them to her, if that day ever came.

So why did she look? She instantly wished that she hadn't. One turn of the cover later, and she was staring a picture of him on ice. A smaller picture of him from the 40's, in his Army uniform, was paperclipped to the bottom of the page, and her eyes flitted between the two before settling on the larger one, the one that she knew she never should have looked at, because she would never forget it and she already wished that she could.

It didn't make her feel pity for him. It pissed her off.

She closed the folder, returning it to its previous position, her chest tight as she tried to shake the image off. Then she stood up, turned around, and froze at the sight of Bucky leaning against the doorframe, watching her with a mix of caution and curiosity.

_Well, crap._

"I'm sorry," she instantly said, feeling her cheeks heat up with embarrassment and guilt. He didn't look particularly angry, but now she felt like a big fat rude jerk. "I just... I don't even know what I was thinking, honestly, I just... I don't know. I'm sorry."

He responded to her elegant-as-ever speech by holding up his hand briefly, silencing her as he walked inside the room. She fretted as she stood there, not knowing what to do with herself, still feeling terrible and absolutely stupid. All she got out of the deal was a visual that she never wanted to see, but what else had she expected from a Russian file that was half under his bed?

"If you wanted to see my room, you could have just asked," he said finally, standing near his dresser, glancing at her with an expression that was still free of any anger.

"Yeah, well, I'm an idiot, so," she shrugged. "I should probably go before I do something else stupid."

She took a few steps, but a question from him gave her pause. "Like what?"

"...I don't know, but I'm sure I could manage something."

She didn't really want to leave, however, so she remained where she was, fidgeting with her hands, until he spoke again. "I can't read that file. I've tried and I can't."

She knew he didn't mean that he literally couldn't, since he spoke the language. "Maybe you shouldn't." When he looked at her questioningly, she blinked and added, "I mean, don't listen to me. I don't know anything. But reliving things... sucks." Her mind flashed to her dream from that morning, then quickly shoved it away.

He stayed silent, and she took the opportunity to take a good look at him. He really did look exhausted, but she supposed that she hadn't really registered it because she had never seen him not look exhausted. Maybe it was clearer now after seeing the old picture of him in uniform, from a time when sleep had surely not been so much of an issue.

"How are you sleeping?" she asked softly.

He scoffed dismissively. "I'm not."

"I figured. That's why I didn't try to wake you. Although at this rate, you're never gonna finish that movie," she joked, trying to lighten the conversation. He appreciated it, but he didn't quite smile back.

At this point, before, she might have given him a reassuring touch or even a hug, but now everything seemed trickier. Also, she was in his room, and they were as close to alone as they were going to get tonight.

Eventually, something shiny on top of his dresser caught her eye. Based on the shape of it, it could really be only one thing, but how in the world did he have it? "Are those..."

He followed her gaze to his dog tags, then picked them up and looked at them before handing them to her. "Yeah. Steve stole them from the Smithsonian."

She took them carefully, reading his name and information on the silver tag. It really was something that these things had survived all those years somehow, a relic from better days that she wished she could have known him in. Then his words slowly registered in her head. When they did, she looked up at him and narrowed her eyes. "He stole something?"

"He said he was returning them to their owner," he shrugged. "Didn't want to admit that he stole something."

She smiled at his remark and then handed the dog tags back to him, but instead of opening his palm to take them, he gently took her wrist in his grip and pulled her closer, which made her stomach flip. He raised his other hand, the left one, and opened it, so she dropped the chain into it, and he didn't let go of her wrist as he placed it back on the dresser.

She felt the urge to start babbling take over when his hand left her wrist to reach to her face, moving a piece of hair behind her ear. "I still really want to know what you said in French yesterday."

He smiled his maddening little half-smile and glanced down at the floor - or was that her shoes? - before replying, "It still applies today."

"What's that mean?" she asked just as he tried to pull her in for a kiss, but she managed to resist - barely. "No. Nope. I won't kiss you until you tell me what you said."

He narrowed his eyes in a way that told her that he didn't believe her, then leaned in only to end up kissing her cheek. He pulled back and looked at her with a mix of amusement and irritation. She tried not to smile and held her head up. "I mean it. Not until you tell me."

He replied by taking her waist in both hands and turning her, pushing her against the dresser and taking her by surprise. He held her there and then brushed her hair aside before pressing a kiss to the side of her neck, and she couldn't help but whine a little. "That's cheating!"

Cheating or not, she didn't stop him, and instead grasped his hair and shoulder while trying not to moan like some floozy as he took his time kissing everywhere that he could, from the top of her neck to the bottom, over her collarbone and across the few inches of her chest that her shirt didn't cover, then back up and to the other side of her neck, to her ear and then across her jaw, and finally, the corner of her mouth. She was panting by the time he got there, and having felt a few flicks of his tongue a couple of times along the way, she opened her eyes and breathlessly muttered, "You're such a liar." When he stared at her in slight confusion, she explained, "Saying you don't know what you're doing."

The half-smile made a brief reappearance, and then he leaned in to kiss her, but she still resisted, pulling back before his lips could touch hers. He huffed in frustration, and she smiled, proud that she hadn't given in yet. "Tell me what you said first."

"No," he replied, staring down at her lips and breathing hard himself.

"Why?" she half-whined, getting to the point of desperation in wanting to know what he said. He didn't answer, trailing kisses back across her jaw to her ear, and when she felt the gentle nip of his teeth and her resulting shudder, she knew she wouldn't hold out for much longer. "Can I at least have a hint?"

Returning back to her lips, he licked his own and then appeared to think for a moment before replying, "You'll blush even more than you are right now when I tell you someday."

Someday? She was about to start whining again, but then he claimed her lips in a kiss that swallowed her words and her breath whole and then, if that wasn't enough, he utterly knocked her off of her own personal axis by unexpectedly lifting her up on top of the dresser and eliminating the very concept of space between them.

She smiled against his lips, having always wanted to be picked up and ravaged on top of something, and now she could finally say that she had been.

* * *

He knew that she didn't know what she was doing to him, that she couldn't have a clue how every whine and soft, almost imperceptible moan that left her throat hit him in places that were alive and well again and driving his every move. She was wrong about him being a liar, though, because whatever he was doing, it wasn't a result of thinking but of feeling, and that was what made it so uniquely freeing.

If having her underneath him the night before had been a revelation, then having her pressed against him with her legs around his hips was a life-changing epiphany. Nothing was satisfying, and nothing filled the growing ache from within, but instead, every kiss and every touch and every sound out of her mouth only drove him to want more. And, it was apparent that something had unlocked within her as well, because her hands were more exploratory than they'd ever been before, and the sensation of her squeezing her legs around him and grinding against him shorted out whatever parts of his brain had still been functioning until that point.

He was barely aware of his own movements as he picked her up again and this time carried her to his bed, where he dropped her and immediately and climbed atop her, barely giving her the chance to breathe before he resumed kissing her into oblivion. Her hands drew up the hem of his shirt but he wasn't thinking clearly enough to discard it, focusing instead on his right hand as it ran down her side, then along her stomach, slipping gently up her shirt, making her tremble slightly as she broke away for desperately needed air.

"Bucky," he heard her call barely above a whisper, and though he looked down at her, he didn't decipher the slight uncertainty starting to grow on her face. Instead, he kissed her again, and he let his left hand brush some of her hair from her face as he did.

She shivered a bit from the coldness of the hand, and he only let it linger for a moment before he began to draw it away, but he made the mistake of looking down at it, and that was enough to drastically alter the course of the night.

His metal thumb had just barely grazed the side of her neck, and when he saw it happen, his brain flickered similarly to the hologram he disguised his hand with in public. His movements stopped, his eyes lost focus, and he was no longer watching himself touch a woman that he had grown to care for. Instead, he was watching himself crush the throat of a very different woman.

The flashback had no context, and the woman had no identity beyond that of a mere target. The length of the memory was short, only long enough to contain the scream and gurgles of the woman as he killed her with just his hand, and the look of horror in her eyes as the life had left them.

His head split with pain, a fog descended, and he lost track of what was real and what was not. Everything blurred together, and for a few moments, he simply was not there.

The next thing he knew, he was crouched at the foot of the bed, blinking as he suddenly came back to reality, gasping for air as if he'd just broke water's surface, and Summer was in front of him, though at a safe distance, watching him with slightly fearful and very concerned expression.

He stared at her without seeing her. His mind was trying to bridge the giant gaps between the throes of passion, the flashback, and where he was now, but the pieces were all jagged and ill-fitting, like parts of them were missing and preventing him from comprehending what had just happened. He couldn't remember leaving her, getting off of her, and curling up the way that he currently was, and one horrible thought managed to break through the haze and lingering head pain enough for him to focus on Summer and get a string of words out.

"Did I hurt you?"

His own voice sounded small and pathetic to his own ears. To his relief, she shook her head. "No, you didn't, not at all. One minute you were... fine, and the next you were just staring and then you got away from me so fast I thought I'd done something wrong."

At least he hadn't lost himself to the point of reliving the flashback and hurting her, or killing her, in the process, but he still could not breathe evenly and the fire that had been coursing through his veins only moments ago had been replaced with pure, unyielding ice. She was fine this time, but maybe next time she wouldn't be. And she would be so terribly easy to kill and defenseless if this scenario ever repeated itself.

"You should go," he muttered.

"But... I'm fine, I just... is there anything I can do to help?"

He shook his head, wishing she would just leave so he could stew in disappointment and self-loathing in solitude.

He stared at the floor as she got up, and he didn't look up when she spoke again. "That was a little too much for me too, just so you know. Which wasn't your fault. It's a long story. But... I don't know, I guess we should cool it a little bit."

Then her face entered his line of vision, and he controlled the urge to shove her away by refusing to meet her eyes instead. "Hey. It's okay. I'm okay."

It took her longer to leave since he refused to acknowledge her, but eventually she left his room, leaving him to sit and not move as he stared ahead and let the encroaching shadows of his mind take him over, knowing he could only fight it off for so long anyway.

* * *

After texting Steve almost immediately, Summer sat in the living room and resolved not to go until Steve was back. Bucky being alone in the apartment wasn't an option. She just wished that she'd had the brainpower to slam on the brakes a bit when it was obvious that Bucky was losing himself to the point of danger in the midst of his... fervor. Better yet, she should have made him slow down after he'd tossed her on his bed, because she owed it to both of them to be honest about what she was and wasn't ready for.

He just had an ability to scramble her brain and leave her to think of these things a little too late. She wasn't used to this. At all.

So she waited, sitting uneasily on the couch, blaming herself for the whole thing and, despite her best efforts, thinking back to the dream that she had started the day with.

In her opinion, If anything, tonight only proved that the dream really was as stupid as she had originally thought. The fear in his eyes when he'd asked if he had hurt her was enough to break her heart. But he hadn't hurt her. He had jumped off of her long before he could have. And even if he had, she would have forgiven him, because certain realities came with caring for a damaged, tortured ex-POW with severe PTSD, and in the end, despite all of the other horrors, that was what he was.

She would just have to learn better ways of helping him, and for now, save the clothes-ripping and ravaging for later, when they were both better able to handle it. Until then, maybe it was best to simply do all that she could to help him avoid sinking into that familiar despair that she knew he was deep within inside of his room.

**A/N #2: I just noticed how this chapter is an angst sandwich with fluff in the middle. Sort of. ANYWAY. THANK YOU to all of you wonderful reviewers, followers, &amp; readers for reading the story that set this one up and continuing along to this one :D I love you all and I am super grateful for the response to the first chapter. As always, let me know what you all think, and I'll see you next week! :D**


	3. Chapter 3

He was tired. He was angry. He wanted to be alone with his frustration, not sitting in front of an old grandpa of a doctor in the back of a closed butcher shop. But, that was what he did twice a week, Wednesdays and Fridays at 9 AM, because somehow doing this was supposed to help him "get better".

After initially resisting and refusing to speak at all during the sessions, eventually Bucky had begun to actually participate and allow the doctor to do his job. The man had treated others who had suffered somewhat similar situations as he, or at least that's what Steve told him, and though Bucky was highly wary at first, Steve vouched for the doctor's trustworthiness.

But today, he wanted nothing to do with any of it.

"You seem a bit more on edge today than usual," Dr. Connor observed from behind the old desk that separated them. He was in his 70's and had half a head of thin white hair, and kind, wrinkled brown eyes that made it hard to believe that he had been in SHIELD's service for nearly five decades. "Would you like to share what's on your mind?"

He shook his head, though only barely, not wanting to even give that much effort.

"Well, that makes my job a bit hard to do." The doctor paused, then asked, "Have you recalled any new memories since our last session?"

He ignored the question, staring at the desk like it was the center of his very existence.

"Something has clearly taken place since last Friday. I cannot help you sort it if you don't tell me, Sergeant."

"Don't call me that," he snapped, instantly wincing for breaking his silence.

"Forgive me," Dr. Connor nodded. "Mr. Barnes. If you would like, I'll give you as much time as you need to decide if you would like to talk or not. If you do not, that's fine. We'll pick back up on Friday."

It was almost annoying how accommodating the doctor was. It was strange and went against every memory that Bucky had of doctors. He remembered men and occasionally women in white coats poking and prodding him and wrestling him into submission, not speaking softly and smiling and never pushing him into anything he didn't want to do. Sometimes he wondered if the old man was actually a doctor or just someone Steve was paying to be nice to him.

He sat in silence for ten more minutes before he eventually caved and opened his mouth, prepared to receive a scolding that would probably send him marching out of the makeshift office in a rage never to return again.

"The girl that I lived with is here. She's visiting."

The doctor's eyebrows rose and he gave a small, friendly smile. "Oh! That is good to hear. And how is the visit coming along?"

"It was going fine."

"Was? Did something happen?"

He sighed lightly and decided to just come out with the full story for the first time. Might as well, because the sooner he got the doctor's reaction, the sooner he could decide to storm out or not, depending on his reaction. "When I lived with her, there was a couple times that... things happened."

"Okay. What sort of things?"

There was only a brief pause before he answered, "I kissed her a few times." Technically she had kissed him first, and had initiated plenty of the others, but it seemed somehow more proper to ascribe the responsibility to himself.

The doctor nodded neutrally. "I see."

"And I took her on a date Monday."

"A date. All right. And how did that go?"

He had expected a long, heavy sigh or a tone of disappointment, followed by the aforementioned scolding, but the doctor seemed to take this in stride. How odd. "Great."

"Okay. Then that can't be what has you on edge."

His jaw tightened. He hadn't planned on getting this far into the story before leaving. "She... I had a flashback while we were..." He trailed off, slightly unsure of how to describe exactly what their current state had been. The whole thing was a bit fuzzy, which made him angry on a whole other level.

"Intimate?" the doctor guessed, still no trace of judgment in his tone.

"No." He paused. Although what did that mean exactly? "I don't know. She was... we were in my bed but we weren't..."

Dr. Connor nodded. "I understand. Tell me about the flashback."

His expression darkened. "I touched her neck and it made me remember some woman. I don't know who she was. I was crushing her throat and watching her die."

"I see. Did you lash out during this flashback? Did you harm her or yourself?"

He shook his head. "I don't remember it but she said I got away from her before anything could happen."

"That is good. What happened next?"

"I told her to leave. Slept for maybe a hour before I came here."

The doctor nodded, folding his hands on the desk and leaning forward as he said, "We need to address your sleep later, but first, I want to point out to you the positive side of what happened. You were in a vulnerable position, had a very violent flashback, and your instincts kept you from harming her or yourself. This is very good."

Bucky scoffed; he couldn't help it. He crossed his arms and shook his head. "You don't get it."

"Then explain it to me."

"For once I..." he paused for a moment, unsure of how to word his thoughts. "I felt... a lot. I'm feeling a lot. But it doesn't matter because even when I'm not thinking, the flashbacks still happen, and I can't get away from it. And I'm gonna hurt her. I know I will."

"And what exactly are you feeling?"

Bucky was slightly annoyed by the question, but he answered anyway. "Like I'm actually alive."

"Lust?"

The word seemed too cheap somehow, but he shrugged. The doctor then went on, "I imagine that this is a very significant development for you. But this is as much a part of your recovery as learning to eat and drink again was. You are a human being, you're a man - you are no longer being drugged and trained in ways that take that away. So this is very healthy and positive. It will probably be overwhelming for awhile, until you get used to having these feelings again."

Bucky stared in slight disbelief. Positive?

"Now, let me ask you a few questions. First of all, do you care for the girl?"

He nodded without hesitation. Caring was a simple thing. The word didn't spark panic or a fit.

"Good. And she is aware fully of your history?"

He hesitated. What exactly did she know? "Not all the details." Even Steve didn't know those. Bucky himself didn't either.

"But she knows about HYDRA, the brainwashing, etcetera?" Bucky nodded. "Good, good. Now I can tell by the look on your face that you expected me to disapprove of this relationship, but I want to remind you that I am not here to judge or dictate your choices. Your life is your own and your decisions are your own. My job is only to help you put the pieces back together and give you the tools you need to fully reclaim your life. My advice is just that: advice. You can choose to listen or to ignore it. And I won't think any less of you or treat you different either way."

Though it was not the first time that Bucky had heard the man say such things, it was still a strange concept to comprehend. When he had left Summer's home to live with Steve, he had assumed that he would be surrounded by people trying to control him for "his own good" and that it would be a constant struggle, but instead, everyone seemed to want him to make his own choices. Natasha was one possible exception, but she was irrelevant as far as he was concerned.

"Now, as far as this relationship, how would you describe it currently?"

At this, he drew a very large blank. "Uh..."

"Do you plan to date her more?"

His expression worsened again and he muttered, "I don't know. She's only here for a week. And I..."

"Yes?"

"I don't want to hurt her," he said through slightly gritted teeth.

"Well, that is a concern," Dr. Connor agreed, "but I don't think it needs to be an obstacle. And as far as the distance, perhaps that is best for now. It's easier to take things very slowly when there is no choice but to do so."

"I'll hurt her eventually. I've hurt Steve."

"You've hurt Steve when he has woken you from nightmares and when you were dissociated," the doctor pointed out. "If the two of you use certain precautionary measures, I could reasonably believe that she would be safe. But, I also have to tell you that, in my opinion, physical intimacy should wait at least until you've finally accepted that arm of yours."

Bucky furrowed his brows and stared at the doctor. "What?"

"Until you accept that the prosthesis is as much a part of you as your other arm, you will not have the sort of control over it or your actions for that to be safe, I believe."

As he was fairly sure that he would go to his eventual grave still despising the arm and hating everything it represented, he assumed that taking this particular piece of advice would mean also going to his grave celibate, which wasn't a very attractive option given the fact that it had taken him seven decades to get his desires back in the first place.

"And the flashbacks are a concern as well. Steve is durable and can handle you when you're not in your right mind, but I can safely assume that this woman cannot. And your flashbacks are very unpredictable and erratic in their triggering."

That much was obvious. Maybe it was hopeless, doomed from the start, and all because of him.

"Don't mistake my meaning," the doctor added. "These are concerns, but I think that this relationship could be good for you, so long as you both approach it realistically and slowly. And cautiously. I cannot emphasize this enough."

_Caution_. He hadn't used a lot of that when he'd thrown Summer on his bed the night before.

"What you both need to know and always keep in mind is that a relationship will not be easy, and you have a long recovery ahead of you. This is only the beginning. She needs to know what she's getting into, and you need to be as patient as you can and accept that setbacks will happen. They will - the trick is to learn from them and not let them derail the process you make."

The doctor made sense, to Bucky's slight chagrin. The problem was, he had a hard time believing that, distance or not, Summer would stick around for any significant period of time when he was such a mess. She might like him now, for some reason, but if he couldn't accept himself, how could she ever be content with him? There was a world full of men out there that she could pick from instead, and surely, in time, she would. A part of him still thought it absurd to even be thinking about any of this in a serious way.

"What do you think?"

Bucky frowned at this question, eventually answering, "I don't know."

"Well, there's no rush. Take your time and talk to her, have an honest conversation about the realities you'll both face. Then tell me about it on Friday."

Dr. Connor then smiled, and Bucky merely sighed and looked away. If he'd just had a shred of self-control the night before...

"Now, let's talk about your sleep."

His jaw tightened again. This conversation would be even less pleasant than the last one.

* * *

If being stared down and mentally undressed by Bucky made her squirm uncontrollably, then being analyzed and observed by Natasha made Summer want to hide behind Steve's couch with David. At least he had the good sense to be avoiding the woman at all costs.

It was moments like these that made her doubt her sudden place in this world of Avengers and spies and women with red hair who were shorter than her but still managed to scare the ever-living crap out of her. But she did her best to not let it show, sipping coffee while trying to pretend that the woman didn't exist, which was hard to do when she was sitting directly across from her at a rather small table.

Steve clearing his throat to her left thankfully gave her something else to focus on, looking up at him as he stood by the table with his hands on his hips. "It's been an hour, so I'm gonna go pick him up now."

Her eyes widened fractionally, silently begging him not to leave her with Natasha. It wasn't that she actually feared for her safety, but she did have her limits when it came to the levels of intimidation that she could handle for prolonged periods of time.

Steve paused for a moment, then glanced at Natasha and began, "Do you want to come with me or -"

"No, I'm good here. I don't get many chances for girl talk," she shrugged, and internally, Summer wanted to sink to the floor and disappear.

"... Okay," Steve replied, giving Summer a quick look that said _I tried_, and she smiled weakly in response. He really was ridiculously nice. "Be back in twenty or so."

And then, in a moment, he was gone, and it was back to trying to appear nonchalant as Natasha leaned back in her chair and resumed her casual staring. Summer wasn't sure that she could take twenty minutes of this.

"So," Natasha finally spoke. "I hear that - ow!"

A tiny plastic Loki action figure struck an inch away from Natasha's left eye, and both women's eyes snapped towards the living room to see David leap behind the couch.

"Sorry," Summer half-smiled, leaving her seat briefly to grab the toy. Then she looked at the couch and called out, "David! No throwing! Especially no throwing things at people!"

She glanced back at Natasha to find her unscathed, of course, but a little bit annoyed, and Summer was having a hard time not laughing. "He's not really used to being around other people," she shrugged.

"I'll survive," Natasha replied dismissively. "Which is more than I can say for you."

And there it was. Summer sighed, gathering up her courage and replying, "Look, I can tell by now that you don't like me, but..."

"It's not that I don't like you," Natasha shrugged. "Barnes thinks I hate him too, but I don't. Though I have reason to. It's not as simple as that."

Summer swallowed and looked around the room. "Um..."

"Most of us had no choice but to be a part of all of this. Some of us got thrust in out of nowhere, some of us - like Barnes - were forced, and some of us have been doing this since we were kids and don't know anything else," Natasha said, impressively emotionless as she said this. "All of us have been through enough in the last five years to want nothing more but go disappear on an island somewhere and not come back for a very long time. I'm sure that to you, there's a sense of intrigue and maybe even glamour -"

"Are you kidding me?" Summer interrupted, shocked with herself that she actually spoke but unable to let that one slip by. "There is nothing glamorous about a half-dead guy with a robot arm puking on your kitchen floor and screaming all night every night for a month. This has all been super weird since the day I met him but there's never been one time that I thought it was cool or 'glamorous'."

"So it's pity, then," Natasha surmised.

"No," Summer shook her head. "He would probably throw me out a window if I ever acted like I pitied him."

Natasha paused, then switched tactics. "How much do you know of his past?"

Summer paused, wishing for a way out of the conversation, afraid of where it was headed. "I read some of his files before they were pulled from the Internet. I know enough."

"And you feel safe bringing your five year old boy around him as if he was just an average guy off the street?"

"He saved our lives in Virginia," Summer replied, about to get genuinely pissed off.

"And who put them in danger?" Natasha half-smiled. Summer scowled, but she went on. "It won't be an isolated incident. He wants to help us go after HYDRA. He's not going to get an office job somewhere and live a normal life. His normal is nothing like yours. His normal is hunting and fighting and death."

"I know," Summer muttered irritably.

"Then why are you here?" Natasha asked bluntly.

To her frustration, Summer found herself at a loss for words. And it was a bad moment to draw a blank.

She looked up at Natasha, who looked far too satisfied with herself. Summer felt like all of her uncertainties and foolishness had just been yanked out of her and put on display for all the world to see. And instead of making her want to crawl under the table and hide, it was making her angry.

"I'm here because I care," she answered honestly. "I fed him and clothed him and took care of him for a month, and I know how hard it is for him to just get through the day."

"And you think you can help him?"

"No," Summer answered somewhat honestly. "Maybe. I don't know. But I really don't see why I need to defend myself to you."

"You don't," Natasha shrugged.

"Then why are you asking me all of this?" Summer asked a little desperately.

"Because I don't have the same blinders on that Steve does," Natasha replied. "He can't help it. He looks at Barnes and sees a sick best friend who needs his help. I, on the other hand, see the man who managed to shoot me twice and almost killed two people who are important to me."

"That's all you see?" Summer asked, shuddering a little at the thing about being shot twice. No wonder they didn't seem to get along.

"No. I happen to have a very good personal understanding of what HYDRA did to him. And Steve's not the only one who's had to fight a brainwashed friend. I'm actually very sympathetic to what Barnes has been through. But I also happen to be a realist."

Summer sighed and glanced behind her, checking on David, who was still hiding behind the couch and currently planning another toy launch attack. She turned back to the other woman and replied, "I'm not an idiot."

"I never said you were. But you have the choice to either live a normal life outside of this chaos or dive head first into it. And once you dive in, there's no getting out. I can guarantee you that."

Suddenly feeling as if the conversation had far surpassed what her actual reality was, Summer replied, "I'm only here for a week. I don't think that really qualifies as 'diving in'."

"And if Steve asks you to move here?"

Summer's eyes widened. "What?"

"Hypothetically," Natasha clarified. "Let's say he got you a job up here and asked you to move here for the sake of his friend. Would you say no?"

"I... I don't know," Summer half-stuttered. "David's... I don't think I could do that because of him. And I don't think Steve would ask me to do that."

Natasha smiled slightly and replied, "You don't know him very well yet. Steve would do anything for him. And if he thinks that keeping you around helps him, he'll figure out a way to make you say yes."

Summer couldn't think about that. Just the very concept made her head spin.

"My point is," Natasha said after a moment, "you have a choice, which is something that most of us never get. Don't take it lightly."

Summer didn't respond, looking across the table to the other woman with lingering irritation that was fading under the truth of what she was saying. But, she was quick to remind herself that she was not moving to New York, that this was only a visit, and Natasha had to be greatly overestimating her role in Bucky's life. But that thought wasn't as comforting as it should have been.

Then a toy helicarrier flew through the air and would have hit Natasha's forehead if she hadn't caught it first, and Summer whipped around in her chair. "David! Stop it! One more time and I'll take you back to the hotel and you won't get any time with Captain America today!"

After ascribing that sentence to her mental list of things she never thought she would say, she turned back around to find Natasha holding the helicarrier and examining it with a critical eye. "Very inaccurate. Not as bad as the Loki one, though."

After a moment or two, Summer plucked up the nerve to ask a question. "What would you do? If you were me."

Natasha grinned and replied, "I'm not sure that you should be putting much stock into that answer. I'm not exactly a role model."

Before Summer could ask for the answer anyway, the front door unlocked, and the conversation ended as Steve and Bucky walked inside, wearing their brilliant incognito looks consisting of hats and little else in the way of disguises. Bucky walked in second, briefly meeting her eyes before looking away. She felt a spark of anxiety, hoping that the prior night's events hadn't affected him too badly.

She glanced back at Natasha, who looked perfectly neutral as Steve dropped his keys on the counter and smiled at them both. Bucky walked to his room without a word to anyone.

"Girl talk go well?" Steve asked, making Natasha give him a wry grin.

"Yeah, it was fun," she answered while Summer looked to the hallway with slight worry.

"I'm sure," Steve replied, grinning back and clearly not believing her. Then he turned to Summer and said quietly, "He's fine. He said he wanted to talk to you when we got back. You can leave David out here."

"Oh. Okay," she replied, definitely anxious now. She got up from the table, feeling Natasha's eyes on her and ignoring her as she gave Steve a smile and then made a pit stop to peer behind the couch, remind David to not launch any more surprise attacks against the scary lady, then turned and headed down the hallway.

His door was left cracked open, so when she reached it, she knocked softly on it before pushing it open. The room was illuminated softly by sunlight through its lone window, and he was sitting at the foot of his unmade bed, his head raising up when she stepped into view. She smiled softly at him and then debated for a moment what to do with the door, leave it slightly open or close it. In the end, she shut it and turned back towards Bucky, who was still watching her.

"How was therapy?" she asked, her tone light without overdoing it, walking to the bed and sitting at his left.

He looked at his hands in his lap and replied quietly, "Same as usual."

Though she didn't know what the usual was, she nodded anyway. "I'm glad you're doing it. It helps. I know."

He turned his gaze on her, and a few seconds passed before he looked down again and said, "I told him about you."

"You hadn't before?"

"Not... everything," he replied, and she understood.

"Oh. So what did he have to say?" she asked, anxiety suddenly blooming anew. This was probably the point where he would tell her to go home because he had enough to deal with, which she wouldn't be able to argue with even if she tried to.

"He said it could be a good thing," he replied, voice still small and tone unsure, like he thought speaking the words out loud were strange. "But to be cautious and... slow. And that long distance might be a good thing."

She blinked a few times, having to briefly process a few things - first, that a therapist would approve of them dating in any capacity, and second, that Bucky was talking about a long distance relationship. It was a big jump from one date and a handful of kisses to that. And third, how could distance ever be a good thing?

"Wow," she eventually replied, while he had been watching her and waiting for a reaction. "Okay."

He studied her for a moment, then said, "And by slow I mean... slow."

His eyes flickered to the rest of the bed behind them, and she nodded. "I know. That's all right. That's better for me, too." Better, maybe, but not easy. Then her tone became slightly disbelieving as she asked, "You really want to do the long distance thing?"

His brows furrowed and he stared off for a moment. "I'd rather you be here."

"I can't," she said softly. "I mean, I could think about it, but... I don't know how I could." She watched him nod absently before she furrowed her brows and asked, "You really like me enough for this?"

He turned and looked at her as he had quite a few times before, like she had just asked him the stupidest question he'd ever heard. She resorted to her default mode and started babbling. "It's just that I've only been here for a few days and you only lived with me a month before, and most of that time we didn't even talk that much, and... this is not how I imagined this trip going, not that I'm complaining, it's just -"

Her heart nearly stopped when a tiny, amused grin showed up on his face in the midst of her rambling, and it did stop when he shut her up by pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. Eventually, she knew that she would have to stop falling apart every time he touched her, but such an idea seemed impossible, even when the kiss was short and sweet and ended with him drawing away before she wanted him to.

A short silence passed as he looked down and gathered his words. "The problem is that I could kill you without really trying, without knowing what I'm doing. And after last night, I..."

After he trailed off, she replied, "I know. But I'm okay. You didn't hurt me. And I know when to leave you alone. I hated hearing you scream in your sleep before but I knew better than to try to wake you up."

"It's more than just that," he replied quietly.

She studied him for a moment, then said, "Then we'll figure it out. I'm not all bright and shiny either, you know." He met her gaze once more, and she added, "And I know what I'm getting into."

"You really don't," he muttered. "You only know what you've read."

It was true. She had offered to listen many times, but he had always refrained from telling her anything of his dreams or memories, and as a result, she could only guess what made him stare off into space or turn away from her.

"Okay," she said. "Then let's change that. Can you tell me what happened last night? What you saw?" His jaw tightening told her that he was not a fan of this idea, but then she reasoned, "I already know that you've killed a lot of people. I know that most of them were good guys. You're not gonna shock me."

She almost told him never mind as she watched him fight with himself, clearly not wanting to tell her, and she didn't want him to do anything he didn't want to do. But before she could tell him, he finally spoke.

"I was killing someone. Crushed her throat, watched her die. I don't know who she was."

She had imagined that it was something like that, since she'd lost him when he started staring at his metal hand when it had touched her neck. Though it was jarring and terrifying and horrible, the slight tremble in his voice and disgust etched on his face would not belong to a man who had willfully done those things.

She drew him out of his sudden dark state by placing her palm over the back of his hand closest to hers, his metal one, and he looked down at it before looking up at her. "See? Didn't scare me away."

"It should," he muttered.

She then made a decision. Since, if they went through with trying to make this an actual relationship, then chances were, this was going to come up a lot. Given that he was struggling to accept what all he had done, he would naturally view everything through guilt-tinted lenses, and think her better off without him or that she would be right to fear him. Best to state her stance on the issue and do everything she could to put it to rest.

"Look," she began, "if you try to do this thing where you tell me that I shouldn't like you or that I should be afraid of you or that I'd be better off without you, it's gonna eventually start pissing me off. Are you forcing me into this?" He shook his head. "Have you ever forced me into doing anything I didn't want to do?" He shook his head again. "I'm here because I want to be. I know who you are and what you've done. And I choose to be here anyway. So... respect my decision, okay?"

He stared at her in slight bewilderment, and she felt a bit tingly following her proclamation, but she couldn't help herself. Between Natasha's warnings and Bucky's self-loathing, she didn't want to be mistaken for someone being taken advantage of or ignorant to the reality of it all.

Eventually, Bucky nodded, and Summer started wondering about all the implications of what they were doing being official and over a long distance. Bucky would need a phone of his own. She would need to tell Paul about him a lot sooner than she had originally planned. And this meant that her personal boycott of boyfriends for David's sake was over. That had the farthest reaching consequences of anything.

"This is a big deal for me," Summer said. "I haven't dated in five years because I didn't want David getting confused or attached to guys who wouldn't stick around. So... you're serious about this, right?"

He nodded, his expression serious, and she thought for a moment before asking, "Are you sure you don't want to, like, try meeting other people first? See what else is out there? Make sure there isn't someone you like better? Especially since I'm gonna be in Virginia and you... you know..."

The look that he gave her told her that he found that idea to be nothing short of horrific. She smiled a little at his aghast reaction and tried to explain, "It's just that, you know, I know it's been a long time for you, and you're a guy and you have..." she trailed off and then realized that she was making a rather naive assumption. She turned to him and asked, "Has it been a long time? I've just been assuming all this time that you probably didn't have the time or chance to..."

"It's been a long time," he confirmed, not quite meeting her eyes as he said this.

She nodded. "Okay. Just checking. For all I knew you were surrounded by a bunch of super hot Natashas on missions."

The way that he spoke his next few sentences told her that he found them utterly embarrassing. "Wouldn't have mattered if I was. They gave me drugs that... prevented distractions."

Was it not bad enough to take someone and brainwash them into fighting against the side they died for? Did they have to erase everything that made him a human being? She thought for a moment of what to say, but expressing how terrible it was wouldn't help him and it would be stating the obvious. She ended up settling on a semi-positive statement. "Well, at least that's over." Then she smiled a little bit. "Clearly."

His eyes met hers again, and she glanced down at their still-joined hands and added, "And if it helps at all, I haven't done much better. There was the time I got pregnant, which doesn't actually count, and besides that," she shrugged to end the statement, trying not to cringe a little as she mentioned that.

When she looked up, he was staring at her in disbelief. "Never?"

There was no point in fighting the blush engulfing her cheeks. "Nope. I mean, I did my share of fooling around in high school, but that's it," she said, feeling her face get hotter by the second. Then she forced out a smile and quipped, "Aren't we a pair?"

He didn't smile back. She let her smile fade as she watched his expression go ever darker as he let his gaze wander to the wall. After awhile, he muttered very quietly, "I'm scared of hurting you."

The honesty in his tone made her chest feel tight. She laced her fingers through his metal ones and she replied, "I'm a little scared of that too. But I'm not scared of you. Does that make sense?"

He looked at her and replied with an exhale that was almost a chuckle, "No."

She smiled and looked down at their hands, shaking her head as she explained, "I guess I mean that I know that if you do hurt me someday, it won't be because you wanted to or meant to."

"That won't matter if you're dead. Or in a coma. Or... if I just hold you a little too tightly and break your arm or -"

This time, it was her turn to grab his face with her free hand and silence him with a kiss. She caught him completely off guard, but he quickly recovered and kissed her back, enough to make her lose her breath and have to pull away a moment later. She smiled and looked up into his eyes, finding them a little heavier-lidded than they were a moment ago. "I've always wanted to do that. And the dresser thing from last night too. I know it didn't end very well, but..."

He stared at her briefly before blinking and replying, "I barely knew what I was doing, I was just..."

"... Yeah, me too," she smiled again, ready to dump ice on her face to put out the cursed and seemingly permanent blush there. "But I guess that can't happen again for... awhile."

He nodded, eyes on her lips, and she wondered if he was even hearing what she was saying. "Slow," he muttered, and she nodded, guessing that he had heard after all, and then his mouth was on hers and she was falling apart all over again.

He started at a lighter, less intense pace, and she reminded herself to not get carried away and lose her head, but that flew out the window at the first slide of his tongue against hers. She let out a sound that instantly embarrassed her, and he shuddered a little when the sound reached his ears, and then it all became a pleasant blur of lips and hands and her blood pumping so loudly that she was sure that he had to be able to hear it.

His left hand was planted on the bed, as far from her as possible on purpose, and that left his other hand to make up the difference, starting at her hair and then sliding to her shoulder, moving down until it gripped her waist while their kisses grew to breathless, rapt messes. He groaned into her mouth when her nails gently scratched against the nape of his neck, and the sound made her suddenly open her eyes and tear her lips away from his.

"Slow," she reminded him in a pathetic voice, gasping, though he had already moved on to her neck, and she wasn't exactly discouraging him by holding him here.

"Slow," he repeated, and the thrum of his voice against her skin between kisses sent a chill down her spine and almost made her brain check out again.

"I don't think... I... Bucky," she half-whined, closing her eyes and quickly losing her will to protest as she felt his breath against her ear.

"Summer," he replied, low and hot in her ear, sending a jolt through her at lightning speed and making her all but jump away from him.

"Okay," she smiled, face on fire, holding him back by his shoulders, "you can't do things like that or else I'll end up... I'll just..."

"You'll what?" he asked, breathing through parted lips and looking at her like he was on the verge of devouring her again.

"Combust," she smiled, "or jump you and completely go against your therapist's advice."

He nodded, then grabbed the back of her head and brought her lips back to his, and she melted against him again, only having so much self control and needing to take what she could get for now. She'd gone so long without anything like this, without passion and without touch, and she would be satisfied with just this - at least, that's what she told herself.

She gasped a little when she felt his teeth nip at her bottom lip, and as it left her back on the brink of losing it, she pulled away panting again, opening her eyes to find his burning into hers before being distracted by her heaving, apparently eye-catching, chest. It reminded her of sitting in front of him on her bed back home, shell-shocked and wearing a shirt that he'd torn in two for completely non-sexy purposes, except this time, he didn't stare with underlying embarrassment and awkwardness, but more like he had every right to look and was slightly annoyed that her shirt was intact this time.

Smiling a little, she placed her finger under his chin and lifted his head, bringing his eyes back to hers before she leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Her skin was tingling and she wished that she could just lay back and tell him to do what he wished, but it was for his sake as much as her own that she ignored the voice in her head telling her to do exactly that. She then kissed his jaw and laid her head on his shoulder, her nose lightly touching his neck, and she breathed him in as he eventually brought his right hand to rest on her back.

While her breathing slowly returned to a semblance of normal, a thought rattling around her brain made its way out of her lips. "Any chance of a translation yet?" She would ask him every day until he finally gave in and spilled.

She heard a puff of air leave his nose, then a few seconds passed before he murmured, "Counterproductive."

"To what?"

"Waiting."

She sighed, stifling a groan. "Would begging change your mind?"

"No."

"Would... never mind," she shook her head, not even sure _what_ had just gone through her head but pretty sure that she didn't want to voice it. She straightened up and looked from his lips to his eyes before giving him a small, sweet kiss, then slowly standing up from the bed.

"I'm gonna... go... do something," she said, running her hands through her hair, glancing down at Bucky and finding his eyes glued to her. "Maybe get some air, or stick my head inside your freezer and scream. I don't know. I'm just gonna shut up. But you should come with me."

He nodded, right hand in his own hair as he muttered, "Yeah, just... give me a minute."

She nodded, turning around and biting her lip to keep from smiling, glancing back at him when she reached his door. Was it cruel to take just the tiniest, most minute bit of satisfaction in his frustration, only because she still found it kind of thrilling that she could cause that in him in the first place?

He looked up at her, narrowing his eyes a little at her lingering smile, but it only grew bigger.

It was ridiculous. The entire situation. And yet, as she watched him glare a little at her, this relic from her grandmother's generation who was as damaged as she was an awkward and forever bumbling fool, she was pretty sure that it would all never stop being surreal.

"What?" he asked, finally, clearly thoroughly annoyed with her grin.

She shook her head, turning towards the door and twisting the knob, and as she left the room, she muttered to herself, "You're so hot you make me want to die."

While any normal man with normal hearing would not have been able to pick up what she said, Bucky did, and after she closed the door, he furrowed his brows for a moment, processing those words. Then glanced down at the floor and grinned a little, his lack of being well-versed on modern vernacular not hindering his ability to understand and appreciate the sentiment.

* * *

The days were passing by quickly, Bucky began to notice as he walked Summer and her boy back to their hotel after night had fallen. It was a strange feeling, wondering where the whole day had gone, and wondering what he would do once she was gone again.

Of course, he knew what he'd do. He would just pick up where he'd left off before, and one of his few pleasant distractions would be gone. He'd miss her again.

"Back to the deep thought face," he heard from his right side. He turned his head to see her smile at him as they walked quietly down the sidewalk. "I'm not complaining. Your profile is... it's good."

He would have smiled a little at the slight fumbling of her words, but something wasn't right, and it was setting his nerves on edge. It had been that way since they left the apartment, and at first he tried to shake it off, but the feeling wouldn't leave.

There were fellow pedestrians, as there always was, but one in particular had his gut feeling inching closer and closer to something bad. It was someone dressed similar to him, nondescript and with a hat, almost far enough behind them that he could barely see the figure. It was a short walk to the hotel, but it felt longer than usual the less at ease that he felt.

"You're making me nervous looking back every five seconds."

He glanced at Summer, finding her eyeing him a bit warily. He didn't reply, looking back again instead, and this time, the suspicious figure was gone.

He furrowed his brows, steps slowing as he looked around, taking note of everything that wasn't right. Suddenly all the other pedestrians were gone, and just ahead was an alleyway that marked the halfway point to the hotel.

He stopped walking. Summer did too, and David looked up at them both curiously.

He wasn't thinking at this point. He was operating on his sharpest, most well-developed instincts, which in his case, was far more reliable than his thinking.

Without looking at Summer, he said quietly, "Get your taser out and take cover behind a car."

To her credit, she did not panic or start asking him questions about why and what was happening. She only gaped at him for a moment before digging into her purse and then disappearing with David behind a car parked behind them. After, Bucky walked silently towards the alleyway, eyes still darting all around the perimeter, then focusing when he heard a very faint, nearly imperceptible male voice coming from the small space.

He listened, not moving a muscle. The voice grew slowly closer, though he couldn't decipher what it was saying, and when he could tell that the voice's owner was within a close enough distance, he shot forward into the alleyway and grabbed the man by the neck with his metal hand.

The man let out a noisy cry as Bucky shoved him hard against the concrete wall, and Bucky gave him another good slam headfirst before loosening his grip on his neck slightly and narrowing his eyes. The man was big but not too big, dressed exactly as one who would want to blend in would, and there was one way to determine if the man was an operative or not without having to ask a single question. With his right hand, Bucky searched the man's ear for a comm device, and when he found one, he dropped it to the ground and crunched it under his boot as he glared at the man.

"Who are you?" he growled, noting that the man was making no move to fight back - in fact, he looked absolutely terrified.

"You know," he replied in a choke, barely breathing under Bucky's grip.

Bucky winced and shoved him against the wall again, finding little satisfaction in the sound of the man's skull cracking. "How did you find me?"

"You... you think we ever lost you..."

In the brief moment that Bucky's head clouded with anger, the man produced a knife and tried to drive it into his side; Bucky released his chokehold and grabbed the knife before it could reach him, blade-first with his left hand, and while it could do no damage to the metal, it shorted out the holographic cover on it, leaving it useless and exposing the hand. A knee to the man's groin later, Bucky ripped the blade out of his grip and flipped it in the air, catching it by the handle and then pressing it to the man's throat as his eyes grew wide with fear.

"How many others?" Bucky demanded, but the man shut both his mouth and his eyes. In fact, he had seemed oddly resigned to his fate the moment Bucky grabbed him, like he thought that he was dead already. Bucky pressed the tip of blade just far enough to let loose a droplet of blood and repeated his demand, but at that moment, a woman's startled cry from the street derailed him.

His head snapped up and a cold shot of dread struck him right in the gut, and without blinking, he punched the man in the head with his metal fist, sending him to the ground unconscious before Bucky raced out to the street. What he saw, he'd later find remarkable.

Summer was on her feet, still behind the car, clutching her taser as its charges shocked a man nearly twice as large as she in the chest, who fell to the ground but not completely. Bucky recognized the figure as the same one that had been tracking them before.

Bucky started after the man, who was only felled by the taser for the briefest of moments before he was back up on his feet and racing away. Bucky's feet wanted to race after him, to grab him and slam his head to the ground a few times before extracting the truth from him, but something stopped him in his tracks as the man disappeared from view. He looked at Summer, still holding her taser and staring at him with wide eyes and breathing hard as her son hid behind her with his hands over his ears, and Bucky instantly abandoned the drive to run.

"Are you okay?" he asked, grabbing her upper arm and drawing her close.

She nodded quickly. "Yeah, I'm fine. He didn't see us at first. He was talking to someone in his ear and I heard him say 'winter' and he was headed for you, so I -"

Bucky nodded. "There might be others. Come on."

She nodded as he let her go, then picked up her son and followed him back to the sidewalk. When they reached the alley, Bucky's anger rekindled when he found it utterly empty.

Clenching his jaw, a part of him wanting nothing more but to track down the other guy despite the fact that a voice louder than any other was screaming to get Summer and her child to safety before anything else. He didn't waste time being torn, however, instead taking her by the arm again and walking them quickly back towards her hotel once more.

Watching their surroundings with an eye sharpened even further by adrenaline and still-burning anger, Bucky looked over his shoulder and shoved his metal hand into his jacket pocket as he scowled out into the dark street and muttered in Summer's ear, "Call Steve."

* * *

While it had not been nearly as traumatic as her last encounter with HYDRA, Summer's hands still shook as she fumbled with her phone to follow Bucky's order and call Steve. David bounced back much more quickly, surprisingly, only letting her hold him for a moment before squirming to be put down after she finally got the call through to Steve, but that was probably because she had been careful to make sure that he didn't see or hear anything during those few moments of fear. Which was a good thing, because she had heard rather clearly the sound of a skull being bashed against a building several times, all the way from the street, and that wasn't something David needed to hear.

Tasering the other guy had been rather similar to shooting the female HYDRA agent who had threatened her son back in Virginia. She had just done it, without thinking twice, then afterwards felt like she'd been watching herself do it rather than actively participate in the event. All in all, the aftermath was more anxiety-riddled than the event itself. It seemed like that was true of any bad thing.

Bucky walked her back to the hotel so fast that she'd had to half-run to keep up with him, and once they were inside and into her room, he talked to Steve on her phone in hushed tones while pacing about the room, making sure that all of the windows were shut and shielded to the world. She watched him as questions started to swirl through her head, doubts and worries making their way to the forefront, along with Natasha's words from earlier that day.

This was indeed Bucky's normal, and she had no idea how long he would be hunted by others. Maybe he always would be, and things like this would be as routine as brushing her teeth in the morning. His skills, his past, his future, his enemies, it was all part of what came with the territory, and she'd never ask him to change. She was even pretty sure that she could accept the risks to herself to stay close to him, but did it make her the world's worst mother to accept the risks to her son?

While Bucky growled on the phone, she tried to stop overthinking as she dug through her stuff to find David a snack. He was acting like their walk back had been nothing short of routine, and she wasn't sure if that was a poor reflection on her or not. Maybe he was just used to hiding and covering his ears by now.

Frowning at her thoughts, she moved around on autopilot, getting David settled in bed with a movie and a drink to go with his snack, then glancing at Bucky as he stood in a corner of the room near the window, back to her, still muttering on her phone. She sighed and wandered off to the bathroom, wishing her leftover jitters away.

By the time she re-emerged, dressed in her more comfortable sleep clothes as if in the hopes that it could make her more comfortable at every level, she found Bucky perched on the edge of her empty bed and David peering at her from under the covers in his own bed, holding a book in his hands that she often read to him at bedtime. She smiled softly at him and then looked at Bucky. "Everything okay?"

His expression was quite unreadable as he replied quietly, "I'm staying here with you tonight. Just in case."

She blinked, then looked back down at David before nodding. "Okay. Um... I just need to get him to sleep, and then..."

Then what? She didn't know, but he nodded and stood up, handing her her phone when he reached her. She took it, then met his eyes as he furrowed his brows slightly and looked as if he was searching for words, but instead he pursed his lips and stepped around her. She watched as he disappeared from the room, no doubt to do some kind of perimeter check, and she sighed before taking David through his usual bedtime routine.

These days, David slept a lot easier than she did. He fell asleep fast and stayed asleep, but her slumber never managed to be quite as peaceful as it had once been. Tonight was no different, as he fell asleep with little fuss, and she laid next to him in the too-small bed, eyes wide open and brain overactive as ever. She waited to hear the door click open and signal Bucky's return, but it never came.

Instead, as she laid there contemplating her recent decisions and what they meant, a brief chill was her only slight warning before she felt a hand gently touch the bare skin of her upper arm. She gasped and shot up with a start, looking up to see Bucky take a step back quickly with his hands up.

"Sorry, I -"

"No, it's okay," she assured him, willing her breathing to calm down if only to put him more at ease. "I didn't hear you come in. I never hear you coming."

She smiled up at him, but his face was set in a stubborn frown. She sighed and crawled out of the bed, making sure David was comfortably covered up first, then rising to her feet and looking around the small room for a moment. It wasn't overly small, and there was a small couch near the kitchenette on the opposite side of the room, but there was no way that Bucky could comfortably smash himself into it to sleep, and for that matter, neither could she.

"Look, you don't have to stay here..."

"Yes I do."

"But... they weren't after us."

Bucky looked at her with slight impatience as he replied, "They've seen you with me twice now. You're a target now, a way to get to me."

She gulped a little, having not expected that. He looked as if he utterly despised himself for speaking those words. "Oh." She swallowed again and then asked, "So... what does that mean?"

"It means that you're in danger until we find them."

Knowing that "we" couldn't refer to that many people, superpowered or not, she asked, "They were HYDRA?" He nodded. "But... if they know where you are, why would they care about me? I'm not -"

He gritted his teeth as he replied, "I'm not taking any chances."

She didn't exactly want to either. After a moment, she muttered, "I guess those agents that hang out in front of my house will be sticking around."

Bucky nodded. "It would be better if you stayed here, so I can keep you safe myself."

The sentiment made her feel a bit warm, but there was no point in entertaining the notion. "You know I can't." She watched his grimace deepen, and as she tried to think of something else to say, the shine of his metal hand at his side caught her eye. "Did something happen to the hologram thing?"

He nodded, reflexively shoving the offending hand into his pocket, saying nothing. She could feel his frustration and agitation, see it in the way that he hid that part of himself from her view despite the fact that she'd never been uncomfortable with it.

Slowly, she reached forward and gently touched his arm with her fingertips, then let them run down until they reached his wrist. Then she carefully drew his hand from his pocket, letting her fingers tangle easy with the hard, cold metal ones, drawing his stare down to their entwined hands. He always stared when she held that hand.

"Remember what I said earlier about respecting my decision?" she asked. He looked up and nodded. "I meant it." Even if she wasn't currently sure if she respected her decision herself. "I know that things like this come with the territory. And I'm not totally useless. I've defended myself pretty well so far, I think."

"You shouldn't have to," he replied, not meeting her eyes and gently detangling their hands before turning to go sit angrily on the tiny couch.

She sighed yet again. Regardless of how genuinely frightened she was about the situation, she couldn't take watching him ascribe all of the blame to himself when she was hardly an unwilling party. But maybe that was something he would just have to adjust to over time, refraining from heaping guilt upon his head for once. She doubted there was little she could do to make it any better.

Seeing no other better options, she walked to the couch and squeezed into the small space of it that he was not occupying. He didn't look up or acknowledge her until, after a moment or two of semi-uneasy silence, she turned towards him and tried to draw his attention by gently letting her fingers run through his hair. He blinked a few times but still wouldn't look up.

"You can have the bed if you want," she said softly, still trailing through his hair. "Like before."

He shook his head. "I won't sleep anyway."

She furrowed her brows and asked, "At all?"

He shrugged lightly. "Not enough to take your bed."

That made her frown. She could only imagine how not sleeping would make the issues he already had that much worse. "Well, the offer stands if you change your mind."

When he still didn't so much as grunt in acknowledgment, she let her hand drop from his hair to his cheek, then gently moved his head to the side so she could lay a small, easy kiss on his lips. After, she pulled away an inch or two and watched as he looked at her lips, then her eyes, but his own eyes were too far away for her to reach. She didn't want to push him, so she simply kissed him again, on his cheek, and told him to try to sleep before getting up.

At first, it was strange, going to bed with him basically standing guard on the other side of the room, but she reminded herself that they had slept only one thin wall apart for a month not too long ago. And, she had to admit after turning off most of the lights and crawling under the covers, she did feel incredibly safe with him there.

Without his presence, she might not have had a hope of turning off her brain and actually falling asleep, but to her surprise, despite the night's disturbing events and her sudden role as a HYDRA semi-target, she fell asleep relatively quickly. If she wished that he could be lying next to her, holding her in a way that she'd never experienced from anyone ever before, she kept that to herself and let the thought fade into the night.

* * *

In a way, he envied her.

Every cell in his body screamed for sleep, but every defense mechanism in his brain fought against it. The exhaustion that followed him faithfully throughout his days was a fair trade off for a lack of nightmares and a lack of new memories of another death at his hands, or at least that's what he told himself. Even if he didn't resist, the most he could manage was still only a couple of hours, so what was the difference?

He wished that he could sleep like her. Just lay down under a mess of sheets and simply shut down, breathe easily, and maybe awake the next morning feeling slightly more alive than dead. It would be a nice feeling. It would be nice to escape, just for a few hours, the constant strain of trying to keep his head clear of everything weighing it down and trying to twist it into knots he couldn't undo.

He had tried various sleeping pills that Dr. Connor had given him during his first month of therapy. The first batch made no difference, being burned up by his metabolism too fast to do a thing. The second helped him fall asleep but not to stay asleep, and it made his dreams more vivid, which was a particularly cruel torture. After that, he lost interest in trying anything else.

Sleep simply wasn't for him. Maybe it would be someday, but that was no comfort to him now. For now, he had very little else to do but sit and think. And what else could he think about but HYDRA?

He told Steve on the phone earlier that he would not accept being sidelined in the hunt for HYDRA anymore, not after tonight, and that he didn't care what Steve or anybody else thought of it. Stable or unstable, whatever the hell either of those terms meant, he had earned the right to oversee their downfall during his years of "service" to them, and if Steve was half the friend he claimed to be, he wouldn't stand in the way of that.

Steve hadn't had much to say to that. Bucky hadn't cared much either way at the time. Maybe, just maybe, if he managed to get his hands on what was left of HYDRA and got to personally watch the remnants go to hell, maybe he would be able to sleep for once.

And in the meantime, if they touched one hair on either of the heads currently asleep in the room with him, that would most likely ensure that sleep would elude him until his dying day.

It was in the midst of these thoughts, a few hours after Summer had fallen asleep, that a muffled sound from her bed drew his attention. He straightened from the uncomfortably reclined position to sit up and look her way. Another moment or so passed before he heard it again, and that was when he got to his feet and started walking towards her bed.

He could see her moving under the sheets, not exactly tossing and turning, more... struggling. He reached the foot of the bed, then walked around to the side, and something in his chest tightened when he saw her start gasping disjointedly, like she was trying to breathe but no air was reaching her lungs. She was curled up into a tight ball, her hand fisting into the pillow under her head, and his hand was on her shoulder before he had a chance to think twice.

He shook her as gently as he could, calling her name softly, but it didn't rouse her. Her breathing became more erratic, and he gave her a firmer shake and said her name more loudly. She stopped for a minute, but only for a minute. His third shake was what woke her.

She sucked in a huge breath and opened wide, confused eyes, shooting up in the bed as he took a step back to avoid her head colliding with his. She looked around, looking from the bed to her lap to Bucky as he knelt beside the bed, feeling a bit clueless as to what to do now. Then relief spread visibly across her features, and her shoulders relaxed and slouched as she lowered her face into her hands.

"I'm sorry," she muttered. "Stupid dream."

He hadn't thought much beyond what he would do once she woke up, so he lingered slightly awkwardly next to the bed as she calmed herself down. After a moment, she raised her head and turned her tired eyes to him, quietly murmuring, "Thank you for waking me up."

He nodded, unsure of what else to do. The exhausted part of him wanted to slump forward on her bed and not move until dawn, but the other part of him led him to stand up and start to head back to the too-small couch.

However, her hand on his stopped him before he could take more than one step away.

"Please don't go. Can you just... can you sit with me?"

He looked down at her, confusion slightly growing on his face. "Sit?"

She let go of his hand and shook her head slightly. "Yeah, I mean... just stay with me for a minute?"

He opened his mouth to say something, though he didn't know what, but nothing came out when he watched her shift slightly to the side to make room for him. Then she looked up at him, a faint neediness in her eyes that he wasn't sure he'd ever seen before, and without another thought, he gave in and slid himself down into the bed.

He was aware of how odd he looked because he felt even weirder, sitting with one foot on the floor and one on the bed because the space was so small, but not a moment passed before she took his arm and led him to lean back against the headboard. He looked at her somewhat questioningly, but she simply dragged the sheets up around her and then curled up to his left side, between his body and his arm.

For a second, he was at an utter loss. If she wanted to do this, why wouldn't she pick his other side, which was considerably softer and probably a lot more comfortable to curl up to, not to mention less obviously dangerous? He held his breath as she laid her head on his chest, right over his heart, and brought her hand up to rest in front of her eyes. His arm hung suspended at his side, angled away from her and awkward as he fumbled with what to do. She exhaled and closed her eyes, and his mind raced with all the horrible things that could happen if she fell asleep like this and he let himself doze off as well.

Her voice interrupted his thoughts, soft and sleepy as she murmured against the shirt under her cheek. "Your heart is racing."

He didn't reply, still keeping his arm away from her. The scent of her hair, so close to his nose, was flooding his senses and taking him back to a time when the scent had been one of the only familiar, comforting things that he encountered on a daily basis. It had the same relaxing, lulling effect that it always had, but he couldn't let it, or the warmth of her as she molded herself to his side, coax him to sleep.

"Bucky?"

He blinked out of his thoughts. "Yeah?"

"Can you wait to get up until I'm back to sleep?"

"Okay," he replied softly, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them again and staring down at her, at the way in which she was half-draped over him. It felt better than he could have imagined.

He felt her relax completely against him when he finally let his left hand come to rest on her back. Her breathing evened out and her sleep returned to her as he let his metal fingers run through the ends of her hair, wishing those fingers could feel it the way that his other ones could.

His eyes grew heavy, but fear of waking from a nightmare and harming her kept him from giving in to the kind of rest that Summer made look so easy in comparison, even if her own sleep wasn't as peaceful as it should have been.

He kept his promise to keep her close until she was sound asleep once more, and he lingered still beyond that. He might not have slept, but her presence and her warmth kept his thoughts calm and more peaceful than they'd been in ages, and he would not dare to not take advantage of that while he could.

**A/N: First let me just say - I LOVE YOU ALL :D I am super grateful for the response to this story and the reviews and feedback you guys have left. I'm generally terrible with answering them individually, but let me say that I am incredibly grateful for each one and I greatly appreciate the time and effort it takes to leave them. So THANK YOU :) I'll see you guys next week, as usual :D **


	4. Chapter 4

During her very eventful week in New York, Summer encountered a few moments that served little other purpose other than to make her stop and wonder, just for a short time, what her life could be like if certain circumstances were different. One of these moments occurred on her second to last day there, as she stood at Steve's sink after washing a few dishes, watching her son teach Bucky how to play Angry Birds on the living room couch.

David taught by example, showing Bucky how to use the controls and what the object of the game was, and then he handed Bucky his tablet before watching eagerly over his shoulder. Bucky eyed the game with curiosity, a slight furrow to his brows as he tried to copy what David had done. Summer watched, neither boy paying any attention to her, and she smiled as Bucky's concentration visibly grew while he kept playing. Occasionally David would point something out to give him tips, and Bucky would nod his thanks, their conversation as silent as David himself.

And so, as she stood there with a small smile on her face, she let her mind drift to thoughts that she used to try her best to avoid. Thoughts like what life would be like if she hadn't been a single mother from David's conception on, if his father hadn't been a despicable loser, if she'd had someone to share things like first steps and other milestones with. God knew there had been times when she had needed someone, like during the struggle to get David's diagnosis and the even harder struggle to provide him the stability that he needed to function on a daily basis.

What a difference it could have made just to have a bit of encouragement on those nights where she felt useless, stupid, like a clueless kid trying to raise a kid with needs that surpassed her comprehension. Someone who she could have cried to and vented to, trusted and relied on when she needed to take a break before she fell apart.

Naturally, the next thing her mind did was imagine Bucky in Mark's place. In his current state, he wasn't the best candidate for fatherhood, but she imagined everything being different, meeting him under different circumstances and maybe even in a different time. Maybe she would have lived here, met him here, or maybe he would have been stationed in Virginia, just another soldier that she might have met and been charmed by in a far more conventional way than what had actually occurred.

David would have been conceived in love. He'd probably have giant blue eyes instead of brown ones. She wouldn't carry the stubborn, haunting memories that she did, and she would trust a whole lot easier.

Almost lost to her thoughts, she suddenly realized that Bucky had been staring quite intently at the tablet in his hands without making a move for quite awhile. He looked like he was piecing a puzzle together, in the midst of a serious analysis, and she tried to hide her smile as she watched him finally make his move. The sounds that she heard from the tablet and the slight grin on his face told her that his precise tactical plotting against the green piggies had paid off with three stars, and her heart warmed when she watched him share the grin with an excited David as he handed the tablet back. The boy had been stuck on that particular level for days.

Then Bucky's eyes met hers from across the room, and her heart skipped a little as she smiled at him before looking away, pretending to busy herself with the sink.

Of course, it never helped anything to think on impossible fantasies and how the past could be better than what it was, but she had her moments where she couldn't help herself. Watching Bucky beat a level of Angry Birds for her kid had done the trick. How could it not?

After a few more moments she spent idling to get her head back on straight, she headed to the couch herself, sitting on David's other side and giving them both a smile as she settled down on the cushions.

"So. Angry Birds. Addictive, right?" she asked with a grin, to which Bucky shrugged slightly. "You should download it on that shiny new phone of yours."

David immediately got bored with her intrusion into his previous fun, so he slid off of the couch and moved his gaming to the kitchen table. She didn't think much of it - he wasn't much for being sandwiched between two talking people. She turned her eyes back on Bucky and asked, "Can I see it?"

His eyes flashed blank. "See what?"

"Your phone," she chuckled, holding her hand out. He blinked at her before pulling the thing from the pocket of his jeans, and after she took it from him, she nonchalantly scooted herself into his side and made the back of her head comfortable on his right shoulder as she unlocked the phone. He tensed up a bit automatically at her sudden proximity, but she had figured out days before that when he did that, it didn't imply negativity. He simply wasn't used to such contact being a routine thing yet, and she could relate to that. After all, she still felt like she was back in sixth grade every single time he kissed her.

"All right," she sighed, "I'll download the basics for you. Certain apps you just need to have, at least at first. Angry Birds is one of them. It'll get boring after awhile, but it's a great way to kill time if you have to."

He relaxed as she went on, adding some life to his previously very bare, very new, phone. He had exactly two contacts, Steve and herself, and she had no idea what keeping in touch with him after she went home would involve. She hoped it was texting rather than phone calls, because just the thought of talking to him on the phone regularly made her start overthinking and stressing out. She always felt like she made an even bigger idiot of herself on the phone than in person, and that was saying something.

His right hand had taken to playing with her hair as she played with his phone, and every so often she felt his breath brush her ear, but she managed to stay focused on the task at hand. "Okay, so I've got you started there, what else... oh! I know what needs to happen."

He watched as she opened the phone's camera, and his voice was a rumble against her ear as he asked, "What?"

"You," she smiled, glancing up at him, "are going to take your first selfie with me. It goes with the territory of being in the 21st century."

His face was pure confusion. "Take a what?"

"A picture of yourself," she explained. "People go way overboard with selfies, especially girls, but it's easier to get away with it when someone else is in the picture with you."

"But... why?"

She sighed a little, angling closer to him and looking up again as she said, "I don't know, people are obsessed with themselves. It doesn't matter. I just want a picture with you."

He fell silent then, his confused expression melting into something softer. She then smiled brightly and held up his phone in front of them, chirping, "Smile!"

He didn't smile, however, and the resulting photo was hilariously terrible, between her overdone smile and his slight confusion, so she tried again. This time, she tried to appear more normal, but her nose caught an odd angle and looked enormous while Bucky had gone from looking mildly confused to mildly surprised, so she deleted that one and started over. She did this over and over, each picture looking just as bad as the one before, and eventually she just started laughing at each failed attempt. When she felt him start chuckling with her, laughing for the first time since their date at the start of the week, the same warmth that she had felt then flooded her all over again, and she almost didn't notice him snatching the phone out of her hand.

She looked up at him questioningly, but he merely shrugged at her before pulling her closer against him and holding the phone up. She glanced at the phone just as he pushed the button, and for the first time, a decent picture was taken at last.

He let her take the phone back to inspect the picture, and she fell silent as she stared at it. There was just the ghost of a smile on his lips, leftover from when he'd laughed a bit, and it just reached his eyes enough to soften them and confirm that he wasn't forcing it. She glanced at herself and didn't think she looked too bad, but she could have been cropped out of the picture entirely and still been perfectly happy with the results.

She started messing around on the phone again, and he asked softly, "What are you doing?"

"Sending that to myself," she replied, holding up the phone to give him a better view. "Here, watch how you send a picture. Just in case you ever want to send me one and torture me."

He watched and paid attention, his hand going back to playing with her hair as he asked, "Why would that torture you?"

She shot him a sideways glare and replied, "Don't play dumb with me. You know exactly why."

His eyes flashed in amusement, then flickered down to her lips as he asked, "Can I kiss you?"

Cursing her instantly and pleasantly knotting stomach, she glanced over at David to find him still at the table, engrossed in his games, kicking his feet back and forth as they dangled off the chair. She looked back to Bucky and nodded, murmuring, "Make it quick."

He obeyed, leaning in and holding her close with the hand that was already in her hair, kissing her somewhere between softly and roughly and as quickly as she requested. He didn't pull away without stealing a taste of her with his tongue, making her insides dance further, not even slightly used to it yet. It was a good problem to have.

After, she bit her lip and looked down to try to avoid the very direct eye contact that still made her squirm sometimes, and as she pretended to find his phone fascinating as it sat on his lap, she suddenly remembered one more thing she had to do on it and snatched it back.

"What are you doing now?" he asked, amused as she opened his browser and went to Google.

"Changing your background," she replied. The standard one that came with the phone was of water droplets, not a terrible thing, but the picture made her think of cold, rainy days. Bucky had dealt with enough of the cold, in her opinion, so a change was in order. The question was, what to change it to?

He watched in silence as she tried a few different options, eventually settling on something that looked like it came out of some calendar somewhere. It was a tropical beach at sunset, full of warm orange and red tones contrasted by the deep blue of a vast ocean and the softness of a sandy shore, and once it was done, she handed it back to him.

"Why'd you choose that?"

She shrugged, settling her head on his shoulder again and replying, "It looked warm."

Silence fell then, a comfortable one, and his hand drifted from her hair down her back, then to her waist where it lingered as he brushed his lips against her forehead. She let out a long exhale, closing her eyes briefly as she mentally came to terms with the fact that she really did not want to go home.

The apartment was nearly bare but for the basic essentials, as everything else had been packed away the day before and sent to a new location somewhere else in the city. Steve had been mostly gone since Bucky's run-in with HYDRA, apparently off chasing leads with Natasha or something, and Summer had been trying to distract Bucky while he waited for news. So far, she had been mildly successful. He despised being sidelined, but Steve had promised to let him come along when they actually found something worth checking out. In the meantime, Bucky had continued staying with her in her hotel, making them basically inseparable.

It was all still highly surreal, and she was pretty sure that once she was back to being on her own, she would be the most paranoid person in the world, but that wasn't the only reason why she was half-dreading going home.

But, life was what it was, and wishing she could stay was as productive as wishing the past had been different. She just hadn't anticipated leaving being as difficult as she knew it was going to be.

* * *

"Why doesn't he talk?"

Bucky asked the question quietly, sitting on a park bench next to Summer as David sat in the grass, hunting for bugs to inspect. Being outside wasn't necessarily the safest idea, but Summer had insisted, making Bucky their bodyguard for the day. At least the day was slightly warmer than it had been lately, due to the sun that was currently making a somewhat rare appearance.

Summer glanced up at him and paused for a moment before replying, "He's... do you remember the first day you spent with us?"

He did, but it was extremely blurry. His brain had been only partially functioning then, erratically at best. "A little."

"Oh. Well, now that I think of it, I don't know why I didn't think to explain it better to you," she said, her cheeks turning a slight pink. "I'm sorry. He's autistic."

He remembered that word, but he still had no idea what it meant.

"It means his brain works differently than other kids' brains," she explained. "Autism is really common now and nobody really knows why. It can range from mild to severe. David's considered more severe because he's nonverbal and some other factors, but he's done really well with therapy. He doesn't avoid all eye contact, and he does communicate, just not through words. The thing with him is routine. He needs it badly. That's why the last two weeks have been kind of stressful, but he's done a lot better than he would have a year ago."

He listened, falling silent for a moment before another question found it's way out of his mouth. "Where's his father?"

Her expression changed a bit, and he instantly wished he hadn't said anything. He had deduced enough from what she had previously said about the man to understand what had happened and why David existed, and he chose not to think about it, because it made him want to find the man and snap his neck.

"He's in Texas," she replied. "He sends me a check every month and that's about it. I prefer it that way."

He waited a moment before asking another question, one that made his jaw clench a little. "Did he go to prison?"

He saw her wince a little bit, her hands fidgeting in a way that expressed how much she didn't like talking about this. "No. He... well, we were both drunk. He was a lot farther gone than I was. I had just found out that my grandma was dying, and I wanted to forget and just be numb, so I got drunk with him. He didn't even remember what he did the next day. And I was in denial. By the time I snapped out of it, it was too late for... physical evidence."

He furrowed his brows. "Being pregnant wasn't evidence?"

Still fidgeting, she sighed, "I just knew how it would look. His dad was the sheriff's deputy and for some reason I thought that meant nobody would believe me. Plus, being drunk at the time and then waiting almost two weeks to come forward..." she shook her head. "I don't know. I should have. I wish I had. It was just really overwhelming and I was terrified when I found out I was pregnant. And then when I told him what he did, because he didn't remember, he..."

Bucky listened closely, prompting her on gently. "He what?"

"... He was genuinely horrified," she muttered. "But then he blamed me. Said I knew that he was lousy when he was drunk and that I should have known better."

She spoke in a very resigned, unaffected tone, but the more she spoke, the angrier Bucky felt.

"Anyway, so I told him that I was pregnant, and at first he acted like he would help me and be involved, even though I didn't want him to be. Didn't last very long. And the minute we knew that David was different, which was pretty early on, he left town, and I haven't seen him since."

He filed this information with the other bits that she had told him about the man, like the broken arm that he'd inadvertently caused and then didn't take seriously enough to take her to the hospital for, and after taking a breath, he asked, "What's his name?"

"Mark."

"What's his last name?"

She looked at him then, her eyes widening a little bit. "Why?" When he answered with a mere blank look, she smiled nervously and said, "Uh... I'm not sure that I should tell you while you have that look on your face. If it helps at all, I can tell you that my brother took a week off from med school after it happened to come home and beat the crap out of him. And he did a pretty good job of it."

Bucky doubted that. He could do a much better job himself.

"Really. It's fine."

Bucky shook his head slightly. "No it isn't."

She paused, then muttered, "I know. It just... _is_, you know? It's over. I don't think about it. Well, I have nightmares still, but I try not to think about it."

Connecting the dots in his head, Bucky furrowed his brows and asked, "The one you had the other night, was it..."

She stared off towards David as she nodded somewhat miserably. Her hands weren't fidgeting anymore but they were stiff and odd on her lap. "Yep."

He refused to ask her any more questions, knowing firsthand how recalling such things and being forced to talk about them was exceedingly difficult. But he thought back on watching her during that nightmare, how she had been seemingly struggling to breathe and fighting for air, and he didn't think he could stand to know the details of it.

Her forcibly lighthearted tone cut through the murderous thoughts in his head. "This is really crappy park conversation, by the way. Let's change the subject. Feels super nice today, doesn't it?"

She smiled uneasily at him as she spoke, and though he couldn't quite muster up one to give back, he did something that he wasn't sure he'd done yet, which was take her hand in his - the one that wasn't hiding from the world in his pocket - and simply hold it. It was usually her who gave the comforting touches, who would link their hands and let her touch pull him back from the brink, and he thought that it was only right for him to try to do the same for once, whether it did her any good or not.

They sat in silence for a few moments, until David came scampering up to his mother and held out his hand while giving her a toothy grin. She leaned forward to see what he had and then wrinkled her nose and said, "Oh, isn't that cool... but you know what, I think Bucky wants it more than I do."

Bucky looked at her in slight alarm, then looked himself when the boy held his hand out to him. It was just a fuzzy caterpillar. Wariness gone, he held out his right hand and let the boy dump the insect into his palm, and next to him, Summer squirmed away slightly, looking at the thing like it was something other than a harmless fuzzy creature and something quite distasteful.

He let it crawl over his hand, watching it curiously, then glancing to his side when he saw Summer lean forward off the bench to tie David's shoelaces. Her hair was off to one shoulder, the shoulder closest to him, and stifling a grin that still felt odd on his lips, he silently extended his hand towards her. David saw, and when he looked at Bucky questioningly, he winked at the kid. Then he stealthily let the caterpillar crawl from his hand to Summer's shoulder.

"Okay, done," Summer said, patting David's shoe and then straightening up, as Bucky watched the caterpillar creep from the top of the sleeve of her shirt to her exposed neckline. She showed no sign of noticing, straightening out David's shirt and then sitting back against the bench. Bucky kept an eye on her, trying to do so without being too obvious, at least until he saw her swipe at her shoulder as if to scratch an itch. Her hand froze when she brushed against the insect, and then she looked down and promptly squealed and jumped off of the bench.

Drawing the attention of almost the entire park - which, on second thought, probably wasn't the greatest idea he'd ever had - she screeched highly girlishly and smacked wildly at her shoulder, inadvertently knocking the thing right into the front of her shirt, which made her all the more hysterical. David was pointing at her and laughing like Bucky had never heard before, and he wasn't aware of his own smile and his own laughter until Summer finally got rid of the caterpillar and then turned furious eyes on him.

"Did you put that thing on me? You put it on me, didn't you?"

He shrugged innocently, not anticipating how enticing he found her outraged expression. Maybe he needed to provoke her more often. "I don't know what you're talking about."

She narrowed her eyes and then said, "Oh sure you don't. And stop biting your lip."

He paused. Was he biting his lip? He hadn't noticed, but apparently he was. "Why?"

"Because I'm trying to be pissed at you, and it's distracting. And stop looking at me like that too."

"Like what?"

"Like..." she fumbled for a minute, closing her eyes and then shaking her head. "Something I can't say in front of little ears."

He merely grinned in reply, and he knew it would disarm her. It did, instantly softening her features before she inevitably threw up her hands and then sat back down on the bench, refusing to look his way as she raised her eyebrows to the still-giggling David. "Traitor."

At the very least, he had lightened the mood. He kept his eyes on her as she tried her hardest to ignore him, but eventually, she broke out into a smile and her face reddened as she half-exclaimed, "Stop burning holes into me with your eyes!"

But he didn't stop, and the more flustered she got, the more she made him smile, and it was a feeling worth a whole lot more than he would have ever guessed before.

* * *

When Summer's last full day in New York arrived, she felt like she had blinked and then the week had gone by, and she supposed that wasn't far from the truth. She repacked what she had brought that morning, wanting to be ready for her 9 AM flight the next day, listening to the shower run in her hotel room's bathroom, trying not to imagine what was currently taking place in there and failing miserably.

It would be like a giant sugar crash when she got home, except with hormones instead of glucose. This was an entirely new experience, and when she stood in the middle of the room, chewing her lip and letting her imagination get away from her to the soundtrack of the shower and the mental image of the person in it, a sudden and unexpected kick to the shin from David snapped her out of it.

"Ow! What the heck?" she exclaimed, holding her leg as David chuckled at her and then ran off to get into something. She sighed and sat down on the edge of her bed, trying to get her head straight just as she heard the water shut off.

But it really wasn't so bad, she reasoned, because in just a day, she would probably be feeling more paranoid than anything else, so distractions were a good thing. And she'd never personally encountered such a stunningly effective distraction before.

She realized that she had been sitting and staring off into space for way too long again when the bathroom door clicked open, and she quickly - and poorly - tried to make herself look busy as the object of her fixation walked out into the main room. Though, she used the word "walk" loosely, since she had yet to figure out a word to aptly describe exactly how he moved from one point to another.

She tried to be subtle about watching him head towards the couch where his phone was, running his hand through his wet hair and making a t-shirt and jeans look absolutely ridiculous as he - strolled? No, that wasn't right. Sauntered? Better, but still not good enough. Was there a word in the English language fit to describe a man who walked everywhere like he was about to either go blow up national landmarks or go ravage some poor unsuspecting woman, maybe do the second thing on the way to the first? Was the walk something he learned in his training? In between weapons and fight training, did he have to do a "Intimidating, Threatening, &amp; Sexually Appealing Walking 101" class that he clearly aced? Was her fixation on the matter a clear giveaway of the sudden tidal wave of frustration he'd caused within her in the last week?

All too late, she snapped out of her staring when Bucky turned around and looked at her, first quite normally and then with slight concern as he said her name. She shook her head and smiled stupidly before muttering something under her breath and then taking refuge in the bathroom, where she rolled her eyes at herself and wondered when she'd learn to act like a normal human being.

The day passed as quickly as all the others had, maybe even faster, and still mostly free of Steve just like the last three had been. David was a bit bummed out that his hero was always gone when they were at his apartment, but there wasn't much to be done about it. Steve had promised to be there to see them off, but short of that, they simply had to make do with Bucky. Summer was pretty sure that she'd survive.

The routine had become spending the daylight hours at the apartment, where she made Bucky feel at home again by feeding him her cooking all day, then spending the night back at her hotel. Since this was her last day, she figured she would make it extra special and make him the chocolate cake he'd been a fan of during his stay with her. He liked it just as much this time around, and then the three of them ended up in his room after an unintentional smoke situation with the stove forced them into clearer air while the living room aired out.

It was so domestic that Summer could almost forget the kind of people she was dealing with, at least until it was time to head back to the hotel, which was when she was suddenly faced with something that left her completely forgetting how to be a human being again.

She had walked out of Bucky's room first, David in tow, and when she heard familiar male and female voices coming from the kitchen, she assumed that Steve and Natasha had returned early tonight. Thinking little of it, she walked out of the hallway and then slowed down immediately at the sight of the back of a rather large blonde head seated at the table with the two people that she had expected to see. Then she heard a voice decidedly deeper than she expected and somehow vaguely familiar, and as she walked closer, Steve gave her a friendly smile and nodded her way.

In front of the stranger was a gigantic slice of the cake she had made, and when he looked up at her, she felt her eyes widen to comedic proportions. He wasn't waving a hammer around or wearing a big red cape - in fact, he looked deceivingly human in jeans and a black v-neck shirt with his long, undeniably glorious blonde hair tied back save for a few pieces - but she would have recognized Thor anywhere. Any good citizen of Earth would after he eternally changed the way that mankind thought of the universe.

"Hello," the Prince of Asgard smiled, and she smiled back in a way that she knew looked most likely terrifying, what with her eyes popping out of their sockets.

"Thor, this is Summer and her son David," Steve supplied helpfully. "They're... friends. And Summer, I'm sure you know who Thor is."

"Yeah," she half-laughed, more choking than anything, and at her side, David looked up at Thor with a wary and unbelieving expression before apparently deciding that the man was an imposter and losing interest while his mother continued to gawk. "I made that cake," she supplied, having partially no idea what she was saying.

"Ah! Then you have my most sincere compliments!" his voice boomed out, booming despite the reasonable volume of his tone, if such a thing was possible. "It is delicious!"

Her smile managed to get even stupider as she half-slurred a thank you, and then Bucky was suddenly in the kitchen next to her, eyeing the stranger with distrust.

"Bucky, this is Thor," Steve said instantly, and Bucky's expression relaxed a bit. "And Thor, this is my best friend, Bucky."

"An honor to meet you," Thor nodded. "I have heard many great things about you."

Bucky glanced at Steve and then did a slight double take when he saw Summer's still-awestruck expression. After looking at her briefly as if she was insane, he nodded to Thor. "Same here."

Summer was mildly aware of Natasha smirking at her unashamedly adolescent moment, and she almost started protesting when Bucky firmly grasped her hand and started leading her towards the door.

"Have fun, kids," Natasha called out, thoroughly enjoying herself, and Thor raised his hand in a slight wave, and the last thing anyone heard before Bucky literally dragged Summer through the door was her half-dreamily noting "_He's so pretty_" before the door closed in front of her face.

After, at the table, the three occupants sat in brief silence before Natasha broke it. "She's kind of cute. I see it now. You know, in a walking-disaster sort of way."

Steve shrugged and smiled. "Well, Bucky doesn't seem to be losing interest, that's for sure."

Looking mildly confused, Thor said, "I thought you said that he was frozen as you were until only a few months ago."

Steve nodded. "Yeah. Off and on. Mostly on. They only took him out of cryo for missions."

"And he already has a lady?" Thor asked in genuine surprise.

Steve inclined his head and chuckled a bit. "Bucky's... well, he's Bucky."

* * *

Summer bounced all the way back to the hotel, to Bucky's slight irritation. She was far more starstruck over meeting Thor than she had been over meeting Steve, though in her defense, she'd had time to prepare for meeting him as opposed to Thor. Still, Bucky didn't see the big deal over meeting the guy, and after one too many comments about how amazing he looked in the flesh ("Even with the super blonde hair!"), the Thor talk was officially grating on his nerves.

She would be leaving tomorrow, and it didn't seem fair that he'd already spent too long of a time that night listening to her rave about some alien who he didn't find nearly as remarkable as she did.

Once they were back inside her hotel room, shedding coats and flipping on lights, he decided that it was time to put an end to the incessant chatter.

"... And I really wish I'd gotten a picture. I wish I could tell my brother. He wouldn't believe me if I did. I mean, I've met, like, three Avengers now, and not even in a like off-the-street kind of way, but a -"

With one quick glance to make sure that David's attention was elsewhere, Bucky grabbed her wrist and spun her around and finally silenced her with a kiss that was just hard enough to drive his point home. She froze immediately, clearly taken by surprise, and when he pulled away, she looked up at him a bit dazed and asked, "I freaked out a little bit, didn't I?"

He shrugged, releasing his hold on her. "Thought you might need to take a breath."

"Sorry," she grinned a little sheepishly. "I was just... not expecting that. And it was _Thor_."

"Didn't seem all that great to me," Bucky remarked, walking around her to go sit on the couch he'd been spending quite a bit of time on the last few nights.

"Well, you're a guy, so..."

Deciding to stay silent for fear of fueling another Thor-fest, Bucky checked his phone for the time and noted that David's bedtime was fast approaching. The kid was out every night at almost the exact same moment each time, and the nice thing was the bit of time afterwards when he had Summer to himself. Since this was the last night he had for such a thing in the foreseeable future, he anticipated it a bit more than usual.

As had become the routine, he watched as both mother and child disappeared into the bathroom to get ready for bed. They would take about five minutes in there and then emerge dressed for bed, the kid probably in Captain America pajamas and Summer in mostly formless, unremarkable clothes, and then she would read him a story and he would be asleep in about another ten minutes. Bucky would watch, trying to remember if his mother used to do the same things with him, then give up when he wouldn't be able to recall a thing. But, by then, Summer would be guiding him by the hand to her bed, which was where he would make valiant efforts to control his rapidly growing instincts and innocently hold her as she fell asleep. It had become slightly routine by then, and he accepted it for what it was. Sort of.

His first clue that this night might deviate from his expectations was when she re-entered the room wearing far less than he had anticipated. She wasn't indecent, but the small pink shorts and very fitted white camisole was, to his eyes, a lot different from oversized shirts and what she called "yoga pants". He never looked up from gazing at her legs to see if she noticed his staring.

He shook himself out of it after she perched on the side of David's bed to read to him, and he shifted on the couch, letting out a silent sigh as he unconsciously raked a hand through his hair. He was starting to see his therapist's logic in advocating a long-distance relationship, because without distance, he was pretty sure he'd crack and fail very spectacularly at the whole waiting thing, if Summer allowed it. If she would or not, he had no idea.

He heard her gently beckon him up sooner than expected, and he looked up in time to see her smile a bit shyly and then make her way towards the other bed. He stood up too quickly, too eagerly, eyes instantly gluing to her hips as she walked, kicking off his shoes before following her.

The room was silent but for the low sound of the television playing some kids' movie in front of the beds, and Summer grabbed the remote to turn it off as he sat wordlessly on the side of her bed. The room darkened considerably then, illuminated mostly just by street lamps outside of the windows, but it was perfectly light enough to allow him to watch her leave the remote on top of the TV and then come to her side of the bed.

She sat and then started fiddling with her hair, tying it back to keep it out of her face as she slept, and then she looked at him and gave him a small smile. "Tired?"

He shrugged. He was the opposite of tired at the moment. But she had a morning flight to catch, so he assumed that she wanted to fall asleep relatively quickly. He shifted back on the bed, getting in the half-sitting position that he was now used to taking, and waited for her to curl up against him.

Their eyes met, and her mouth opened, but she shut it without saying a word, then drew up the sheets at their feet as she made her way to him. He held his breath when she laid a soft kiss on his lips, then drew back and ran her eyes over his face before kissing him one more time. Then she laid her head down on his chest, molding herself to him, and he closed his eyes as his left arm curled around her and held her there.

"So you're moving tomorrow?" she asked quietly, her voice a light rumble against his ribs.

"Yeah," he replied, letting his metal fingertips trace invisible lines across the top of her back, exposed by her top. She shivered a little from the coolness, but he was starting to think that she liked it.

"Is it somewhere super secret? Super secure superhero super hideout?"

He could hear the smile in her voice. "Sort of."

"Mmm. And here I'm just going back to the boring Virginia woods."

He almost reminded her that she didn't have to, but he knew it would do no good, since she believed that she did. She snuggled closer and let out a breath, and he stayed silent, a little - or a lot - frustrated that he was letting his last night with her just slip away like this.

Her breathing slowed some, and he clenched his jaw a little bit, cursing himself for letting her fall asleep like that. But, to his surprise, only a few moments after he had realized that the night was already over, Summer sat up with a frustrated sigh, her back to him as she ran a hand over her face. "I am so wide awake. I knew this was going to happen."

He sat up, away from the headboard, eyes a little wide with the unexpected development. Maybe he could salvage the night after all, whatever that meant. He had no plan, no words that he could think of saying, not even with their separation looming on the horizon. His eyes roamed from her hair to her mostly-bare shoulders, then to the parts of her back that he'd been running his fingers across just a moment ago, and he drew closer to her without realizing he was doing it.

"I don't like flying anyway. Now I'm gonna be a zombie all day tomorr- _ahh_..."

He almost grinned, the press of his lips to the back of her neck drawing the sound of surprise out of her as he flipped her ponytail over her shoulder and kissed the same spot again before trailing forward, towards her ear, while his right arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her back against his chest. She let her head fall to the side, giving him easier access, and her she steadied herself with a hand on his thigh as he took his time, not wanting to rush as he tried to savor the way she trembled under the his every kiss. He knew he would be replaying it in his head in the coming days.

He had just reached her ear when she turned her head towards him and caught his lips with hers, and she kissed him with zero restraint, angling as close to him as she could get in their current position. His hand on her waist slid down over her side, then to her hip and over the small shorts she wore before running languidly down her leg, past her knee and back up again while her tongue dancing in his mouth sparked a fire within him.

On its way back up, his hand ventured inward up her thigh, and she jerked a little before breaking away and covering his hand with hers, stopping him. "This is weird," she blurted out, panting a little, and at his confused look, she explained, "Not this, but doing this with David right there."

He frowned, looking around the room and trying to think. Since the room was rather small and there was really only one option if she really needed complete privacy, he untangled himself from her and stood up from the bed, dragging her with him by her hand. He had her inside the bathroom in a flash, and he closed the door by pushing her against it and picking up their kiss where they'd left it at. She moaned as the door clicked shut, closing them into pitch blackness. His right arm was around her waist as his left hand fumbled around for the light switch, and when the light scratch of her nails against the back of his head made him shiver, his left hand slapped against the wall, and he accidentally demolished the light switch, shorting out the wiring in the process and taking out the entire overhead light.

They both froze as the room was briefly illuminated by sparks before it fell back into darkness. Bucky took an instinctive step back, shoving his left hand behind him as if afraid that it would grow a mind of its own and then destroy Summer too.

"Hey, hey, it's all right," he heard her say in the darkness, along with her footsteps as they moved her to the sink. He heard a bit more movement, and then a small mounted light next to the bathroom mirror flicked on and bathed the room in a much softer light than the one he'd just taken out. She then turned around and wasted no time placing her hands on his shoulders and looking in his suddenly wary eyes as she said, "It was a light switch. Don't fall apart over a light switch. Please. Especially not tonight."

His eyes flickered from hers to the wall, where there was now a small crater where the switch had once been. Just when he was about to crawl back inside of his mental hole and never touch her again for fear of leaving a similar crater somewhere on her person, she grabbed his face and looked at him with a sudden fierceness that he wasn't sure he'd seen before.

"Bucky. Look at me."

He looked at her.

"Listen to me."

He listened.

"Your arm isn't gonna go away. It's always gonna be there. And that light switch probably isn't gonna be the last thing you accidentally destroy with it. And I don't care. Okay? I don't care. I mean it. Now can you please kiss me again before I explode?"

He struggled for a moment, but only for a moment. His eyes took in the determination within her own before falling to her cheeks, still flushed and warm, then falling lower to her chest, heaving with her breath and barely covered by thin material that was almost but not quite sheer. His right hand twitched, his mind calmed just enough, and with a muffled groan, he grabbed her and kissed her with hunger that he couldn't stand to suppress this time. He could feel her relief in the way that she melted against him, winding her arms around his neck and humming in gratitude as he had his way with her mouth.

First he pushed her against the bathroom counter, then a wall, and briefly the door again before nothing seemed to be working the way that he wanted to. She was clawing at his shirt and her hair was tangled all around his hand after he had ripped her hair tie out and freed it, and yet he couldn't figure out where to put her.

Ever helpful, she used all of her weight to turn them around and press him to the door, and his eyes opened when he felt her hands go to his shoulders and push down. She stared back with heavy-lidded eyes that made his blood run a little hotter and helped persuade him to follow her lead, sinking down to the floor as she directed. She followed him down, and both of his hands took hold of her hips as she straddled his lap and took his face in her hands.

His lungs strained for a satisfying breath of air and it was getting harder to not lose his head, but her fingers gently tracing along his face as her eyes flickered through all of his features made a lump suddenly form in his throat. He didn't know why it was there, but it threatened to set his nerves on edge. Then she spoke, a smile playing on her swollen lips.

"I know I went on and on about Thor tonight, but... _God_, you are so much better."

He might have laughed if she hadn't then smashed her lips against his and ground herself against him at the same time, flatlining his thoughts and drawing a sound from his throat that she swallowed down. Then he was reaching for every inch of her that he could and she was successfully pulling his shirt over his head, and her mouth left his to acquaint itself with places it hadn't been before.

His left hand tangled in her hair while his right toyed with slipping into the back of her shorts while she kissed her way down and across his chest, sweetly at first and then progressively more open-mouthed and lustful, making him nearly shake with need that he still wasn't fully used to. When she slowed down unexpectedly, he opened eyes he hadn't meant to close and saw that her pause was due to reaching the thick scarring on his shoulder, where flesh met metal.

The first time she had touched him there, months ago, he had shifted away and recoiled at the contact. Now he simply watched her, unconsciously licking his lips when she glanced up him a little bit cautiously before lowering her head and pressing her lips softly to the marks.

He shivered a little, and he couldn't pretend to be fully comfortable with that particular part of him being kissed, but she did it with such gentleness and almost reverence that it only served to intensify everything else he was feeling. She kissed down the line of scars until it disappeared into smooth skin, and his hand in her hair drew her back up as he looked in her eyes and saw something that was nearly beyond his comprehension: pure, genuine acceptance. It was a lot to take in, for a man who was a long way away from accepting himself.

She looked to him a bit uneasily, probably for fear of overstepping or upsetting him, but he eased her fears by pulling her close and kissing her. It was a slower and different kiss from the others, less frantic and more feeling, more vulnerable than he was entirely okay with. But he needed it, and if he needed it, then surely she did as well.

As the kiss eventually grew more intense, his left hand grazed over her shoulder, pulling down the strap of her top while his other dragged the hem up her torso while it slipped beneath the fabric and moved upwards with a caution that Summer apparently detected. She pushed his hands off of her and pulled away from his lips, muttering something that sounded like "frozen and deprived for a million years" as she gripped the hem of the thing and pulled it over her head.

His mouth was suddenly dry and he stopped breathing for a moment, faced with the realization that what he'd been imagining was underneath her tops for at least the last week (but longer than that in reality) was far inferior to what was now before him. As he stared, and before he could make his limbs catch up with his brain and the blood rushing away from it as quickly as possible, she took his hands - left one included - and placed them over her breasts, then held them there as he managed to look up into her eyes for a moment.

She looked nervous, eyeing him a bit shakily as her hands slowly fell away, leaving his where they were. If it was some inexplicable insecurity that he was seeing in her eyes, he thought it best to see it gone, giving the soft, perfect skin under his hands a slow and firm squeeze as he leaned forward and drew her into another kiss before whispering against her lips, "Lie back."

* * *

In hindsight, that might have been the point where she should have put on the brakes for a moment. After all, there was only so many different potential outcomes to the present situation with her underneath him, on the floor of a hotel bathroom, both of them topless and barreling headfirst towards something they'd both agreed to wait for only days earlier.

But as it was, Summer was only human, and she was absolutely on fire.

The floor beneath her was cold but Bucky on top of her was almost blisteringly hot, the skin to skin contact scrambling her brain while he kissed her, every inch that he could reach, with such frantic passion that she could feel his desperation. It mirrored hers, and now she felt as if she could at last understand why people let passion ruin their lives - it was the most intoxicating thing she had ever felt, and completely worth the risks she'd taken. Her comfort zone was gone and she had been more than prepared for rejection, but he couldn't seem to tear his lips or his hands away from her.

With her legs wrapped around his waist and one hand in his hair while the other grasped at the smooth skin of his back, she tried to keep quiet as he rocked his hips into hers and made her pulse race with the attention that his lips and tongue lavished on her breasts. It was entirely too much, a shock to her system and a bucket of gasoline on an already-burning flame, and she was pretty sure that all those reasons for waiting were totally irrational. What were they again?

Then he was kissing her lips again, and moving against her with a shaky but determined urgency, his right hand roaming down her chest to her stomach and then the waistband of her shorts, and as they hooked into the thin fabric and started pulling, she bit his lip and tried to ignore the weird song playing in the background.

Then she paused. _Weird song?_

It was her phone, she suddenly realized, freezing up a bit as the familiar strain of Weird Al's "White and Nerdy" all but blared through the air from her phone that she had forgotten was plugged in to one of the bathroom outlets from when she'd been getting ready for bed.

Bucky hovered over her, his eyes pleading with her to ignore her brother's incoming call, and she pulled him down for a kiss, deciding to at least try to comply with his wishes. But, he didn't know how persistent her brother was, and in the middle of the third call, she gently pushed Bucky away and muttered breathless apologies over and over as she scrambled to her knees and crawled the short distance to the sink, grabbing blindly at the counter before finding her phone and putting it to her ear with a shaky hand.

"What the hell, Paul! Do you know how late it is?!"

"It's not that late here. And you were supposed to call me back two days ago. I was worried."

She rolled her eyes, suddenly feeling chilly without a firm, warm man on top of her. She glanced his way and saw him, sitting disheveled on the floor with his hair an absolute mess on top of his head, eyes dark and lips perfectly swollen as he stared at her with such heat that it threatened to make her whimper, which she could not do right now. "My gosh, Paul, I'm fine. Seriously. Now can I call you later?"

"Why so anxious to hang up? Are you with your ax murderer?"

Feeling suddenly weird talking to him in her current state, she spotted her discarded camisole nearby and dragged it closer with her foot, then dropped it over her chest, fully aware that she was being ridiculous. She glanced at Bucky again and saw that he wasn't happy with the move, either. She also noticed visual evidence that his jeans must have been extremely uncomfortable at the moment, then gulped and replied in a too-high pitched voice, "I just really need to hang up now."

"Oh, hell, Summer, I hope you're keeping your pants on. I mean, I knew this was going to happen sooner or later, but -"

"Yes my pants are on!" she half-exclaimed, face suddenly burning. Bucky's eyes widened a little bit in confusion and she covered her face with her hand. "I am so hanging up."

"Wait, wait, wait - seriously, are you okay?"

She almost screamed in frustration, then peeked past her hand and almost dropped her phone when she saw Bucky crawling towards her. There wasn't much space to cross, but the way that he looked at her while he did it made her nearly choke. "I... what?"

"Ugh, you are with him. You should put him on so I can threaten his life."

"Uh..." was all she could manage, dying a little inside when Bucky grasped one of her ankles and then slid his hand up her calf before pressing his lips to the inner side of her knee. She let her jaw drop a little as he trailed his mouth upwards, along the inside of her thigh, and when he peeked up at her in the process, she made some odd strangling noise that must have sounded extremely weird over the phone.

"Summer?"

Snapping out of it, she batted Bucky's head away and fought off giggles trying to bubble out of her throat. "What? I'm fine! I told you I'm fine."

"I'm not hanging up until I get a name. If this guy's defiling you I need to know whose name is going on the tombstone."

Undeterred by her efforts to push him off, Bucky shot her a lazy half-grin and refocused his efforts higher, kissing her stomach while tugging on the top she was still clutching to her chest. She tightened her grip on it and smiled at him, trying to twist away, but she was basically pinned against the cabinets under the sink, and she had nowhere to go.

"Nobody's defiling me, okay? And you know I can't tell you yet, so I don't know why you're even aaah...asking." She slapped a hand over her mouth, having just been bitten just above her hipbone, and she playfully swatted the back of Bucky's head for making her humiliate herself.

"Oh God. I'm hanging up. I don't want to know what you're doing. Use protection. Ugh."

Then, at long last, Paul hung up, and Summer let her phone clatter to the ground. "You evil son of a -"

Her curse was swallowed in a fast, deep kiss, but some of her brain had returned to her in the last few moments, and she managed to keep it from fleeing away when he drew back to stare at her in that completely brain-meltingly hungry way that made her heart fall out of her chest.

Keeping in mind that only a short time ago he would have just stared blankly at her and been slightly afraid to touch her anywhere, let alone places that were new to his eyes, she was about one step away from doing her best Bilbo Baggins impression and asking dramatically "_What have we done?_" because it appeared that some kind of sleeping dragon had indeed been fully awakened.

"Bucky," she said more breathily than intended as he pulled her on his lap and started sucking on her neck, just under her ear where she was most sensitive. She closed her eyes and clutched his shoulders. "Bucky... please, stop for a minute."

To his credit, he listened and stopped immediately, raising his head and again making her gulp with the way that he looked at her. She steeled herself and said, "Not that I don't want to do this, because I do, like, more than I want to breathe, but I don't think either of us really want it to happen on a bathroom floor. In a hotel."

His eyes shifted from dazed with hunger to slowly-dawning comprehension of her words, and he blinked a few times as he looked down between them and seemed to return to himself, at least on some level. She also noticed that her top was crumpled against the door across the room, and she had no idea when he'd snatched it from her, let alone thrown it there.

"Sorry."

Her eyes snapped to his, and she quickly replied, "Oh my God, don't apologize. Trust me, I want to. A lot. I think more than I ever had in my life. And I kind of hate myself for stopping you, but... I don't want to rush and screw things up, you know?"

He nodded, though she had the feeling that it was more of an automatic response than a sign of his actual thoughts.

Her physical frustration had reached painful levels, and if it was that bad for her, she shuddered to think how he felt at the moment. She opened her mouth, spontaneously deciding to point out that she could still offer him a helping hand, but then she panicked and closed her mouth. It had been a really long time, and if she was terrible, she would cry, jump off the hotel balcony, and never forgive herself.

As she cursed her cowardice and thought to herself that this, her ineptitude, was why she couldn't have nice things, Bucky spoke and interrupted her spiraling thoughts.

"It would be easier to wait if you weren't..."

Her eyes widened a little bit, swallowing reflexively, hanging on his words and hoping against hope that the next ones wouldn't be something negative.

Brows furrowed softly, he slowly let his eyes roam over her, reminding her of how little she was still wearing, and a few moments passed where he searched silently for the right word. She held her breath until he said just above a murmur, "... Perfect."

First, her heart thudded erratically against her chest, and then she was pretty sure that she'd heard him wrong. But then it sunk in that she had not, and the way that he said it was with such a lack of agenda and really just a sort of innocence that she thought only he was truly capable of.

As complex and complicated as he was, on some levels, he was also incredibly simple. She couldn't doubt his sincerity, especially not when he raised his eyes to hers and she felt something inside of her break a little.

So naturally, she inadvertently tried to ruin the moment. "If you think I'm perfect, that's just proof that you need to date around some."

He looked at her, glancing down at her chest like he had been about every five seconds, still as subtle as a horse, and then he met her eyes again before replying, "Wouldn't change anything."

"You say that now," she babbled. "But then you'd meet someone actually confident and... girly, and experienced and... seductive. Basically Natasha without the scariness. Then you'd see how ridiculous I actually am. I mean, I can't even -"

He shushed her with two long fingers against her lips, and he might have been on the verge of a slight smile, but it was hard to tell. Then the fingers slid beneath her chin, tipping her head back, and she closed her eyes as his lips brushed hers. Sometimes she was pretty sure that half of her problem was just talking too much.

The next few moments were a bit hazy, a mix of arms and lips and slow movements, marked by a mutual reluctance to let the moment end. But, it did end when Bucky unexpectedly drew away to grab her top, then returned to help pull it back over her head. His hands lingered after the top was back on, and every brush of his fingers and look he gave her was nothing short of torture.

But, soon enough, he was standing and helping her to her feet, and in comfortable silence, they made their way to the bathroom door. Bucky threw his shirt back on as she opened stepped back out to the main room, and then it was a silent walk back to bed. As if she had a single hope of sleeping after all of that.

She crawled into bed first, then watched as he followed, taking up the position she had gotten him in the habit of in the last few nights. But, tonight, she thought that a change was in order, despite how fond she'd grown of falling asleep on his chest.

"Let's switch." When he looked at her quizzically, she shrugged and laid down next to him, head propped on a few pillows, then motioned for him to come and lay at her side. He stared at her for a few seconds before making his awkward way there.

She hid a smile at the unsure way that he lowered himself down and paused, trying to figure out how to even mildly comfortably do what she was asking, but she guided him with a hand on his shoulder to lay his head on her chest, and he followed her lead. Then he struggled next with what to do with his metal hand, since he was laying on his right side and he needed to put it somewhere, and she almost rolled her eyes as she took it and then wrapped his arm over her waist. It did feel a bit like snuggling with a very large, limb-shaped, expensive toaster, but it was a part of him. And she really thought that he should have gotten the message that she was perfectly fine with it after she'd made him grope her with it. Which had been a very cold but pleasurable experience.

She ran her fingers soothingly through his hair, helping him to relax against her and trying to memorize how he felt when they were this close. Looking up at the ceiling, she released a sigh and said quietly, "I wish you would fall asleep with me."

"I can't," was his slightly feeble reply.

"I know. But it would be nice." As she let her fingers continue to play with his soft, inviting strands, she added, "I can't imagine how exhausted you are. Please try to sleep tomorrow night."

He remained silent, his breath a light tickle on skin that wasn't covered by her tank. "Is it the nightmares? Could you sleep if you didn't have them?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

Still wide awake and still keeping her eyes on the ceiling, Summer next said, "You know that all I know about you is what I read online when you first came to my house. I only looked to figure out who you were and what happened to you. After that I've avoided reading anything else because I wanted to hear it from you, not the Internet." When he said nothing, she added, "I'm not asking you to give me details or say anything you don't want to. I guess I just want to understand better."

Silence stretched for so long after she spoke that she was sure that she had said something wrong. But then, to her relief, he finally spoke.

"I can barely remember the... before I fell. There's bits and pieces but they don't really fit most of the time."

She blinked slowly, then asked, "What about after? Is it easier to remember?"

"Yes."

Then she furrowed her brows, contemplating something she had wondered about quite a bit in the past. "Did they take your memory... a lot? Was it just once?"

Another few moments of silence, and then Bucky replied, "It happened after every mission."

_Every_ mission... over the course of at least five decades?

She swallowed and then asked quietly, "How?"

She could feel the tension growing in his body as he spoke, but the fact that he was speaking and opening up at all had to be a good thing.

"... A chair."

She braced herself for what he would say next, the two simple words sending a chill down her spine.

They spoke well into the middle of the night, conversing on a level that they never had before, and for the first time, Summer got a clear picture of why and how Bucky had come to be what he was. Some of it made her stomach churn and her heart hurt, but whatever discomfort it caused her had to cause at least tenfold within the man telling her. And that made every word he spoke, as wrenching as they were, all the more special, because of how much trust she knew that it took on his part to share them with her at all.

And when she did finally fall asleep, it was in his arms, for the last time in the foreseeable future.

**A/N: *clears throat* So... dat frustration, right? And it's not over yet. *evil laughter* Anyway, my usual thanks to you wonderful readers, followers, reviewers, I love you all and I can't thank you enough for taking the time to read these gigantor chapters. I do have something slightly unusual to mention here today, and I really didn't want to, but I decided that it was best to go ahead and tell you guys about a guest "review" I got and subsequently deleted this last week. If you read Breath of Life, then you may know the slight bit of drama that occurred with a number of anon reviews posted by someone claiming that I'd stolen a story idea from someone else, that I needed to delete the story, blah blah, which of course was not true. I started moderating my anon reviews, and the same anon reviewer went on to try to post many more reviews where they claimed to be outraged and offended that Summer's grandmother is depicted as a Holocaust survivor (apparently that's offensive?), that there are tons of authors on this site that I've ripped off who are reporting me, that I need to delete all my work, blah blah blah, y'all get the point. This has continued on with this current story, and now this same "reviewer" has taken to posing as an admin in the hopes of scaring me away (which is hilarious). Here is what they submitted this week, completely unedited:**

**"Attention:Team Damon,**

**It has been reported that you have threatened authors and used their ideas for your own published work without their permission, resulting in willful dishonest behavior on this site and to the loyalty of your readers.**

**Conveying with other authors on this site and using their ideas is a form of misconduct for which you are making yourself a threat to any new authors. This is allowed on FF. Also, reports of you incorporating real life history has been issued. The Holocaust must be respected in all forms and with no involvement in fictional stories.**

**You are hereby warned to refrain from publishing work on this site, failure to do so shall evoke appropriate action.**

**You are further advised to remove all work without explanation. Removing this memo will display that you are dishonest to your readers and followers."**

**Why am I posting this? Well, besides to prove my lack of dishonesty and give you guys a good laugh, I'm doing it to go a step further for this person and make sure all of you see what they have to say, not just those of you who might take a look at the reviews page. First of all, I haven't copied anyone, and that should be abundantly clear by now, this far into the story. Secondly, there are no rules on this site stating that real life history can't be incorporated into stories. If that was the case, I wouldn't be able to mention Bucky or Steve's involvement with WWII in any capacity, since that was a real life event. And anyway, Summer's grandmother in this story serves as an example of strength and perseverance, partially through her status as a Holocaust survivor. It's not showing the event or the people it affected any disrespect, which is something I would never do, because I am not an evil, soulless person. I ain't Hydra. Thirdly, the fact that this person is now trying to fool me into thinking that an admin would leave an anonymously signed review to discuss problems with my work is frankly insulting to my intelligence. Yes, I have had to edit my work before due to copyright issues regarding use of song lyrics and lines from movie dialogue used in flashback scenes of some of my stories. And the folks that I dealt with on that issue, from a sort of watchdog community on FF that reports to admins on the subject of copyright infringement, were lovely, fair people, and it ended up being a positive experience. My case thread is still posted in their comm, btw, if anyone wants the link, message me and I'll send it. I'm not hiding anything over here. I have never, ever, stolen ideas from anyone. I posted song lyrics at times and quoted movies. Very different things. Both against the rules, as I found out, but nonetheless very different.**

**So, I pose a question to you (actual) readers and reviewers - if you all would prefer that I do not continue to censor this troll's comments for the sake of full disclosure, then I will not, and I'll stop moderating the reviews. I'm fine with that. I defer to your guys' wishes. Honestly, I hate giving this person a shred of attention, but I decided that enough was enough with this last one. I'm just here to vent my fandom feels, seriously. It's just fanfiction. It's supposed to be fun. People like this suck the fun out of it. Or they try to, anyway.**

**So let me know what you guys think, and thank you for sticking with me and following this story. Some of you have been following me for a long time, across several fandoms, and I am incredibly grateful for that. I'll see you guys in a week with another chapter :D And lest I forget, my equally huge and sincere thanks to midnightwings96 for being totally awesome and incredibly helpful and just the best. See you guys in a week :D (sorry for the rambling lol)**


	5. Chapter 5

Summer awoke the next morning to the jarring sound of her phone alarm, ringing loudly from the table next to the bed and making her curse having stayed up so late the night before.

Alone in the bed, she half-fell out of it trying to grab the phone to make the horrible noise stop. Once she was finally successful, she let the phone drop to the bed and sat up, blinking heavily and rubbing at her eyes, while next to her in the other bed, her son did exactly the same thing, mirroring her perfectly.

As her brain slowly came back online, she registered the sound of the shower running in the bathroom, and then tried to piece together exactly why she felt like she'd only slept for maybe three hours at the most. It didn't take her long, and her eyes widened a little bit as the memories came flooding back - major half-naked making out on the bathroom floor, followed by a conversation that the word "heartbreaking" didn't do service to.

It was weird to want to blush and kind of want to cry at the same time. And way too early for either one.

Eventually, she dragged herself out of bed and started checking everything she'd repacked the day before, double checking that it was all where it was supposed to be. She was so wrapped up in trying to competently make sure that they were ready for the return trip home that she didn't hear Bucky emerge from the bathroom, didn't hear his admittedly silent footsteps behind her, and therefore almost jumped in surprise when a set of warm fingertips brushed her side and then slid across her lower back before disappearing. She looked up to see him walk past her, giving her a look that was altogether far too potent for seven in the morning, and she swallowed against her suddenly dry throat before turning back to her suitcase and trying to remember what she had been doing.

Oh, right. Going home and putting way too many miles between herself and the man who had sprung to life a whole family of butterflies in her belly with that one covert touch.

The last seven days had passed far too quickly and made too many things seem... deeper.

But, the morning left her little time to think much on those thoughts, and by the time she got herself and David dressed and ready, she realized that they were indeed missing a rather important item from their inventory.

"Tablet, tablet, tablet," she muttered to herself, zipping around the room looking for the thing that was instrumental in keeping David calm on a plane, but succeeding in only finding the charging cord. Then she stood in the middle of the room, hands on her hips, brows furrowed and thinking as both David and Bucky watched her with similarly blank expressions.

"Crap... where could it be? When was the last time he had it?" she half-whispered to herself, fully aware that she probably looked weird. Then her eyes lit up and she swung around. "Oh! Your apartment! We left it there!"

Bucky nodded, then stood up and grabbed her suitcase off of her bed. "Then let's go get it."

She nodded and grabbed her purse, figuring she'd catch a cab to the airport from Steve's place, and after one last sweep of the room, the three of them hustled out of there and on to the street.

As they walked down the street, Bucky carrying her luggage like any good gentleman from an era long passed, Summer held David close to her side by his hand and started to notice the protective way in which Bucky walked beside them. He stayed just slightly ahead of them, to her left side so that his left arm faced the world around them, and though his checks were subtle, she could see him constantly looking forward, backward, and all around, like he was waiting for someone to jump out of the shadows and try to take them down. Now that she thought of it, it was how he always walked with them.

Silently, she let her free hand fall away from holding her purse to her shoulder and let it find Bucky's right one. In light of his handy holographic cover being destroyed, he now wore a pair of black leather gloves whenever he was in public, so the cool material was what she felt on her skin as she laced her fingers with his and smiled as he looked down at her. He didn't smile back, but there was something in his eyes that made her think that he was liking her a whole lot more than she honestly ever thought he would. It was almost softness, something that one did not often catch a glimpse of in his often-chaotic eyes.

Their hands parted when they arrived at the apartment, which Bucky unlocked and then led them through. Then there was a loud crashing sound from the kitchen, and suddenly, for one very brief moment, everything moved very quickly.

At the sound, Bucky instantly threw Summer behind him with his left arm and seemed to tense in preparation for battle. Since the kitchen was right at the front of the unit, Summer could peer into it from behind Bucky's rather imposing figure, and after instinctively shielding David by covering his ears and holding him in a tight hug to her chest, she took a quick look. And what she saw was Steve Rogers, glancing their way with a horrified look on his face before quickly turning his back to them and furiously fumbling with... something. As she wondered what in the world was happening, Natasha's head materialized from right in front of where he'd been standing as she apparently rose up from the floor, and she was smiling and possibly discreetly swiping a finger against her lips, and suddenly Summer realized what they'd walked in on.

"Oh, sweet mother of... _nope_, no, not happening," she groaned to herself, turning around to hide her own embarrassment and shield David while Bucky relaxed but stared at the scene with an expression that gave away how utterly unimpressed he was. Natasha simply smiled at the intruders and casually leaned back against the counter while Steve finally turned around, which was also when Summer begrudgingly tried to turn back around herself.

"Hi!" Steve chirped, voice entirely too high and his smile entirely too wide. His face was also roughly the color of a strawberry, giving even Summer on her worst blushing day a run for her money. "I didn't think you guys would be here this early!"

"Obviously," Natasha added, smiling more when Steve winced a little at her interjection.

Summer smiled weakly at him, truly feeling his embarrassment, then glanced at Bucky, who looked a little confused at it all, but not because he misunderstood, since that was pretty much impossible. Desperate to put an end to the awkwardness, Summer matched Steve's high pitch and said, "Well, uh, I accidentally left David's tablet here yesterday, and -"

"Oh, right!" Steve half-exclaimed, still hilariously jumpy, opening one of the kitchen drawers and producing the thing. "Here. I found it last night and forgot about it, sorry."

He stepped forward to hand it to her, and she took it with a nod. "Oh it's fine, I understand. You're... busy." She cringed, then covered it up with a smile. "Thanks."

He smiled back. "No problem. So your flight leaves soon, right?"

She nodded, and a few minutes of desperate small talk ensued, where Steve tried to act as normal as possible and she tried to assure him through the pointless talk that nothing was weird at all. Bucky watched them go back and forth with an expression that said he thought they were both insane, between occasional, mildly loathsome glances at Natasha. In the midst of it all, the innocent and oblivious David simply stared and smiled up at his hero.

After the forced conversation was over, Steve excused himself for a moment, disappearing into the hallway of the now-completely furniture-free apartment. Summer shifted on her feet a bit, glancing up involuntarily at Natasha after a moment. The redhead gestured to a brown paper bag on the counter and asked, "Had breakfast yet?"

Summer opened her mouth to answer, but Bucky beat her to it, replying with something that was clearly in Russian. Then Natasha smirked and answered him in the same language, and Summer was utterly lost, looking between the two and feeling too American for her own good. But, if she had ever randomly pursued a career as a Russian interpreter, she would have known that Bucky's comment had been "_Clearly you have_," and that Natasha had shot back with "_Jealous?_".

Bucky made a face of distaste at Natasha and then turned away from her. Summer looked at the other woman in lingering confusion, and she simply smiled and gestured to the bag. "Muffins."

"Oh. Okay. Thanks," Summer nodded, pretty sure that the secret Russian conversation hadn't involved bakery items, but whatever. She'd always be a little clueless around these people, she had come to accept.

Thankfully, the odd get-together ended soon, with Steve re-emerging with a hat and jacket on, suggesting they all get her downstairs and into a cab before she missed her flight. She expected Natasha to stay behind, for some reason, but everybody tagged along out the door, and Summer felt the Twilight Zone feeling creeping back up on her.

Down on the street, Steve hailed a cab, then quickly began the process of telling David goodbye. Summer couldn't help but smile as she watched her son get to live out the ultimate childhood fanboy dream, and Steve was so genuine that she knew he didn't think it a burden or something he had to just endure. He seemed to have really grown a soft spot for her kid.

Bucky stood at her side, as always, and loaded her luggage into the trunk of the cab for her. Natasha was quiet, keeping an eye on things behind Steve, and after Steve finished hugging David goodbye, he straightened up and then immediately spotted a small group of kids staring at him from across the street. Summer followed his gaze, saw the kids and how they recognized him despite his brilliant hat disguise, and when she turned back around, Bucky and Natasha had vanished, seemingly into thin air.

She blinked in confusion, but then Steve was giving her a look that said "bear with me" just before he was promptly mauled by the kids.

Right. World's first superhero and major celebrity and all that.

She tried to slunk off a bit herself, and after Steve had graciously took pictures with the kids and signed all their stuff before sending them on their way, he turned back to her and shrugged. "Part of the job."

She smiled and nodded. "Yeah. It's easy to forget how huge you are now that I actually kinda know you."

"I take that as a compliment," he grinned.

"You should. I always used to wonder if you were really a jerk in real life," she rambled slightly, "and now I definitely know you aren't."

He laughed. "Glad I laid that idea to rest. Thanks again for coming out. I know traveling isn't easy for you."

"Thanks for making it happen at all," she replied. "I really do want to pay you back still."

He shook his head. "Nope."

She sighed, then was slightly surprised when he drew her in for a hug. Now she could say that Thor liked her cake and that Captain America had hugged her. Life was becoming ridiculous on a bizarrely awesome level.

Then something popped into her head just before the hug ended. "Can you try to make sure he starts sleeping?"

Steve drew away then, nodding to her. "Yeah. Don't worry about it. That's why I'm here."

She almost frowned at those simple words for how innocently profound they were. Bucky could literally be in no better hands.

It was then that she realized that both Bucky and Natasha had reappeared from whatever shadows they had been hiding in, and Steve took that as his cue to leave. "Well, have a safe flight. You've got my number if you ever need anything."

Summer nodded. "All right. Thanks again."

Steve smiled at her, giving David one last goodbye, and then he started heading back up to his empty apartment. Natasha followed him, though she gave Summer a look that was almost a fraction of a smile before saying, "See you around."

Summer suddenly remembered something. "Oh, your hair clip - do you want it back?"

Natasha shrugged from over her shoulder. "Nah. Keep it."

Summer nodded, glad that she didn't have to dig through her admittedly scary purse for it. Then she realized that only one person was left to say goodbye to.

She looked at Bucky, then David, then the waiting taxi, and suddenly it seemed a lot colder outside. She was at a loss for a moment, but then she gained some clarity and put a hand on David's little shoulder. "Time to tell Bucky goodbye, kiddo."

She thought it was funny that Bucky still appeared to panic a little wherever it came to either greeting or departing the boy. He looked at her in slight alarm, and she mouthed _hug him_ with a small smile. He'd get the hang of having a little boy admirer one of these days, or at least she hoped that he would.

The hug was quick and sufficiently stiff, though not as much as previous ones, and she might have died a little when Bucky returned David's parting smile. Then she loaded David into the taxi, tossed her purse inside as well, and turned back around to face Bucky, feeling slightly nervous.

It only took one look in his eyes for it to hit her how much she really, really, did not want to say goodbye. It was like a rush of ice-cold water down her spine, and she genuinely shivered a little bit before sighing and trying to come up with something to say.

She settled on something that popped into her head at the last minute, while they'd been staring at each other in silence. Smiling uneasily, she said, "So. Since I'm leaving and all, how about a translation of that French stuff?"

His lips quirked up in a fleeting smile. "No."

She slouched her shoulders and rolled her eyes. "You're killing me here." When he didn't reply to that, opting instead to simply stare at her as if doing so would prolong her stay, she took a deep breath and reached out, pulling him into a tight hug.

Unlike some of their earliest embraces, there was no hesitation on his part to wrap his arms around her in turn. She closed her eyes at the comfort of the moment, feeling him breathe in the scent of her hair, wondering if she should have left him a bottle of her shampoo since he seemed to like it so much. Or maybe that would have been weird. Then again, last time they'd parted, she chopped off a piece of her hair and gave it to him, and that was probably weirder.

She would miss waking up every day knowing that she would get to see him. She would miss falling asleep on his chest, with the sounds of his arm whirring and clicking in one ear while his heartbeat thumped in her other. She could only hear the mechanical noises when the night was at its most quiet, as they were soft and easy to drown out, and it had become almost an almost lulling thing. Those sounds were soundtrack she couldn't hope to replicate at home without him.

He eased her hair back with one leather-covered hand and let his lips brush over her ear, and as her skin prickled in response, something occurred to her. Duh, she would miss him. That was obvious. She'd been missing him for nearly four months and now she was in for who knows how much longer of missing him. But was it wrong to want him to miss her just as much?

Drawing back a bit from their embrace, Summer looked up into his eyes and then down at his lips before placing one hand on his face and using the other to grip the collar of his jacket. Then she kissed him in a way that she hoped would leave a lasting impression. They had spent enough time in the last week doing this for her to know what he liked, what made noises pull from his throat, and what made his fingers tighten on her hips. A light, tingling scratch of her nails on the back of his neck, a firm swipe of her tongue against his, a little push of her hips into his, and he would groan in a way that made her want to slam her head into a wall. In a good way. And this time was no exception.

The taxi driver yelled just as they were on the verge of getting carried away, and Summer pulled away first, smiling at the interruption and feeling her breath leave her at the way Bucky was looking down at her. She kissed him again, more quickly this time, and murmured, "I'm gonna miss you even more this time."

He looked a bit pained when she said this, so she quickly added, "I want you to text me. A lot. I don't care what about. You can tell me what you had for breakfast for all I care. I just want to hear from you, okay?" He nodded. "And I want you to try to sleep. You can't live off of two hours every night forever. Eventually you'll just... shut down, or lose it, or..."

He kissed her, ending her sentence, and then brushed his lips against her ear again before murmuring quietly, "Stay safe."

She nodded. "I will "

"I mean it."

She looked up then, seeing the resolve behind his words, and she nodded again. "Okay."

Then he kissed her again, and the cabbie yelled again. She smiled and broke away. "I'm gonna miss my flight."

He nodded, but he didn't let her go, and she didn't want him to. She embraced him one more time, and just before she could tear herself away from his arms, his lips brushed hers in a soft, gentle kiss, and as it sent flutters through her middle, she knew it was the kiss she wanted to end the week with.

Her forehead gently leaning against his, she looked up at him and half-whispered another goodbye. He nodded, his jaw tight, and finally, he let her go. As she stepped backwards towards the car, she smiled and said, "I'm serious about the texting thing."

He didn't answer, instead shoving his hands inside his pockets as he watched her slide into the cab. All too soon, she had shut the door, and after she locked her seatbelt into place, she met his gaze once more, through the window. This time, it physically hurt put distance back between them. His eyes didn't leave hers until the cranky driver hit the gas and got them on the road.

After he had disappeared from her sight, she sighed and leaned her head back, closing her eyes. As much as she had prepared for it, walking away from him had ended up being a heck of a lot harder than watching him walk away from her.

The sound of sniffling pulled her out of her thoughts. She looked at her side and saw David's shoulders trembling slightly as he stared at the tablet in his hands, and her eyes widened as she automatically reached an arm around him. "Hey, what's wrong?"

He snuggled into her side, crying softly, and she could only assume that he was sad to be going home following his dream week. Hoping it wouldn't turn into a full-fledged meltdown, she held him close and soothed him in her best comforting mom-voice, watching the city pass them by and wondering, for just the shortest of moments, if maybe she really could consider coming here to live.

But the thought was short-lived. David's crying stopped before they reached the airport, and she supposed that it was the start to everything officially going back to normal.

And she had a bad feeling that normal wouldn't quite cut it anymore.

* * *

Bucky watched the cab disappear among identical vehicles as they cruised down the street, staring at the point where it had vanished until a sleek, long, black car slid to a smooth halt directly in front of where he was standing.

His attention snapped to the car, eyeing it suspiciously, until a hand lightly clapped his shoulder from behind. He turned to find Steve gesturing to the car. "Ready?"

Bucky nodded, taking a step back and waiting for Steve and Natasha to enter the vehicle first. She took the front seat, Steve took the back, and then Bucky sat next to him, closing the door and crossing his arms as the car started back up. He stared at the driver, some nondescript guy in a suit, and he found that he was not fond of being driven in a car by a stranger, regardless of if he knew who had sent the man or not.

"So, to warn you," Steve began as the car began its trek through the city, "Stark has this... artificial intelligence. It runs the tower, and it talks constantly and knows who everybody is, asks you questions, anything you can imagine. Nobody warned me my first time there, so I kind of... got scared the first time I heard it."

"Which was classic," Natasha added from the front seat.

"I'm sure," Steve rolled his eyes. "Anyway, I'm just giving you a heads up."

Bucky nodded, more concerned with other thoughts like if if was really a good idea to be living in a tower owned by a man whose parents he had personally murdered years ago. He understood that logically, as Steve had explained days earlier, the tower was the most secure building in the city, an ideal place for them to live and use as a base during the hunt for HYDRA, but that didn't help Bucky understand why Stark would allow him to stay there in the first place. He had never even met the man, but surely Stark knew what Bucky had done.

"You know," Steve added, "if she came around to the idea, I could ask Stark for a favor and see if he could get Summer a job. He's got tons of employees, and I'm sure he could find her something. Then she could move here. If she wanted to."

Bucky side-glanced at him, and before he could reply, Natasha sighed and asked, "Really, Steve?"

"What?" he asked with a shrug.

"You might want to stop and think first before you put a single mother and her little boy directly in the middle of all of this."

"It would be her decision. I'm not forcing anyone to do anything," Steve replied.

"All I'm saying is that she might be better off where she is."

Bucky glanced at Steve, wishing that the woman in the front seat would just go away with her inconvenient truths and willingness to speak them.

It was awhile before Bucky spoke, but eventually, he did. "She isn't safe there."

"She's safer there than she would be here," Natasha replied.

Steve sighed, interjecting, "Look, in the end, it's up to her. I've still got her house being watched. HYDRA's not gonna get to her."

Bucky wished he could believe that, but unfortunately, he found it hard to believe that anyone - himself included - was truly safe from HYDRA. But before he could express that, everything suddenly got rather dark, and he realized that they'd driven underground.

He tensed with an immediate sense of claustrophobia and unease, which Steve noticed. "It's all right. We're going in from under. It's the least conspicuous way in."

They drove through a tiny tunnel that led to another one, then another one, and eventually opened to an equally tiny clearing that contained only a lone set of metal doors. Still feeling distinctly on edge, Bucky's eyes swept over the dark cavern as the others filed out of the car, lingering behind them as they all walked to the doors, which apparently housed an elevator.

He was about one second from jumping back into the car and hightailing it out of there when the doors opened with a ding and a mechanic, distinctly British, voice sounded from within. "Welcome back Captain Rogers, Ms. Romanoff."

Bucky's eyes widened a little, but having been prepared for it, his mostly boring reaction to the AI left Natasha a bit disappointed that he hadn't jumped and yelped the way that Steve had his first time hearing it.

"JARVIS," Steve replied, returning the disembodied voice's greeting as he stepped into the elevator. Natasha followed, then the driver, and once Bucky got inside, the doors closed and the smooth ride up began.

"Good morning, Sergeant Barnes. My name is JARVIS and I will assist you in any way that I can during your stay here at Stark Tower."

Bucky looked up at the elevator roof narrowing his eyes slightly as Natasha grinned next to him. "Is it... an electronic butler, or..."

"Not exactly, sir. I run the security and communications within the building, and I have many other functions that I do not have time to list during this elevator ride."

At his lingering confused expression, Steve nudged Bucky and said, "In other words, he can't bring you a drink, but he'll tell you where to go find one."

"Essentially correct, Captain."

Masking how bizarre he thought it was, Bucky nodded and kept his features as blank as possible. A slight glance to his left alerted him to the driver watching him from the corner of his eye. He then turned his head fully towards the man and stared at him, almost enjoying the way the driver tensed just enough to be noticeable and swallowed nervously.

Then the doors dinged open, and before them was a sprawling, open room, filled with very modern couches and chairs and a paper-thin television the size of a theater screen. The walls were nearly all made of windows, and all at once, it felt too open and too closed. It was as strange as the robotic voice currently explaining to them that this was the floor that Tony Stark had ordered to be prepared for Steve and himself.

He followed Steve out of the elevator, stepping out on to the smooth flooring and looking to his right, seeing a rather large kitchen area there, all stainless steel and marble counters and weird gadgets whose functions he was clueless of. Ahead, on either side of the room, were two hallways, which presumably led to bedrooms that would probably be equally as weird as this room.

He ended up wandering to the windows, stopping just short of them and staring out at the city laid out before his eyes. It was so enormous, so huge, so different from what little could remember of it, just like everything else. It was one thing seeing it from the window of the apartment he'd just left and quite another to see it like this. But, something from somewhere inside his head told him that this was not the first time he was seeing the city like this, that he had seen it in its current state before, also from a high vantage point, but he actively tried to repress the burgeoning memory. Whatever it was, wherever it was from, he didn't want it.

Then there was the sound of the elevator dinging again, and an energetic, unfamiliar male voice filled his ears.

"Ah, Capsicle! You made it! Hey, Red. Didn't know you were tagging along."

"I'm not staying. Not yet anyway."

"Bummer. So, how come nobody called me during that mess in D.C.? Everybody forget about me? I could have helped."

Bucky tensed slightly as he listened to the conversations carrying on behind him, but he kept his eyes on the city.

"Well, no offense," Steve answered, "but I didn't know who to trust. It was a... rough week."

"Well, no HYDRA here. Not anymore, anyway. Found out I had a few rats on the payroll here, but the FBI's got 'em now. Did JARVIS give you the grand tour yet? Where's... oh. There he is."

Since the room had suddenly gone dead silent and Bucky could feel three pairs of eyes on him, he finally turned around. When his eyes landed on Tony Stark, his blood ran cold. It was like staring at a ghost, one that he was personally responsible for, and not one that he had any interest in facing.

For his part, Tony didn't seem any more fond of the moment. His previously jovial expression fell instantly into a blank, mildly vacant stare. It wasn't hostile or hateful, simply empty, and Steve was glancing back and forth nervously between the two men.

"Remember, Stark," Natasha said, breaking the silence, "it's no different from what happened to Barton."

If Bucky had known who and what she was referring to, he would have known that she was, in her own way, sticking up for him, but as he didn't, the words went over his head.

"Yeah," Tony said, his stare unbroken. "Except Clint didn't kill my parents."

In some bizarre, nonsensical way, Bucky was almost relieved at the words being said out loud. Nothing was worse than being tiptoed around. Clearly, Stark wasn't one to tiptoe.

Finally, Tony exhaled and looked away, raking a hand through his hair. "Well. Now I need a drink. Anyone else want one?"

"It's... nine in the morning," Steve pointed out.

"Perfect time for orphans housing their parents' brainwashed killer to drink," Tony replied, heading for the elevator. "JARVIS, give them the tour."

And then, as soon as he'd come, he was gone. Steve let out a sigh, and Natasha shrugged. "That went well, considering," she said.

"Who's Barton?" Bucky asked, trying to process the last few moments.

"Clint Barton's an agent who was brainwashed into fighting against us during the invasion of New York a few years ago," Natasha replied. "And a friend."

When Bucky seemed to want to ask more but didn't, Steve supplied, "He's better now. But it took him time."

Bucky nodded, knowing that Steve was trying to be helpful, and that even Natasha was. While one part of him was grateful, another part simply wanted, needed, to be alone now.

The strange British robot voice seemed to sense this. "Shall I begin the tour?"

Bucky's room ended up being way too large and way too open, one wall being made entirely of window, similar to the common room. He felt on edge the minute he walked into the room. What few belongings he had were in boxes, sitting innocently on the floor and waiting to be unpacked, all but swallowed up in the room's vastness.

Summer's home was relatively small, and Steve's apartment had been almost tiny. This one room was bigger than the entire apartment, and he stood there in the middle of it, scowling about this fact for longer than he cared to quantify. He supposed that he was used to living in small spaces. Since he'd lived in a cryo chamber for most of the last seventy years.

His breathing picking up a bit, he sat down on the edge of the bed - which was also huge - and closed his eyes, trying to recall what Dr. Connor said to do when he started feeling like this. _Breathe_. Focus on one thing at a time. Let the moment pass. Everything passes. Remain in control.

And that was how Steve found him, sitting uncomfortably straight on the edge of the bed, eyes closed and brows furrowed as he breathed in and breathed out. He tried to back away and make a silent exit, but Bucky had heard him approach before he'd even peeked inside the room.

"What?"

Steve stilled halfway out the door, eyes widening slightly in surprise. "Oh. Sorry. I uh... are you okay?"

How he was starting to loathe that question. Of course he wasn't, and who knew when he would be? "The room's too big."

Steve looked around and then inclined his head. "Yeah, it's pretty big. I can see if there's a smaller one we can move you into, or -"

"The very last room at the end of this hallway is approximately half the size of this one, sir," JARVIS helpfully supplied from overhead.

Steve smiled. "Well then. Want to go?"

Bucky nodded and stood, then frowned at the ceiling and asked, "Is there a way to turn that thing off?"

"Only Mr. Stark can turn me off, Sergeant, but if you would prefer, I can adhere to the 'speak when spoken to' protocol in your room."

"Yeah. Do that," Bucky said, looking around, trying to pinpoint where exactly the thing's speakers were.

"Certainly, sir."

"And don't call me Sergeant."

"Would Mr. Barnes be more to your liking?"

"... I guess."

The room at the end of the hallway ended up being much better than the first one, and he didn't have to fight to breathe normally within it. By the time that he was settled in and alone once more, he found himself sitting on the edge of another bed, a slightly smaller one, and as he wondered exactly what would happened now, he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. His gloves, which he hadn't thought to take off yet, got slightly in the way as he reached for it, so he discarded them first before pulling the phone free and looking at the screen.

_Landed safely. Miss me yet?_

He stared at the text, panicking a little bit at the prospect of having to send something back. But, this was apparently how he was going to keep in touch with her, and he was going to have to figure it out.

What would he say if she were in front of him, asking him this question? He thought for a moment, then realized he wouldn't say anything at all. He would grab her and kiss her. And that was not helpful to his current predicament.

After staring blankly at his phone for an embarrassingly long time, he eventually managed to type out a single underwhelming word in response with his one hand that the touchscreen would cooperate with. _Yes_.

He immediately winced after he sent it. Even for an out of touch ex-assassin who had never texted before, he knew it was a terrible reply, but words weren't exactly his strong suit. This may end up being harder than he originally anticipated.

Then she replied, with one word of her own - _Good_. Then he squinted, examining the text more closely. Was that... a tiny yellow face blowing a kiss?

Then the phone buzzed again. _I miss you too_. After that, his eyes darted back to the little kissy face symbol, and as he continued to analyze it, a small smile bloomed across his lips.

She was ridiculous. And he really did miss her already.

* * *

A day later, across the country in California, a pale, red-haired doctor named Paul McAdams was trying his best to pry his two-year-old twin girls from his legs so that he could successfully escape his zoo of a house for a 24 hour shift at the city hospital. They giggled and only held on tighter the more he protested, taking ridiculously slow steps across his bedroom floor, looking at his wife sitting in front of her laptop and pleading, "Sarah! Help! These little boogers won't let go!"

"Welcome to my world," she replied with disinterest, scrolling through what he could see was some celebrity gossip site or another. "Ew. I can't believe I ever had a crush on John Travolta."

Paul rolled his eyes, trying to shake one girl off his legs and succeeding only in making her and her twin laugh all the more. "Who cares about John Travolta? Well, guess I'm just gonna have to stick these kids in a backpack and take them with me around all those sick, sneezing, coughing people..."

"Uh huh, sure."

Sighing again, Paul rolled his eyes and looked down at the girls. "I'll bring home candy tomorrow if you guys let go."

Immediately, the little girls released their death grips on his legs and reached up to give him hugs goodbye. After smushing them to death with hugs and kisses, he hurried across the room to kiss his wife goodbye.

"Why can't Captain America turn up here in Cali?" Sarah mused as he kissed her on the cheek, glancing at her laptop screen. There was a set of photos with headlines exclaiming that Cap was spotted in NYC the previous morning, and that it appeared that he'd found himself a girlfriend.

"Aw, Cap found a girl," Paul said, watching her scroll down. "You know they say that he's a... 95 year old... vir-... what the _hell_?!"

"What?"

Suddenly, Paul's hand sprang forward and batted hers away from the touchpad, then frantically scrolled up on a picture Sarah had just passed. It was a picture of the superhero signing stuff for fans, one clearly taken by one of the fans due to how close the photo was, and behind the Captain was a woman and a little boy. The image was a bit blurry, but the two figures were extremely familiar.

Stabbing at the left button, he quickly scrolled down to the picture of the woman hugging him, which was a much clearer picture, and his jaw dropped upon further inspection.

Sarah leaned in closer to the screen and widened her eyes. "That looks like... is that... your _sister_?"

He couldn't reply, because his jaw was still quite on the floor and was possibly stuck there forever. Yes, there was a lot of moderately tall brunette women in the world, but there was no mistaking who he was looking at. He was looking at his sister hugging Steve Rogers. His sister, who had just spent a week in New York visiting a semi-boyfriend that she refused to name and was incredibly secretive about. Suddenly, it all made sense.

And that phone call from two nights before where she had made some extremely disconcerting noises while trying to get off the phone as quickly as possible was now at least ten times more disturbing now that he had the name that would be going on the tombstone.

"How did she even meet him?" Sarah marveled. "And why wouldn't she tell you about him? I am so confused."

Taking out his phone and hurriedly looking up the photos on his mobile browser so that he could send them to the sister in question, Paul declared, "Oh, Summer. You are so... incredibly... busted."

* * *

Summer brought two things home with her from New York: a week's worth of memories that made her brain melt, and, thanks to the festering, germy cesspools of pestilence that were commercial airplanes, a raging case of the flu that she almost immediately passed to David. As a result, she spent her first morning that she woke up back in her own bed trying not to vomit and laying half-dead in it with her equally miserable little boy while they watched Disney movies.

She had awoken to the sound of an incoming text, which was from Bucky, whose sense of humor was apparently growing a bit. He'd sent her a very detailed description of what he'd had for breakfast, and it had made her smile and laugh before puking into the bowl she had next to her bed.

So much for the flu shot she'd gotten two months ago.

Since then, she had been in and out of it, forcing herself to get up and do the things she had nobody else to help her with, like wash out the gross bowl and get bottles of water from the fridge, then crawl back into bed and spend the next hour recovering from her efforts. Currently, she was half-watching Aladdin and mentally vowing to bathe in hand sanitizer the next time she travelled, and the pain in her head multiplied when her brother's ringtone blared in her ear.

Answering the call and draping the phone over her ear, she groaned incoherently. "Hnnngghhh."

"You are busted. Busted. You hear me? _Busted_."

"Okay, I'm busted. Now can I hang up and go back to dying in peace?"

"What's wrong with you? You sound like death."

"Flu," she muttered miserably.

"Oh. Fun. Well, anyway, you're busted."

"Cool."

"Do you realize that there's pictures on the Internet of you hugging your secret boyfriend in front of a cab in New York City?"

Her eyes shot fully open, and for a moment, the flu could just go to hell. She shot up with a rush of panicked adrenaline and half-yelled, "What?!"

"Yep. Ergo, busted."

She blinked rapidly, trying to make her brain function through the sudden panic and the giant headache she'd already had. "Uh..."

... Why would pictures of her and Bucky be all over the Internet? He'd been covered up. Not a single picture or lead from him had turned up online since he'd first showed up at her doorstep (and she had checked many times), so why suddenly now? Who could have recognized him?

"Why on earth did you think you had to hide dating Captain America from me?"

She blinked.

Oh.

_Crap_.

Well, at least that made more sense. Except whoever had snapped the photos - probably one of those kids who had been mauling Steve - must have missed when she'd had her tongue down Bucky's throat in literally the exact same spot only a few minutes later.

"Hellooo?"

She sighed, flopping back down to the bed. "I am not dating Captain America."

"Really, Summer? I have photographic evidence. You can't lie your way out of this one."

"Since when does a hug automatically mean dating?"

"It doesn't. Your secrecy and weirdness plus the hug means dating."

She groaned. "I'm not dating him."

"So you just ran into him on the street and said 'oh, Cap, you're my hero!' and decided to hug it out?"

"Maybe."

"All right. I'm putting my foot down. You've got to give me something here. Come on. You owe me that much."

She shook her head, realizing that he was right, to a point. She had to tell him something now. But she still couldn't tell him everything. "Fine. I'm dating his friend."

"Summer..."

"I'm telling the truth," she muttered. "I am."

"If that's true then why wouldn't you just tell me that to begin with?!"

She paused. "Because he's a... complicated friend."

"Famous friend?"

She hesitated. "Uh..."

"Thor? That guy with the wings? Tony Stark? The dude with the arrows? My God, if you're dating the Hulk -"

"None of them," she replied.

"Then who?!"

"I still can't tell you."

The muffled sound that she heard across the line sounded like Paul tearing his hair out. "I'm seriously about to freak out. How did you even meet this guy? And Captain America? What the hell?!"

"It's a long story."

"So?!"

She sighed and tried to sink down far enough into the bed in the hopes that it would swallow her up and give her an excuse to hang up. "I told you, I can't tell you much yet."

"Yeah, well, I think it's time to spill."

She paused, nausea creeping back up her throat. She swallowed it down but scooted closer to the edge of the bed closest to the bowl on the floor. "I'm dating a guy who happens to be friends with Steve Rogers. But it's complicated and I can't tell you everything yet. And you need to trust me and leave me alone about it."

"What, is he a spy or something? Is that why you won't tell me?"

"Maybe. Would that make you calm down and understand?"

"No. I don't want you dating a spy!"

She growled in frustration. "You're making my headache worse."

"How old is he?"

She stared for a moment. Of course, he was technically nearing 100 in a few years, but what was he in terms of actually lived years? "Twenty... eight... ish?" she guessed, basing her answer purely off looks because she had no clue how to calculate the actual answer.

"You don't even know how old he is?"

"I'm hanging up," she muttered, fighting another wave of nausea.

"Yeah, okay. Just keep in mind that the Internet thinks you're Captain America's mysterious new love interest."

Yep. Definitely gonna puke any minute. "Screw me."

"I hope he didn't. Whoever you're actually with."

She shook her head. "Not yet. Put your shotgun away."

He made a scoffing sound. "Oh no. Shotgun is permanently out now. How did you even get yourself into this situation?"

"I don't know," she half-wailed before succumbing to the nausea and throwing up again.

"Sure it's the flu and not morning sickness?"

Narrowing her eyes as she tried to catch her breath, she shakily held the phone to ear and muttered, "Go jump off a cliff."

For the first time during the conversation, Paul laughed. "You seriously sound like such hell."

"You're making it worse."

"Fine, I'll let you go. But my interrogation isn't over. Not by a longshot. I'm getting to the bottom of this."

She really hoped not. The truth wouldn't be all that hard to figure out. There was more than enough online about the mysterious and, according to those infamous leaked SHIELD/HYDRA files, not-dead Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier to figure out that he certainly fit the description of a complicated friend of Steve's.

After hanging up at last, Summer groaned and curled up into a ball under the covers. If she turned into some kind of Internet celebrity from all of this, she'd give herself permission to melt down then. She didn't have the energy to do it now.

She did, however, Google the photos, cringe at the highly presumptuous headlines, and then burrow back into her cocoon of covers with a miserable groan.

* * *

"Well. That's awkward."

Steve, chewing a very loud mouthful of a cereal so fortified with protein that it made cardboard look appealing, leaned forward across the table and peered down at the phone that Natasha had just slid to him. She watched in amusement as his eyebrows slowly rose up as he scrolled down.

"So I hug someone and that automatically means we're in a relationship," Steve sighed, swallowing and pushing the phone back to her.

"Of course," Natasha grinned. "And your adoring fans don't even know her name yet, but they're already posting death threats addressed to her."

He almost choked. "Death threats?"

"Mmhmm. If you kept up with your legion of female fans, you'd know that this isn't out of the ordinary. They're very specific about who they would approve you being in a relationship with. And they get very offended if a rumor pops up of you being with an undesireable."

Steve looked a little dumbfounded before eventually asking, "But they don't have her name?" When Natasha nodded, he added, "Good."

"Where's your trusty sidekick? Still in his room?" Natasha asked, leaning back in her seat.

"No, he woke up before me. I heard JARVIS telling him where the gym was so I assume that's where he is."

"Your assumption is correct, sir," JARVIS unexpectedly confirmed, and Steve jumped a little bit with his spoon halfway to his mouth.

Natasha smirked gleefully. "All this time and JARVIS still manages to startle you?"

Steve sighed and muttered, "Some things never stop being weird."

Her brief silence agreed with his statement. "He seems to be adjusting well to modern technology. Probably better than you did."

"I figured he would," Steve shrugged. "He liked that stuff when we were kids. Science and inventions, that sort of thing."

"While you doodled in your notebooks?" she asked with a small smile.

"Yep," Steve smiled back. Then he looked down, smile fading as he said, "I hope he doesn't mind the pictures."

"What pictures?"

They both looked up to see the man in question entering the common area, the damp state of his hair and clothes giving away just how long he'd been killing time at the gym. Steve had expected him to stay holed up in his room for at least a week before exploring the full contents of their floor, but apparently he'd been quite wrong about that.

"These pictures," Natasha replied, tossing her phone across the room towards him. He caught it effortlessly with his right hand.

His expression remained blank but darkened ever so slightly as he scrolled through the photos. After a few minutes where nobody spoke, he looked up and asked, "Her name... do they..."

"No," Steve assured him. "And they won't get it. Don't worry about it. Everyone will forget about the pictures in a few days. And the good thing is you're not in any of them."

Bucky nodded, tossed the phone back to Natasha, then made a beeline for his room.

Steve glanced at Natasha, then shrugged. "Well. Guess I had nothing to worry about."

But, after Bucky made the short trek to the end of the hall and shut his door behind him, he perched on the foot of his bed and felt... strange. At first he couldn't figure out exactly what the feeling was. It wasn't jealousy, because he had no reason to be jealous. No, it was something less intense than that, something... annoying.

There it was. He was annoyed.

He grabbed his phone and saw that Summer had already texted him about the issue. _Seen the pictures yet?_

As was becoming the norm, his reply was underwhelming. _Yep_.

But a simple "yep" wasn't good enough. Something else was trying to form into a coherent thought, a string of words that would express the odd things that he was feeling in that moment,

She lived in seclusion, yes, and her life in Virginia was fairly sheltered thanks to her son and his situation. But she would encounter other men from time to time. Whether she acknowledged it or noticed it at all, some of those men would find her attractive. For whatever reason, seeing a photo of the entirely non-threatening Steve hugging her had made him realize this.

Maybe she'd encounter a man who had all of his limbs and memories intact and didn't live in fear of accidentally killing her if he got too carried away with her. Maybe meeting such a man would make her realize how stupid she had been to get involved with Bucky in the first place.

And it was this idea that led Bucky to another sudden realization. If he was Steve, he would probably accept such a scenario due to the fact that the woman in question would be much safer and probably happier with someone simple and uncomplicated, and thus let her go, maybe even encourage her to go. He was selfless like that.

And maybe, in other situations, Bucky would be selfless too. Maybe even in most, though he really had no idea yet. But, when it came to this particular situation and this particular hypothetical scenario, and this particular woman, he realized that he was actually quite selfish.

He barely noticed his right hand typing out a new, short text and then hitting send, too busy trying not to be startled at the thoughts suddenly rattling through his head. It probably wasn't normal to want to go march into her house down in Virginia, throw her over his shoulder and then hide her away from the rest of the male population in his room like a caveman. Or was it? Was this how he had felt before over girls that he liked, back before everything went to hell? Was it a major overreaction, considering the fact that he didn't currently have competition for her affections?

Or maybe it was just that night in the hotel bathroom continuing to wreak havoc with his brain and... other things.

He ran his metal hand through his hair, phone dangling from his other one not particularly enjoying this form of torture. At first, it had been an exquisite relief to reclaim his physical instincts, desires that had been beyond his reach and denied him for decades, and it had been an awakening as significant as any other. But now, after just a week spent in her company, and that one particular night, it was as painful and frustrating as it was pleasant. More so now that she was gone.

He needed to figure out a way to get her to New York, permanently. For a lot of reasons. The only question was how.

* * *

After reading Bucky's eloquent "yep" response, Summer reminded herself to be patient with him and his texts as she sat up and forced herself to take a few sips of water. David was knocked out next to her on the bed, thanks to medicine, and she felt her own dose start kicking in after she laid back down and closed her eyes. Sleeping seemed like a great idea, especially after she'd made the mistake of going back to the Internet and reading the comments currently posted on the sites her picture with Steve was posted on.

Apparently, she was fat, ugly, old (_old?!_), wholly unworthy to even breathe the same air as Captain America, and needed to do the world a favor and kill herself. And those were some of the milder comments.

Not that she took it personally. She knew how girls were, specifically the ones who fixated over unattainable men and went way overboard with it online. But it wasn't exactly a confidence booster either.

Her phone buzzed, and she opened slightly bleary eyes to swipe her lock screen and read it. She had to blink away her suddenly blurry vision a few times to get a clear view of the two-word text.

_You're mine_.

The electric little flutters that shot through her stomach made it hurt a little bit more than it already was, but the pain was totally worth it. She read over the two simple words as many times as it took for the message to fully sink in, and when it did, she couldn't help but grin.

She was friends with Captain America. Natasha Romanoff's hair clip was in her purse. Thor complimented her on her cake-making skills. And a disgustingly attractive soldier/war hero/recovering assassin with eyes like two hurricanes had just sent her a text expressing a level of possessiveness that was as awesome as it was brand new.

In other words, she had the life that all of those angry Internet girls could only wish for.

And she was his.

Her reply text encompassed exactly how she felt in that moment. _Hell yeah._

**A/N: Okay, first of all, you guys are the best. Thank you guys so much for this week's reviews and your support! It means so much to me, and I am incredibly grateful to have awesome readers like you. You're just the best. :D Not much else to say today because I'm super busy, but I wanted to make sure I got this update out, so let me know what you guys think, and as always, big hugs and love from me :D see you all next week :D**


	6. Chapter 6

_45 days later_

"So," Dr. Connor said, glancing at his notes that lay on his desk, "tomorrow you leave for D.C.."

Bucky nodded, unconsciously tapping his foot against the floor. The doctor now made house calls twice a week, and their sessions took place in an unoccupied office space near the basement level of Stark Tower. It was better than a closed butcher shop, if nothing else.

"Are you anxious about your first mission since remembering yourself?"

"No," Bucky lied, the foot tapping alone a giveaway of his dishonesty.

"Not anxious at all?"

Bucky withheld a burdened sigh and muttered, "I know you don't approve. There's no point in talking about it."

"It's not that I disapprove," the doctor said with a slight shake of his head. "I am simply... concerned that perhaps it would be best if you had a bit more time to prepare."

"I've been preparing for six months. I have been sitting around every day, talking to you twice a week, waiting for this to finally happen," Bucky pointed out. "There's no point in sitting around and waiting longer. I'm sick of it."

"I don't doubt it, but I don't want you going into this situation with unrealistic expectations of yourself."

Bucky scoffed, something he wouldn't have done a few months ago. These days, he didn't hesitate to express his annoyance or frustration with the well-meaning therapist in sometimes colorful ways. "Like what?"

"Well, firstly, you have to realize that this mission places you in a vulnerable position. You recall the last mission that you undertook, when you were still under HYDRA's control."

Bucky blinked and narrowed his eyes a little. "What's that have to do with -"

"Returning to the field places you in danger of temporarily reverting back to a state that would not be productive to your recovery."

"You think I'm gonna snap and forget everything again."

"No," the doctor shook his head. "I didn't say that. But the potential triggers you may encounter could affect your judgment and ability to think clearly. I want you to have a clear plan in place for what to do if this happens. You need to be able to take yourself out of the situation as quickly as possible." When Bucky had nothing to say to this, he added, "Consider for a moment if, after entering the location, you find a room containing equipment similar to the kind they used to maintain you and wipe your memories. What do you think your reaction would be?"

Bucky looked away for a moment. Pure, unadulterated, unchecked rage would be the most accurate answer, if he had to guess. "What's your point?"

"My point is, you should not underestimate the dangers of what you're about to do."

A moment passed where Bucky mulled over the doctor's words, unable to ignore the truth of them but finding a different truth to be of higher importance. "I don't know how to do anything else."

The doctor nodded. "Yes."

"And I want revenge."

"Of course."

"So I have to do this."

The doctor nodded. "And I understand that. But your revenge has to come second to the mission's objectives. You cannot forget that."

"I know," Bucky muttered in annoyance.

A brief silence passed, and then the doctor said, "I also want you to be sure to give yourself a break should something happen that you cannot control. This is a very serious situation and though you are currently quite stable and doing well, the balance is very delicate. And there's nothing wrong with that. Take this mission as a trial run."

Bucky nodded, his foot returning to mindlessly tapping on the floor.

"And I want you to take sleep meds the night before." Bucky opened his mouth to protest immediately, but the doctor raised his hand and added, "Two to four hours of sleep each night is not sufficient if you are going into the field. It isn't sufficient period, but it is especially dangerous for such a high-stress situation."

"The pills don't even work."

"There was one kind that did."

Bucky's eyes widened by a fraction. "They made the nightmares worse."

"I know. But I'm afraid it's worth the risk this time. I want you to take a dose the night before the mission."

Bucky's expression darkened and he tightened his jaw. That was not going to happen. The old man had no idea what those dreams had been like and therefore could shove that particular suggestion.

"Now," Dr. Connor sighed leaning back in his seat, "on a lighter note, can I safely assume that you will be paying your girlfriend a visit while you're in the area?"

Bucky blinked at the word "girlfriend", the weirdly juvenile connotation to it suddenly making him feel like he was sixteen at a soda fountain with some giggling girl. Then he blinked again, wondering where that particular thought came from. "Yeah."

"And how is that going?"

"It would be better if she lived here."

"But it's going well?"

Bucky shrugged to the affirmative. He'd had over a month to get used to texting as a means of keeping in touch with her daily, and it was still weird, but the alternative - talking on the phone - made him want to panic if he considered it. And apparently the feeling was mutual. So, they stuck to texting, and he nearly always let her pick what they spoke about. Topics ranged from the mundane to strange (what the hell were Internet memes and why did she think an angry cat was so amazing?) to mildly titillating, but the conversations spanned his full day and gave him something to do and enjoy free of pressure.

Then, a few weeks after she went back home, he worked up the nerve to badger her into sending him a picture. She spent the better part of the day protesting before finally giving in, sending a picture of herself with her face hidden behind her hand. He didn't complain because he could see her smiling behind her fingers, and when she tried to make him send one back, he got out of it by claiming that doing so would be a security risk, and she unhappily gave up after awhile.

And she still bugged him for a French-to-English translation at least once a week. He still wouldn't give it.

Maybe he finally would, after surprising her with his visit the next day.

"Do you have any questions or concerns you'd like to share?" Dr. Connor asked, straightening up his notes. "These next few days will be a pretty big step for you."

Bucky stared at the man for a moment and then asked quietly, "Do you think I'm gonna screw it up?"

The doctor drew a breath and replied, "I think that as long as you pay close attention to yourself and your reactions during the mission, and remember what you've learned during our sessions, you will do just fine. Better than fine, if your skills are what your files say they are."

Dr. Connor smiled at the last part, but Bucky's expression remained serious as he said, "I can tell Steve's afraid of me losing it or not being able to handle it. I don't think he wants me to go at all."

"I have no doubt that he is reluctant to see you face HYDRA," the doctor agreed. "But put yourself in his shoes. The last time the two of you were on a mission together, against the very same enemy, to be blunt, he watched you die."

Uncomfortably vivid flashes of that very moment raced behind his eyes, but Bucky forced them away as he glanced down at the floor. "I have to do it."

"And surely he understands that. Otherwise he would have objected to your coming along."

Bucky nodded, and both men sat in silence for a few moments. Then the doctor asked a question. "Do _you_ think that you will screw up?"

On one hand - looking at the situation tactically - the answer was no. His mind and body had been itching for the chance to finally put their skills to use against the people that had both saved and mutilated him, and the chances of him actually screwing anything up was minimal. Storming an underground HYDRA base near D.C. was relatively basic. However, the mental strain of it all was what made him slightly wary. The worries that Steve tried (and failed) to hide behind smiles weren't something he could ignore, and the worries were far from unfounded.

"No," he finally replied.

He could do it, and he would. Otherwise, he'd lose one of the biggest pieces of what made him something, someone, and the thought of that was too frightening to consider.

He'd be fine.

* * *

Later, Bucky sat across from Steve at the table near the kitchen of their common living room, both silent and both staring at phones that they held with their arms resting on top of the table.

Steve was trying not to smirk as he typed on his phone, which meant that he was talking to Natasha, whose current whereabouts Bucky was not aware of. Bucky, meanwhile, was typing with his right hand, talking to the only other person in his phone besides Steve, and to his left stood the newest resident of their floor, watching the both of them with his arms crossed and a mock serious look on his face.

Neither of them paid much attention to Sam Wilson pondering the spectacle of two very technically old men sitting on their phones and texting like two modern teenagers, one who was slightly emo and the other who would have made the dorkiest jock in high school history. His eyes went from the stupidly-grinning Steve to Bucky's deadpan expression, then flitted back and forth before he couldn't take it anymore.

"You both know you're too old for this, right?" Sam said, making both men briefly glance up at him. He looked at Steve and added, "I mean, you look like a teenage girl texting selfies to her boyfriend, and you -" he glanced at Bucky, "I don't even know what's going on there, but -"

Steve gestured to Bucky and explained, "He's got a girlfriend."

Bucky glared at Steve and Sam raised his eyebrows. "You have a girlfriend?"

Steadily ignoring both of them, Bucky lowered his phone slightly while he waited for a reply from Summer. Sam took a seat at the table, between the two of them, and wondered aloud, "No offense or anything, but how is it that you have a girl and I don't?"

Bucky was on the cusp of very sarcastically answering the rhetorical question when Steve stole his moment and replied, "You remember the girl we picked him up from?"

"Same girl?" Sam asked, to which Steve nodded. "So those were hickeys on her neck! I knew it."

Bucky rolled his eyes. Steve shrugged and remarked, "If you knew him like I do, that wouldn't have surprised you."

Sam chuckled, then asked, "Hey, that Natasha chick - still talk to her?"

Steve glanced up and replied neutrally, "Yep."

"She single?" Sam grinned.

Now it was Bucky's turn to thwart Steve's response. "Who do you think he's giggling about?"

Sam glanced at Bucky and then at Steve with eyebrows raised even more than before. "Seriously?"

Steve smiled and kept his eyes on his phone. "Yeah."

"Damn," Sam sighed, throwing an arm on the back of his chair. "I guess the whole unfrozen super soldier thing must be a real turn on for the ladies. Tough market to get in on."

"Well, I'm sure there's one for a soldier with his own personal pair of actual wings," Steve replied with a grin.

"Oh, you mean the wings that he ripped off like they were made of plastic?" Sam asked, pointing to Bucky with his thumb, who glowered at the mention and stared so hard at his phone it was a wonder that it didn't shatter.

"The ones Stark made you are more durable," Steve shrugged. "He was happy to make them, by the way. Said he's been bored since he gave up his suits, so it gave him something to tinker with."

Bucky couldn't quite pinpoint why listening to the two men chat was grating on his nerves, but he began to suspect after awhile that it was the ease with which they spoke. It must have been the way two friends spoke when one of them hadn't once tried to kill the other with their bare hands.

He wasn't sure anybody spoke to him with that kind of ease. And the more he thought about it, the more it bothered him, which started to piss him off, because he didn't want it to bother him.

Steve, as earnest and heartfelt as he was, still acted like Bucky was a ticking timebomb sometimes, which wasn't something he could be faulted for, but still, the sort of casual laughing and chatting currently tickling at Bucky's ears was not something that ever happened between them. Bucky was still learning how to laugh again, and both he and Steve were still learning who he was after all of the unwanted events that had irrevocably changed him.

And that had never bothered him until he sat there and listened to Steve and Sam joke about girls and cars and whatever else came up after he intentionally tuned them out. Luckily, a distraction came before he could also detect a twinge of jealousy within himself and really start rolling his eyes at his own irrationality.

During Sam's initial interruption, Bucky had sent Summer a text asking what she was doing, which never got a very exciting answer but usually led to one conversation or another. This time, she answered with a picture. She was outside, on what looked like a park bench, most of her hair back in a ponytail that was dusted with fallen snowflakes, and she had a rather goofy look on her flushed face as she licked an ice cream cone held in a gloved hand. The words under the picture read,_ Ice cream in the snow because we're idiots._

Completely ignoring the words, he stared at the picture, unaware of how his mouth was falling open slightly until he snapped it shut and put the phone down with a sigh. He couldn't decide if she was diabolical or just clueless what his brain would immediately do with that image.

He looked up and noticed both Steve and Sam watching him curiously. He narrowed his eyes. "What?"

"Everything okay?" Steve asked.

"Why?" he snapped in reply.

"Your face," Sam replied. When Bucky turned his annoyed gaze on him, he shrugged and said, "Little red, that's all."

He decided then that Sam was only marginally less annoying than Natasha. He stood up without a word to go to his room and be alone with his frustration. Later he would choose to look on the bright side; by that time tomorrow, he would be in Summer's very surprised company, and a few days after that, he'd be hopefully picking off HYDRA agents, which meant that it would probably be the best week that he'd had in awhile.

After he left the room, Sam glanced at Steve and said, "He's a blast."

Steve shrugged and replied, "We're getting there."

* * *

_One day later_

Long distance was, well, a word she wouldn't say in front of her son but one that she'd grumble angrily into her pillow each night.

It had only been a month and a half since she had left New York, but it felt like much longer, and the distance was starting to get to her and make her do things. Things that seemed brilliant at the time but then instantly made her cringe after she did it. Like send Bucky innocently suggestive pictures - well, one picture - that he apparently had zero reaction to.

He had replied to her ice cream picture about twenty minutes after she'd sent it with a disappointingly neutral, _Stay warm_.

She was an idiot. That was her inescapable fate.

While she fumbled through that part of her life with her usual ineptitude, the other parts continued on the same as they ever did. She was still broke, still in college, and still trying to make a few dollars where she could with her writing but mostly coming up short. Paul still harassed her on a nearly daily basis, his theories on her secret lover's identity reaching ridiculous new heights each day but by some miracle never quite getting it right. The only thing that really changed was how she passed her time, which was embarrassing all on its own.

She spent an inordinate amount of time analyzing every word exchanged between herself and Bucky, and if there was a picture involved, she'd give herself a headache overthinking it so hard. Then, when her frustration (physical as well as mental) would start to reach epic proportions, it would all end up spilling over into literary vomit on her laptop. Quite literally, she would write out half-conceived ramblings and feelings in her head in the form of sort-of short stories that she would instantly delete most of the time. It was embarrassing. But she didn't know how else to get out her feelings and not go insane.

And it was all his fault, the stupid beautiful fragmented man too far away to touch but close enough to want so badly it hurt.

Which was embarrassing, she was pretty sure, for being only forty six days into a long distance relationship. Not that she was counting.

In any case, that forty-sixth day found her going about her usual daytime cleaning ritual and worrying slightly due to the fact that she had not awoken to Bucky's customary hideously-early first text of the day. Now it was well into the afternoon, and she still hadn't heard from him. She told herself that he was surely just busy with something and would text her eventually, while she tried to focus on the bad 80's music playing on her phone and the floor that she was cleaning.

David was sitting on the floor in the living room, working on his newest hobby, which was taking all of his toys apart piece by piece before reassembling them. He was quite serious about it, his little tongue sticking out as he used a small screwdriver to take apart a rather large toy truck of his, and Summer would smile at his deep concentration every time she peeked at him before going on with her cleaning.

The music (and her terrible off-key singing) was loud enough that she didn't hear a car door open and shut outside in her driveway, and in fact, she kept right on singing along with Foreigner about wanting to know what love is until a knock on her door made her instantly freeze.

It was automatic - ever since that one particular night nearly six months ago, hearing a knock on her front door sent shivers of fear down her spine. But, since she wasn't a fan of living in fear, she quickly leaned the mop handle in her hand against the wall and tried to think of who it could be. Then she remembered that a package she'd ordered online was due to arrive soon, and she breathed a sigh of relief as she walked to the door, where her taser and a can of mace hung on the wall next to it, just in case.

Unlocking the door and pulling it open was easy. Remembering how to breathe afterwards was not, because the very last thing she expected to see was the very man who had been making her worry all day with his silence, standing there in the cold, dressed in that stupid leather jacket she hated and a black scarf bundled against his neck, his hands stuffed in the pockets of dark jeans as their eyes met and her jaw dropped so hard it nearly snapped in half.

Maybe he was a hallucination and she'd used too much bleach on the floor.

She blinked, but he was still there. Still looked perfect. As opposed to her sweatpants and unbrushed hair knotted on top of her head.

_Holy crap._

"Wh-... uh... wha-"

As she struggled to get a single coherent word out through her shock, something amazing happened. He smiled - widely, fully, happily - and then he took a step forward and she was suddenly in his arms. She threw hers around his neck and thought her pounding heart might explode as he kissed her soundly, turning her shock into pure heat that warmed her very fingertips despite her front door still being wide open and letting the wintry air inside.

He didn't seem to mind her unimpressive appearance in the least. There was metal at her back, pulling her as close as she could get, and flesh fingertips at the back of her head, tangled within her hair, and she couldn't breathe or think beyond his mouth as it devoured hers.

When he finally sucked in a breath of air, she drew one of her own and smiled as she brought her hands to his face, touching him like she expected him to vanish as suddenly as he'd appeared. "Why are you here? Why didn't you tell me you were coming? I've been worried all day because you haven't texted me!"

"Wanted to surprise you," he murmured, stopping her heart again with his stare before capturing her lips again. She had no defense and no desire for one, just questions that could be saved for later as she held on and kissed him back as he finally kicked the front door shut behind him.

Day forty six wasn't so bad, after all.

A thought occurred to her the next time he broke away to draw a breath. She'd seen a car in her driveway in that utterly shocking moment when she'd opened the door to find him on the other side. "How did you get here? Did you drive?" When he nodded she furrowed her brows and asked, "You know how to drive?"

His gaze shifted from heated and slightly dazed to mildly offended. "I can drive a lot of things."

To keep herself from smiling and making a stupid comment back to that, she then asked the next pressing question. "... That car isn't yours, is it?"

His only answer was a mere look before kissing her again, and she decided that she didn't really want to know anyway.

What led her to pry her lips away from his one more time was the sudden and unmistakable sensation of being watched. Her hands on his shoulders and his on her waist, she looked to her left and cursed very loudly in her head at the sight of little David, standing at the border of the living room and the kitchen, open-mouthed and quite shocked at what he was seeing. All he needed to do was drop the screwdriver in his hand to the floor and the moment would be complete.

_Plunk_. On cue, he dropped it, mouth still agape.

Well, he was bound to figure it out sooner or later anyway.

Bucky dropped his hands and Summer half-jumped away from him, smiling a little too widely and exclaiming, "David! Uh... look who came to visit!"

David looked at Bucky without closing his mouth, then looked back at his mother just before making a gross-out face and picking up the screwdriver. Then he turned around and walked back into the living room.

Well then. "Not how I planned on telling him, but okay. Could have been worse." She glanced at Bucky to find him still staring at her like she was some delectable beauty, and she touched her laughably bad hair before blushing and muttering, "I'm sorry - if I'd known you were coming I would have... showered... and... not worn this. Speaking of that, why are you here?"

He started to answer, but then Madonna started wailing about being like a virgin from her still-playing phone, and he furrowed his brows as he looked around for the source of the music.

"Uh... yeah, let me get that," she said, walking to the counter where her phone was docked and hurriedly turning it off. She also realized that Foreigner's ode to love had been serenading them during the whole dramatic scene a moment ago, and she thought that was absolutely classic. One just hadn't lived until they'd been kissed passionately by a guy dressed in leather to a cheesy 80's love song.

Then she turned back around and smiled. "So?"

"I'm here for... something."

"Something," she repeated. "Super top secret something?"

He shrugged. "I guess."

"Ah. So how long?"

"Couple days. I came early to see you."

She was disappointed and excited at the same time. A few days wasn't very long. But he'd gone out of his way to make more time with her. And that was something.

It was hard not to smile like an idiot. "I just wish you'd texted me. I'm a mother. I worry like one."

He looked a little surprised when she said that. "I didn't... sorry. I didn't think about that."

"It's okay," she smiled. "But I, uh... I should go change. And brush my hair. Yeah, I'll be right back."

She was so knocked out of her element and still completely thrown that as she made her way down the hall, tugging her hair down, that she was completely unaware of him following her and remained unaware until she walked into her room and was then suddenly pinned between her dresser and a hard chest. She let out a noise of surprise and then looked up just as he almost brutally claimed her lips again, making her whimper as her head spun from the way he kept surprising her.

All she could do was surrender, close her eyes and try to wrap her head around the fact that he was here, it wasn't her imagination, and that he was kissing her like it would physically pain him if he stopped.

When he did, he drew away only slightly, his forehead touching hers as he murmured, "I missed you."

How three, fairly common words made her insides flip and twist as they did, she didn't know, but she couldn't deny the way the sentiment warmed her from the inside out. She smiled, said it back to him, and then touched her lips to his one more time.

And when he finally let her go, a ghost of a smirk showing up on his lips as he left her to change and try to look more like a normal person, she sank back against her dresser and fought the urge to sink to the floor and melt into the carpet.

This must be what it felt like to be truly, genuinely, wanted.

_What a feeling._

With a new 80's hit successfully taking root in the soundtrack of her head, she pushed off the furniture and walked with slightly wobbly legs to her closet, grinning stupidly and enjoying every bit of it.

* * *

Being back at Summer's home was more surreal than he had anticipated it would be. Every inch of the house held a memory, some of them chilling and others rather pleasant, and he had not realized how truly far he had come until he stood where he had once been.

Back then, back when he'd wandered to this forest-hidden little house after leaving Steve half-dead on the shore in D.C., he hadn't known his name, how to think, how to eat, how to even remotely function as a human being and not a singularly-designed machine. Now he had a degree of independence that stood in stark contrast to what he had known before, and he was healthy again, cared for, and the voices in his head didn't scream as loudly as often as they had back then.

Living was still a struggle, and to a point, he expected it to always be one. But seeing how drastic of a change six months could bring was enough to spark some real hope inside of him for the future.

And what would have happened had he ended up face-down in front of any other home but this one all those months ago?

These thoughts swam calmly through his head as the day passed before his eyes entirely too quickly for his liking. He found that Summer's days were much the same as he remembered, structured for her son's sake and constantly busy very much purposefully. It only took David an hour or two of eyeing him suspiciously - surely due to having caught him kissing his mother for the first time - before the child warmed back up to him, by which time all of three of them were out in the cold to let David have his usual playtime outside. The boy's peace offering was two armfuls of snowballs that he used wild hand gestures and smiles to communicate his wish for Bucky to show off how far and hard his metal arm could hurl the things.

Summer stood beside him, bundled up in a coat much heavier than his but still freezing as she watched him take a few branches off of some far-away trees with the snowballs.

"I think you're defying physics at this point."

He glanced at her and gave a slight smirk. David was beside himself with how cool he obviously thought it was.

"So can you hit... that one tiny branch right there between the two big ones on that bigger tree?" she asked, pointing out the branch in question.

He looked at her incredulously. "Are you challenging my aim?"

She shrugged but smiled a little. "Well, it can't be perfect every single time."

He gave her a pointed look and then glanced forward before throwing one of the snowballs about half a second later. When it hit its target perfectly, he looked at her expectantly.

"Yeah, yeah," she shook her head, still smiling. "Got it. Perfect aim."

"How's yours?"

She looked up at him and paused before replying, "Well, with a snowball, I guess pretty average."

"I mean with a gun," he asked slightly more seriously.

"Oh. I don't know. Probably not that great. I'm not terrible, but..."

He already knew that she wasn't terrible, since he'd once watched her shoot a HYDRA agent through the shoulder. But, to ease his mind, he decided to make an offer. "I can help you with that. If you want."

She stared at him for a moment and then asked, "You mean like... target practice?"

He shrugged. "It's probably a good idea... just in case."

She didn't need any further elaborating, nodding just before he set off towards her house. "Where are you going?"

"Getting your gun," he replied over his shoulder, almost grinning at the way her eyebrows shot up.

"We're doing it now?!"

That time, he allowed himself to grin. A matter of minutes later, he had created a makeshift gun range in her backyard, placing variously sized aluminum cans and a few other random items he could find on a number of tree stumps and low-lying branches a safe distance away. Afterwards, he walked up to her and handed over her gun, which she took while shaking her head.

"This is gonna be so embarrassing," she sighed while he watched her fiddle with the weapon. "I haven't used this since..."

He nodded, not needing her to finish that sentence. He still had guilt over the fact that he had been the ultimate cause of that night. After he saw her shake the thoughts away, he said, "Try the biggest can first."

She made David go inside the house then, for the sake of being extra cautious, and then turned her gaze to her target as she turned the gun's safety off and raised it up. He stood slightly behind her, watching carefully and not saying a word, letting her shoot how she naturally would the first time around.

She pulled the trigger and missed, but not by much. She groaned and lowered the gun in frustration, but he took a step forward and said, "First of all, it's your stance."

"My what?" she asked, glancing back at him.

"Your stance," he said, gesturing to her legs that were too close together. "You need to widen it to steady yourself." She followed his instruction some, but then he leaned down and positioned her himself with a hand on the inside of her left leg, just above her knee.

He felt her stiffen at his touch, and after he straightened up and told her to raise the gun, his hands then took her shoulders and rolled them back as his breath intentionally brushed her ear. "Posture."

"Is this just an excuse to feel me up?" she asked a little shakily.

"I don't need an excuse for that," he pointed out as his hand reached out to cover hers as they clutched the gun tightly. "Don't hold it so tight. Relax your grip."

"Might be easier if you weren't literally breathing down my neck and saying... things," she replied, though she didn't seem to actually mind it much. She forced her hands to relax slightly.

"Learning under pressure helps," he replied. "Now aim and take a breath."

She did as he said, and he was only half-aware of his hand on her waist, serving absolutely no practical purpose. "Then breathe out and gently pull the trigger."

A fraction of a second later, the can flew off of the trunk with a satisfying ping, and Summer grinned and relaxed against him, making him realize how close he'd pressed himself to her. She glanced over her shoulder and said, "Thanks, teacher."

His lips curled to match hers, something inside stirring at the teasing title, and before he could let her proximity distract him, he gestured to the other cans and said, "Now try to do that again."

He then took a step back and watched as she hit the next can, and then the one after that as well, pleasantly surprising them both.

"So if I hit all these, what do I get? A reward?"

His gaze turned curious. "Like what?"

Glancing over her shoulder again, she replied, "A translation you still need to give me?"

Of course. He looked from her to the remaining three cans, then back at her, a tiny smirk appearing on his face. "All right."

Her eyes widening gave away the fact that she had not expected him to agree. Then she smiled and settled back to the task at hand, and he decided to be generous and not cheat by distracting her, which would have been exceptionally easy. Besides, she didn't specify when he had to give the translation, should she be successful.

The first of the last three cans was a success, and so was the second. The third and final one happened to be the smallest and furthest, and Summer took her time aiming and readying herself before she took the shot.

And it missed.

"Ugh! Are you kidding me?!" she exclaimed, lowering the now-empty gun and bemoaning the loss of her reward. Bucky could only grin at how she slouched her shoulders and turned around, looking at him slightly hopefully and asking, "A for effort?"

"You should keep practicing," he replied neutrally.

"Wanna pay for my replacement bullets, then?" she asked, eyebrow raised. "I can't exactly afford to make a habit out of this."

"I can get you more," he replied with a slight shrug.

She nodded, then smiled. "My long-distance boyfriend slash arms supplier and weapons trainer. That's hot."

He gave her an amused look and then threw an arm around her shoulders, a part of him still not used to such casual touches but another part wanting them as he guided her back inside the house before her little red nose froze and fell off. "Glad you think so."

He just wished that he didn't have to worry about her ability to defend herself in the first place.

* * *

_And that, dear son, is how one of the world's most feared assassins (and killer of one of our most beloved presidents) taught me how to be a better shot, while you watched from the living room window._

As Summer wrote her future autobiography in her head, she went about making dinner no different than she ever did, all the while wondering if she would ever stop thinking that all of this was completely bizarre. Totally awesome, but still bizarre. It was moments like these that made her wonder if finally coming clean to her brother could ever be anything but a gigantic disaster.

In between robotically cooking a recipe that she'd made so many times she could do it in her sleep, she stole glances at her kitchen table and tried to hide her smiles as she watched David pretend to tinker on Bucky's metal arm with his little screwdriver. She was already a bit overly hyper from the unexpected visit, and now her brain was running at a mile a minute, knowing how hard it would be for Paul - or anyone who wasn't already steeped into the world of SHIELD and HYDRA and superheroes and spies and all of that crap - to reconcile the Winter Soldier with the image that sat before her now, of a man lounging at her table and watching a child play with his arm with a small smile on his face. It was even hard for her to fully comprehend, and she had accepted him and all of his horrors quite awhile ago.

But she pushed the thoughts aside, the sake of being fully present during the short time she had with him. She watched him demolish dinner once it was done, then felt a little giddy at the domesticity of it all when the three of them ended up watching the first installment of Lord of the Rings in the living room. It was like the time he'd spent here before and yet nothing like it, because he was much, much more relaxed and, frankly, considerably saner, and she didn't think twice about cozying up to his side while David played on the floor at their feet.

Bucky seemed to pay attention to the movie as it played, while his hand played off and on with her hair, and she wished it could be like that all the time. Her nerves weren't so easily frayed with him close, and she felt a level of security that was never present when he was gone. It wasn't that she doubted her abilities to take care of herself should danger present itself, but she also wasn't so deluded as to think that she was anywhere near qualified to handle the sorts of risks that came with sort-of dating HYDRA's ex-human weapon. She'd already learned that the hard way.

When the movie had about thirty minutes left, the warm fingertips still playing with her hair shifted to her shoulder, where they gripped gently and then pulled her closer to his chest. His breath tickled under her ear as his lips brushed her skin and she half-whispered, "Hey now - audience..."

"He's asleep," Bucky replied, pressing his lips to her neck as she peered down at the floor. To her surprise, he was right. David was passed out with a Hulk fist under his head acting as a pillow.

"Have you been watching the movie or watching him so you could do this the minute he was asleep?" she asked, closing her eyes as she leaned her head to the side to encourage his kisses.

"Both," he murmured against her pulse point, sending shivers down her spine as he kissed and then suckled her skin with the clear intent of leaving a very noticeable mark.

"We can never finish a movie," she remarked, her fingers sliding into his hair as he left her neck and kissed his way to her lips. She kissed him first, her hands holding his face and brain going wonderfully blank as he started to pull her her into his lap.

As nice as it was, she did have a child sleeping uncomfortably on the floor, and she only let a moment or two pass before she broke away from Bucky's mouth and smiled. "Hold that thought."

She felt his eyes stay on her as she slipped off his lap and off of the couch, stepping quietly towards David and taking a breath before bending down and scooping him off of the floor as gently as she could manage. She glanced behind her once, on her way out, and felt her cheeks flush at the casual way he sat there, eyes nearly nonchalant in the way that they expressed what he wished to do to her, his hair a little messy, legs further apart than they needed to be, and all in all, she thought, the picture of sex on her couch. And she was pretty sure that he still wasn't actually trying to be seductive at all.

Heart fluttering, she carried her son to bed and made sure that everything was in order for him, flipping on his nightlight - which was, predictably, a Captain America shield designed to look like it had been thrown into the wall, with surrounding cracks and all - before switching off the ceiling light and gently closing the door behind her as she stepped back out into the hall. She noticed that her bathroom door was closed and the light was on, which was a little disappointing, because she had hoped to find Bucky exactly as she had left him. Instead, however, she wandered back down the hallway towards the kitchen, figuring she'd double check that everything was put away and turn off the lights while she waited.

How exactly she ended up picking up his scarf from one of her kitchen chairs and staring at it like it was some fascinating artifact, she wasn't sure, but the thing was sitting there next to where he'd left his jacket, and it ended up feeling as expensive as it looked. Where did he get this stuff? Did Steve furnish him with a credit card from the Bank of Captain America to fund shopping trips in NYC? For that matter, how did he even know how to dress himself as well as he did? Maybe Natasha had a hand in that, because Steve wasn't really the most fashionable dude she'd ever seen...

"Like it?"

She jumped and turned around, immediately letting out a sigh and muttering, "I'm gonna make you, like, blow a whistle every time you walk into a room. And yes. This thing feels like it probably cost you more than what I spend in groceries in a month."

He took it from her hands, staying silent as he straightened it out before draping it around her neck. "It didn't cost me anything."

"You stole it?"

He shrugged. "Came with the car."

"Which you stole." Then she paused and said, "This is probably a chick scarf, by the way."

"Then keep it," he said before using the two ends of the material to pull her against his chest and kiss her.

The kiss was short, but long enough for her fingers to find his hair again before he pulled away. She looked up at him, brushing away a few fallen stray locks on his forehead before noting, "You could use a trim, you know." When he said nothing to this, she added, "I can do it for you if you want. Unless you miss the emo look."

"The what?"

"Nothing," she half-smiled. "So what do you say? Trust me with scissors yet?"

Apparently he did, because a few minutes later, he was seated in one of the kitchen chairs and she was brandishing salon scissors that she used to trim David's hair once a month. She stood just in front of him, and she noticed that he looked a bit wary at the sight.

"I'm not gonna butcher your hair, if that's why you're looking at me like that."

He didn't reply, but leaned back and tried not to appear distrustful. She rolled her eyes. "All right. Shirt off."

He looked up at her for a moment before leaning forward and doing as he was told, tossing the shirt on top of the scarf that was back on the seat of another chair. Then his eyes met hers again, and she didn't miss the glint that was hiding behind his front of indifference.

"I hope you don't expect me to fall to my knees and swoon every time you take your shirt off," she said evenly, though that was sort of what she wanted to do.

She felt his eyes stay on her until she walked around him, setting down the scissors on the table as she examined the back of his hair. She was running a comb through it when she heard him reply, "If you were on your knees, it wouldn't be to swoon."

The comb stilled mid-stroke, and she felt her jaw on the verge of dropping for the second time that day. She was glad that he couldn't see the instantaneous blush on her cheeks.

She forced herself to recover quickly, resuming the combing and swallowing before replying, "Well, look who's got a dirty mind."

He didn't say anything, but she could almost feel the half-smirk she both loved and hated crawl across his lips. She picked up the scissors and put them to his hair, making the first snip and wondering how she was going to survive this particular development. Every single time she thought she had a good handle on what she could expect from him, he would do something like this and she would feel like she was back to square one and completely unprepared and unbearably excited.

She managed to hold it together and do a competent job of trimming his hair, at least until she got to the very front, which required standing in front of him and doing the nearly impossible job of focusing on his hair while his eyes bored up into hers. She persevered, cutting at the front pieces and biting her lip with the intense concentration that staying focused required. Halfway through, she felt fingers start playing with the hem of her shirt, and she made the mistake of looking down and letting her eyes meet his.

Trying not to gulp at the slight smolder she was faced with in his gaze, she looked back up and tried not to think about how she was standing between his legs or how he was now curling his two index fingers into the front belt loops of her jeans, or how close his face was to her chest, because she ran the risk of slipping and doing a hackjob on his hair if she did. His fingers tugged her closer and she held her breath, trying to finish as quickly as she could. Then his hands moved over her hips and then behind, down and over the back of her thighs, and with a huff she decided the cut was good enough and threw the scissors on the table, pressing her lips to his with a fury as he yanked her forward to straddle him.

It went from quiet lock-snipping to a whirlwind just like that, both of them devouring the other as Bucky quickly stood up from the chair, easily supporting her with his left arm alone while the other buried itself in her hair. Then he was walking her towards the hallway, and she was trying not to giggle against his lips as she clung to him, mentally scratching off being carried to bed while being kissed within an inch of her life from her list of things she had yet to experience.

He broke away when he reached her bedroom door, nearly taking it off the hinges before he stopped long enough to wrestle with the doorknob, giving Summer a chance to repay some of the havoc he'd wreaked on her neck earlier on his own. A few fallen hairs scattered on his shoulders caught her eye in the process, and by the time he got them through the door, she was blowing on his skin in an attempt to clear them away.

"The hell are you doing?" he asked in an amused but also confused tone, walking straight at the bed.

"I'm not weird, I'm just trying to - _oomph_!" he threw her on the bed and she smiled, "Trying to get the little hairs off of you."

Unconsciously biting her lip and scooting back slightly on her elbows as she watched him crawl on the bed after her, the thrill of the moment overcame her and she reached out and pulled him down to her as soon as he was close enough, moaning a little when their lips met in a fast, deep kiss. Then her head spun with surprise as he rolled them over, placing her on top of him and sending a curtain of her dark hair falling over both of their faces. He pulled it out of the way with one hand and pushed down on the small of her back with the other, leaving no space between their hips as she kissed him as hard as he kissed her and raked her fingertips down the planes of his chest. The hand in her hair moved it all over one shoulder and then slid its way down her back, then to her side, and finally under the front of her shirt, where it struggled momentarily with the one of the cups of her bra before touching her through it in defeat.

Then Bucky sat up and started clawing her shirt up, and she thought briefly about the last time they'd done this and the fact that they technically were not supposed to go much further than this, but she kept her mouth shut and let him take off her shirt and toss it to the floor. She kissed him as his right hand went to her bra clasp, and his inability to make the thing come apart made her vaguely wonder how much different modern ones were from the kind women had back in the olden days of his youth. He growled in frustration, and as she tried not to laugh, she felt an odd vibrating sensation coming from somewhere in the bed. At first she thought she was imagining it, but she quickly realized that she wasn't, and broke her lips away from his as her brows furrowed.

In her daze, she looked at his metal arm, the hand of which was currently planted on the bed, and her eyes widened as she asked, "Is that your arm doing that?"

"Doing what?" he asked with an annoyed edge to his voice, still losing his war with the elusive clasp.

"Uh... vibrating?" She blinked and then added, "Because if you can make it do that..."

His eyes were pure confusion until something suddenly dawned on him, and his right hand finally gave up its task before he shifted and reached into his back pocket and pulled out his ringing phone, the source of the vibration.

Hiding her slight disappointment, not to mention slight embarrassment over thinking what she had, she watched as he glanced at the screen and then rolled his eyes before cursing in Russian, which was a habit she was starting to find strangely hot. But then he muttered something about having to answer the call and she quickly nodded, untangling herself from his body and letting him get up. He was out of the room in the blink of an eye, and she let out a heavy sigh before falling face-first into a pillow. One of these days, they would manage to successfully screw around without an interruption, and it would be a freaking miracle.

After five minutes passed without a reappearance, she dragged herself out of bed and killed some more time with her usual pre-bed ritual, which took about ten minutes since she dragged her feet through it. But he still wasn't back by the time she was done, so she turned off the main light in her room and flipped on a small lamp by her bed and then crawled under the covers. She had changed into an oversized sleep shirt and not much else in an attempt to be somewhat alluring, and she played games mindlessly on her phone while she waited.

After half an hour had gone by, she started to worry slightly, but she stayed where she was and mentally replayed the night's events, from the as-always unfinished movie to Bucky's dirty mind to the rather tension-filled haircut, and after awhile, she rolled her eyes and abandoned her phone to stare at the ceiling.

Nearly an hour after he'd first left, she was half asleep when she felt her bed depress on the empty side. She turned over, looking up sleepily at the man who had finally come back, still shirtless but a lot more tired than he had looked before his phone had made an unwelcome interruption to their night.

"Everything okay?" she asked, reaching out and taking his hand to guide him down next to her.

He nodded. "Sorry."

"It's okay," she smiled, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand as he settled in. "I'm used to frustration, trust me."

He didn't seem particularly happy about that, but she scooted herself closer to him and asked, "I'm guessing you really do have something major going on down here. And you probably can't tell me much about it." When he didn't answer either way, she asked, "Do I need to worry?"

He shook his head. "No."

"Is this what you're gonna do now?" she asked. "Spy stuff, or... whatever it is you're doing? Avenger stuff?"

He made a face at the word Avenger, but after a moment, he admitted quietly, "It's all I know."

She nodded understandingly. "Guess I'll just have to get used to worrying."

He frowned at her words and then reached out for her. She ended up curled against him, her back to his chest and his right arm draped over her middle as he kissed just behind her ear. "I don't want you to worry."

"You can't stop me," she pointed out, leaning her head back to kiss his lips. She wasn't so tired that she couldn't have given it another go, but he had a slightly far-away look in his eye that had replaced the hunger that had been there before. But that was all right. "So how long exactly do I have you?"

"Tonight and tomorrow. I leave for Washington the next morning."

She had hoped that the "few days" meant three and would officially start the next day, so this made her chest clench a little bit. "And after that? Do you have to go straight back to New York?"

"I don't know yet."

She nodded again, taking a breath and then taking his hand in hers, bringing him closer as she tried to mold herself to him as much as she could. "Well, if I only get you for two nights, then you're sleeping with me and I don't care what you say."

A pause, and then a cautious, tired, "Summer..."

She looked over her shoulder again and gave him a silencing look. "I'm a light sleeper. If you have a nightmare I'll hear you way before you can accidentally hurt me."

He looked far from convinced, but she merely settled back in against the pillow they now shared and interlaced her fingers with his, as his hand rested over her belly. "Try to sleep, Bucky."

It took a few moments, but eventually she felt him relax a bit against her. She closed her eyes, the heaviness from a few moments ago returning to them, and she resisted the urge to purr like a cat when his hand gently left hers to run softly up her arm, down her side and then over her hip, where he paused at the touch of her bare skin where her sleep shirt ended.

Her eyes opened just a little bit, then closed when the pause ended and replaced by his hand lazily running up and down her legs. On the way up, he pulled her shirt up some, letting his fingers trace the outer edges of her underwear beneath it as he pointed out, "You don't usually sleep like this."

"Mm," she muttered, almost asleep. "I was trying to be sexy. Or something."

She was fast asleep, by far the most peacefully in weeks, by the time he murmured against her ear that she had succeeded. He followed her into slumber after awhile, hoping like hell that he wasn't making a horrible mistake.

**A/N: Aaaaand the frustration deepens :D I have never written anything like this before, where this part of things gets (necessarily) dragged out and major frustration ensues, and I gotta say, it's kind of fun to write. I didn't think it would be, but I love it. Even though I kind of want to rip my hair out at the same time.**

**Anyway! My usual thanks to you wonderful, amazing readers and your reviews, follows, faves, and just for taking the time to read this story. You're all amazing and I love you bunches, and I am super grateful for your continued support. Also, my other usual thanks to midnightwings96 for being her amazing self and always helping me out when I'm stuck or need some extra motivation. :D See you all in another week! :)))**


	7. Chapter 7

In the midst of dreaming that she was auditioning for a television singing competition while simultaneously realizing with horror that she could not actually sing, Summer was pulled from slumber by an indistinct sound coming from somewhere nearby. Opening her eyes and blinking away the odd images, she looked around and found herself sprawled on her back, far away from where she had first fallen asleep. A look to her right found Bucky still asleep nearly face-down but clearly on the verge of distress, eyes clamped shut and hands in fists near his pillow, his breaths coming increasingly erratically.

She slowly sat up, instantly fully awake as she watched him carefully and quickly considered her options. Steve had gotten inadvertently punched in the face more than once after trying to wake Bucky from his nightmares, she'd heard, and Summer wasn't sure she'd have much of a face left if she faced the same fate. But, leaving the bed and leaving him to suffer didn't seem like much of a viable option either, though leaving him to his dreams had been exactly what she had done during the month he had spent living with her.

She spent a moment stuck in indecision before a soft, almost imperceptible whimper left his lips and made her decision for her. Reminded of the dreams that she'd comforted David in the wake of since he was a little baby, she cautiously moved closer and watched him for a few more seconds before slowly reaching out her hand.

Poised to leap away any minute if she had to - hopefully quickly enough, though that was unlikely - she ran her fingers soothingly through his hair, softly like she would with David, all while watching his face and breathing for any sign of calming or worsening. When the touches didn't seem to be making it any worse, she let herself move in closer while she spoke as comfortingly as she could manage, hoping her words of him being okay and safe got through to him somehow, and to her relief, after a moments, his breathing slowed down a bit.

She wasn't sure how long she stayed like that, putting her mothering skills to the test on a much more difficult subject than her son, but by some miracle, in time, his fists uncurled and his jaw relaxed along with his breaths, and he seemed to fall back into a semi-restful sleep. She smiled, not having expected success, and settled down near him to try to sleep some more herself, her hand moving from his hair to twine with his fingers as she closed her eyes.

But, the peace was short-lived. She was startled awake nearly an hour later to him shooting up in bed with a ragged gasp, breathing hard and looking around in confusion as she quickly scrambled up to a sitting position behind him.

"It's okay," she said, voice tinged with sleep. "You're okay." Then she reached out to reassuringly touch his arm, and he flinched away, looking back at her with wide eyes that frightened her a bit with how confused they were.

"Bucky," she said quietly, cautiously, her hands down in surrender, "calm down. You're all right. You were dreaming."

He blinked, still breathing like he'd just done laps around a city, recognition dawning in his eyes as he muttered, "Summer?"

She nodded in relief, taking that as a signal that touching him would be okay now. She placed her hand on his right forearm and replied, "You fell asleep with me, remember?"

He stared at her for a moment before looking down at her hand on him, then dropping his head and running his metal hand over his face. She sighed and laid her head on his shoulder, almost able to feel his misery rolling off of him. There had been times in her life where sleep had not come easy, but to experience his level of sleep deprivation on such a prolonged basis was nearly unthinkable.

"Is it still like this every night?" she asked softly, listening to his breathing slowly return to something more normal but still labored. He nodded, and she pressed a kiss to his shoulder, hoping that her presence was at least a little comforting. "Maybe an hour ago I woke up and I could tell you were having a nightmare. I tried to help, and you seemed okay after a few minutes."

It was quiet for a few moments before he replied, "I wasn't. I think I heard you, but..."

"Didn't really help?" she surmised, a little disappointed, but that was just life, she supposed.

His tone was blank and miserable when he eventually muttered, "I shot you." Another pause, a swallow of his dry throat, and then, "I thought you were... I thought... but then I saw your face and..."

"Hey," she gently interrupted, trying to pull his face towards hers, but he resisted and she didn't push it. "It was just a dream. Dreams suck, I know."

"They won't go away," he said miserably, with all the exhaustion of someone who had slept the better part of seventy years but couldn't catch more than a few hours at a time now.

She could feel tension returning to his muscles as he worked himself back up, so she made him look at her and wouldn't let him stop her this time. "I know. And the dread's probably worse than the actual dreams, right?" He just looked at her, and she had a feeling that she was right. "I know because mine suck too. Nothing like yours, I'm sure, but still."

His eyes turned mildly questioning but no less exhausted and dejected. She pursed her lips and cringed at the thought of having to talk about it, but he had never breathed a word of his dreams to her until now. She couldn't really ask him to open up if she wouldn't do the same.

"HYDRA?" he asked quietly. "The agents that found me here?"

"Sometimes," she replied. "Maybe once a week I have that one. But it's usually Mark and what he did. I guess almost suffocating to death is kind of perfect for nightmares because you can't breathe and then..."

She trailed off when his eyes widened and suddenly became slightly murderous. Then she remembered that she'd never told him that part of the story. She straightened a little, clearing her throat and gesturing unnecessarily with her hand towards her mouth as she explained, "Uh... he tried to keep me quiet and... yeah. I passed out and when I woke up he was passed out drunk next to me and..." She glanced up at him and fell silent, knowing the hardness of his glare wasn't directed at her but still feeling like she might wither under it anyway.

"You could have died."

She nodded. "Yep. But I didn't." One more look at him found his expression full of questions, but she blurted out her next words before he could ask her anything. "One time I dreamed it was you hurting me. Exact same dream I always have, except it was you instead of him."

All at once, his eyes grew large, his face paled, and he looked like he might throw up, but before he could take the new bit of info the complete wrong way, Summer clarified her point by holding up her hands and saying, "I'm telling you that because that's how stupid brains are. I know you'd never hurt me, and dreaming that made absolutely no sense. Dreams are just... dreams. They don't mean anything. And they don't need to have power over you. Or at least that's what my old therapist used to tell me." Then she paused and added, "All your dreams can't be bad. Don't you have good ones every once in awhile?"

He reluctantly looked away then, thinking as he looked at his hands in his lap. "I think I've had three. One of Steve, two of you."

"Really? Do tell," she smiled, desperate to lighten the mood. She scooted back on the bed and pulled on his hand to follow her, and after a moment they were settled against the headboard, her facing him while he stared out in front of them.

"First one was when I left here," he said, still speaking in a hushed, sleepy tone. "I fell asleep in the car. Second was last night."

"Last night?" she repeated. "... And?"

He gave her a look that told her he wasn't going to tell her, and after a moment she rolled her eyes. "Tell me and I'll tell you one I had about you. A good one, not a stupid one." His expression changed to mildly intrigued, and she grinned and said, "I'll go first, if that helps. So, one time like a month ago, I dreamed that I took you to this big library because you said you wanted to read Charlotte's Web, which is this kid's book about a pig and a spider, but we couldn't find it anywhere, so you got really pissed off and punched a hole into a bookshelf. Then the librarian started coming towards us all mad, so you took us into the computer lab and dragged me under a desk. And then you started kissing me and stuff, but I woke up before the, you know, good stuff could happen. Always happens to me. Then I wake up and I'm like..." she forced herself to shut up before she made a bigger idiot of herself. She looked up to find his eyes a little less tortured and a little more amused, which was definitely a good thing. "Anyway. Your turn."

She waited impatiently while he looked down, appearing thoughtful for a bit, and her attention was briefly drawn to the early morning light starting to break through her curtains before his voice snapped her eyes back to him. "You know how we walked in on Steve and Natasha... in the kitchen?"

She held her breath. Yes, it was difficult to forget walking in on America's oldest no-longer-virgin getting a favor from his terrifying spy girlfriend. "... Yeah."

He glanced at her, then almost let a grin cross his face as he added, "You shouldn't send me pictures of you... licking things."

She stared at him for a moment, letting those two hints sink in. Then her eyes widened and she broke into a smile, coupled with a stupid blush she could just never avoid. "So that picture wasn't a complete failure? That's awesome! I thought it just went over your head from the way you answered me."

"... I didn't really think I was supposed to say what I thought."

She chuckled and leaned her head back. "Well, that's kind of the idea of texting. But since you're from the stone age, I'll let it pass. This time. Next time, share your thoughts."

He started to return her grin, but it quickly faded as his face grew somber once more. "How can you laugh and joke after... after talking about what happened to you?"

He looked genuinely perplexed, and she drew a breath before replying, "Well, it happened six years ago. I've had my time to fall apart over it and let it destroy me, and trust me, it was a crapfest. My grandma was dying and my brother was away at college, and when I found out I was pregnant..." she shook her head, eyes closing briefly. "I thought it was the worst possible thing that could happen. I was terrified, heartbroken, in denial, everything you can imagine. I tried to go and have an abortion. I was early enough that they gave me pills for it, so I came home and took them, then freaked out and made myself throw them up. I still feel guilty about that."

She glanced at Bucky to find him listening intently, his face the picture of seriousness. "So, even though I decided to keep him after that, I was angry and resentful and bitter about it. I let what happened pretty much consume me and was a complete wretch and wouldn't even eat until my grandma literally smacked me straight. I don't know what I would have done without her. I did the therapy thing because of her nagging me, found a support group. I didn't think it would help but it did. It was great. That was how I learned to 'take my power back', as they called it. Then I had my baby. And my grandma died a few months later." She took a breath and then added, "She's the one who came up with his name. I was stumped, but she said that for me, going through with having him after what I went through was like facing my own personal giant. So she suggested David. You remember David and Goliath?"

He nodded. She took another breath and said, "Anyway. My point is, it all is what it is. And Mark doesn't have any power over me anymore. It'll always hurt and I don't think you ever quite 'get over it', but... it doesn't define me, you know? So I guess that's why I can talk about it and not freak out. I've accepted it."

He looked caught somewhere between flabbergasted and completely confused, but in his defense, she knew that she'd just dropped a whole lot of emotional baggage on top of his head. That baggage was one of several reasons why she used to think that she'd never find a man willing to even attempt a relationship with her, but maybe the key was finding one with their own baggage and thus the capacity to understand. And boy, had she hit the motherload of mutual baggage. Reagan National Airport had nothing on them.

In time, she found herself curled up at his side, her head on his chest, and she listened to the steady thump of his heartbeat and subtle mechanical sounds from his arm. He was in deep thought above her, or at least that's what his expression had told her the last time she'd peeked up to check on him.

She was nearly on the verge of falling back to sleep when his voice rumbled in her ear, pulling her back from the edge. "I can accept some things, but some I just... can't."

Realizing that he was picking up where they'd left off nearly ten full minutes of silence ago, she blinked a few times and asked, "Like what?"

A full minute or two passed before he gave an answer. "I don't want to tell you."

She kept her head down, thinking maybe he'd have an easier time telling her whatever it was if he didn't have to look directly at her. "If you could scare me off, I would have run for the hills already. Probably when I read that you killed a president."

Another few minutes, and then he said somewhat brokenly, "But kids are different."

Her stomach instantly twisted with dread. She didn't say a word, waiting to see what he'd say next, praying he wouldn't leave it there and leave her imagination to run wild with the potential horrors behind those words.

"I shot a little girl in the head, in the middle of her birthday party, right in front of her parents. And I have no idea why."

She closed her eyes, her belief that nothing he could say could shock her proven false. She had never imagined his targets being anything other than adults, important people like Howard Stark and JFK and Steve. Those, she could at least understand why HYDRA would want gone, but a kid? _Why?_

And to think that the same man who had played Angry Birds with her son, let the boy use his arm like a big toy and had humored his every whim, had once been so utterly stripped of his soul that he could kill another child just like that...

No wonder he couldn't sleep at night.

"It wasn't you," she eventually managed to say. "It wasn't your fault."

"But I remembered Steve. If I could remember him, how I could I not... how could I just not even question..."

She finally lifted her head and let her eyes meet his, the pit in her stomach growing deeper at the sight of the pain etched in his features. "Please don't do that. You have to know that blaming yourself is... it's no different from if I blamed myself for what happened to me."

"You didn't hurt anyone," he pointed out.

"Doesn't make you any less of a victim," she replied.

And that was the truth of it, if he could look past his guilt long enough to see it. But she couldn't sit there and lecture him about it, or pretend to have any idea what it was like to have that kind of blood permanently stained on one's hands. Maybe the best thing that she could do was continue to show him how she accepted him, despite her still-uneasy stomach, and remind him during these difficult nights that he really was, in every sense of the word, innocent. And maybe, someday, he would start to believe her.

As the sun rose outside, she watched the rest of early morning pass by in a lazy, somewhat heavy, silent crawl. Her head ended up back on his chest and his fingers found their familiar place in her hair as she dozed off and on through the questions and thoughts swirling through her head that she wouldn't give voice to. Occasionally she would feel his heart rate pick up beneath her ear, signaling that he was spiraling too far into his own mind, and she would either take his hand or mumble comforting words between kisses to wherever she could reach until he calmed down and his heart returned to normal.

This continued until her door creaked open and a half-asleep little boy came scampering inside the room in his Captain America pajamas. She separated herself from Bucky and smiled at her son as he crawled into the bed and curled up in her lap, cuddling with her as he turned suspicious, untrusting eyes on the man sitting on the other side of his mother'a bed.

"This is how he wakes up every day now," she explained, while Bucky and David took part in a staredown that she thought was more cute than anything, since it consisted of David's dirty looks and Bucky's innocent stare back. "I don't think he likes the idea of sharing me much."

Bucky looked up from David to her, slightly nodding his understanding while David tightened his little arms around her in a "she's mine" gesture. Bucky almost smiled. Summer did and then asked, "Have you figured out how to work coffee machines?" When he nodded, she added, "If you go start some I'll make pancakes."

And that was the official start to the new day, Bucky nodding and rising out of her bed looking more tired than when he had first laid down in it the night before, and her not faring much better. She would live, though, and so would he. At least there was always coffee. And maybe getting a hideously early start wasn't so bad, since Bucky would be gone next morning, and as cheesy as it may have sounded, she didn't want to miss a moment.

* * *

It was halfway through watching her pancakes get put away silently but quickly by the two men in her life that Summer remembered she needed to drive into town to pick up a prescription for David. It couldn't be put off, unfortunately, so she invited Bucky on the world's most boring errand-run before taking a shower and then facing the task of figuring out what to wear.

Standing in front of her closet in a towel, she eyed the contents of it warily, saving her most contemptuous glare for the pair of boots that sat innocently near the front. To her slight shame, she had been wearing them a couple times a week in an attempt to break them in and make them at least somewhat wearable, but they still hurt if she wore them too long, and she wondered how other women could wear such things all day and not have their feet fall off. Nevertheless, her reason for having bought and worn them in the first place was sitting in her kitchen with his effortless, mildly disheveled, natural allure, so she figured it was a good time to break out the torture boots again.

After tossing them on the floor behind her, she started rummaging through her clothes and frowning at them all, all of them seeming either too dressy or too casual or too something or another. But then something caught her eye at the very back of the clothes rod, a black leather jacket that was a relic from her pre-baby days but still in fine condition. She pulled it out and looked it over, quickly deciding why the heck not before grabbing a dark purple dress she'd bought for New York but never got to wear, ignoring the fact that she was probably overdressing for a trip to the pharmacy. But that was irrelevant when she had more important reasons to dress above her usual standards.

The dress ended just above her knees, cinched at the waist with a thin black belt, and the neckline was low enough that she would probably need to steal Bucky's lady-scarf to stay warm. Black tights went under the dress, and when it came to makeup, she went easy on it to keep from looking like she was trying too hard. Same went for her hair, which was towel-dried in waves that would be trying to reach past the middle of her back if she didn't get it cut soon. When she was done, she looked over her reflection in the mirror above her dresser, trying not to feel completely ridiculous and rolling her eyes as she headed out to the hall.

Heels clicking against the floor, helping give off a false air of confidence, she walked into the kitchen to fetch David and get him dressed, glancing at Bucky as he sat at the table with his back to her, doing something on his phone. The sound of her footsteps caught up with his ears as she was telling David to head to his room, and she looked at Bucky just in time to see him turn and glance at her before doing a slight double take. His eyes narrowed and began their sweep of her at her boots, slowly working their way up, and just when their eyes met, she mustered up what she prayed was a flirtatious grin and then headed off to follow David to his room.

When she came back, both of them ready at last, Bucky had shifted the chair so that he'd be able to see her the moment she reappeared. She could feel his stare as much as see it, and as satisfying as it was, she wasn't sure if she would ever get used to the intensity of it. It didn't help that over time, his stare had evolved from from much more innocent origins to something that was now so overtly lustful that she finally knew what people meant when they threw around terms like "eye-sex".

She heard him stand from the table when she grabbed her purse and started throwing her keys and other essentials into it, and she sensed him lurking inches behind her when David ran off to grab some toys from the living room.

"Hurry up, kiddo, we should have left like ten minutes a-"

Her words died at the sensation of her hair being gripped and her head being pulled back, gently but swiftly, and suddenly she was being kissed so ferociously that she almost fell over from the shock of it and had to be steadied by an arm that helpfully wrapped around her waist and held her upright.

It was over before David could walk back in and be subjected to them kissing a second time, and when her mouth was free again and his arms were gone, Summer straightened up and stared in a daze at her unrepentant assailant as he slowly walked backwards towards her front door. Then he had the audacity to run his eyes back down over her body and bite his lip, a habit he seemed blissfully unaware of, before opening the door and slipping outside.

She was still staring at the door with her mouth half-open when David reemerged, waving a hand near her face to make her snap out of it. She shook her head and decided that it was unreasonable to be so utterly frustrated after a single kiss, regardless of how ridiculous it had been, and she marched out to her truck while actively fighting the urge to throw something hard at Bucky's head.

It was nearly two full hours before the errands were done and they were back home, which were two hours full of combatting Bucky's hand crossing the border of his passenger seat to try to play with (and slip under) the hem of her dress and giving in to David's silent but effective pleas for junk food which made the excursion last longer than it needed to. By the time she'd gotten them back into the woods and safely inside the house, her frustration levels had not dropped and she was debating how exactly to get a minute or maybe fifteen alone with the source of her angst with her son awake, but then the jerk dropped his jacket on a chair and said something about taking a shower before disappearing down the hall.

_Of course_. She plopped down on her couch and flipped on cartoons before letting her head fall back and eyes close, considering walking outside and face-planting in the snow to get her brain to cool down.

Then her eyes opened and stared at the ceiling just before her doorbell rang.

She shot up with immediate alarm, all warm and mushy thoughts gone in a flash as her reflexive fear set in. David, the poor boy, looked scared as well, and Summer quickly assured him that it was probably just the mailman as she got up to her feet, wobbling slightly in her heels, grabbing her taser from her purse as she made her way to the door.

She glanced down the hall, where she could hear the shower running. Then she moved to a window and peered out the side of it, but she couldn't see much of anything at the angle. Then whoever it was at the door knocked a few times, and she swallowed her fear before biting the bullet and stepping around to unlock the door.

Taser still firmly in hand, she cracked open the door, hoping it really was the mailman. But it wasn't, and as soon as she got a glimpse of who was on the other side, every drop of blood in her veins ran cold and her face paled.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she choked out, her tone equally shocked and venomous as she came face to face with the man from her nightmares for the first time in over four years.

Mark looked the same as she remembered, five feet and nine inches of averageness, short light brown hair and brown eyes, pleasant enough to look at if one didn't know any better. He held up his hands in surrender and said quietly, "Please don't freak out. I just - I was in town and -"

She stared at him with wide eyes until she noticed him looking over her shoulder. She followed his gaze to David, peeking around the corner of the living room, and she instantly snapped, "David, go to your room. Right now. I mean it. Go."

The boy obeyed, and Summer turned back to her unwelcome visitor, who looked a bit dumbfounded at having seen his son for the first time since he was an infant. "What do you want?" she asked harshly. "And why didn't you call?"

"Well, I knew you wouldn't answer if I did," he replied, his tone blank rather than accusatory. "I just wanted to... see him."

"Really?" she asked, eyebrows raised and old anger sparking to life. "Are you kidding me? Almost five years later?"

He winced a little and nodded, closing his eyes. "I know, I know. Can I just... I know I have no right, but can I at least come inside?"

"Uh, no," she replied.

He paused and said, "Technically I'm still allowed a few visits a year."

"Technically, you can go to hell," she shot back. "He doesn't even know you. He doesn't do that great with people he doesn't know. You'd know that if you gave a crap about him."

He sighed, putting his hands on his hips and looking down, something she knew he did when he was getting frustrated. "Can I please just come in for a minute?"

She stared at him for a moment, long and hard, and then she changed her mind. Fine. Let him have a glimpse of what she had built for the last five years with nothing but the barest of financial support from him. Let him see how little she ever needed him in the first place. She swung the door open and raised an eyebrow. "Fine. One minute."

He looked shocked at her change of heart, but he quickly recovered and stepped inside, awkwardly. He noticed the taser in her hand that she was making zero effort of hiding, and his eyes widened briefly, which almost made her grin.

Once he was inside, she closed the door and crossed her arms, staring at him as he looked around silently.

"You've... uh... you've kept the place up pretty well," he said dumbly, glancing at her before looking at the taser again and then quickly looking away.

"Were you expecting filth and everything in shambles?"

Mark sighed and waved his hand before muttering, "Can you please not do this?"

"Do what? I think I've earned the right to act like a bitch to you, don't you think?"

"I know I've been an idiot," he replied, "and I know you hate me. But I've been thinking about him, and... I don't know. I don't like how all of this turned out."

"Which is entirely your fault," she pointed out.

He sighed again, shoving his hands in jean pockets and leaning back against her kitchen table. Silence fell for a moment, and she was about to declare his time up and shoo him out when he glanced up at her and muttered, "For what it's worth, you look great."

She drew in a deep, calming breath to keep from exploding and answered, "All right. Get out."

"Summer -"

"Nope," she shook her head, "no. Out. I'm not doing this."

"Can I please just talk to him? Just for a minute?"

"If you don't get out," she replied, "I swear I will tase you right in the face."

His eyes widened a little at the threat, but he persisted. "Summer, please."

"You still have no clue what 'no' means," she laughed bitterly. "Have you changed at all in the last five years? Or are you still the same idiot you've always been?"

Somewhere in the middle of her last sentence, Mark seemed to suddenly notice a pair of men's shoes near the front door, and after that, a man's leather jacket in the chair sitting next to him. His expression was a bit incredulous when he looked up and asked, "Is... is there a guy here with you?"

In her fury and outrage, she had almost forgotten about Bucky entirely. Now that she remembered him, she realized that she couldn't hear the shower running anymore, and that meant that she should probably make Mark leave within the next sixty seconds. She quickly schooled her features into blankness, however, and shrugged. "What if I did? How is that your business?"

He opened and closed his mouth a few times like a fish. "Just... just curious, I guess."

"Well, you lost your right to be curious a long time ago," she replied. "Now for the last time, get out."

"Let me talk to him first."

She gritted her teeth. "No."

"Legally, you can't deny me this."

"Like hell I can't."

They stood at an impasse, her fingers itching to tase him into the next century. She watched him carefully, vowing to do it if he took so much as one step towards the hallway.

She never got to find out what his next course of action would have been, however, because a deceptively soft-spoken voice from the edge of the hallway made them both look up in slight shock, albeit for very different reasons.

There stood Bucky, still wet and shirtless after his shower, staring at the stranger in the dining room with seemingly zero thought as to the metal arm very much on display, looking poised and ready for battle as he asked, "Who the hell are you?"

Summer picked her jaw off the floor and glanced at Mark, who had gone deathly pale and wide-eyed as he stared openly at the man demanding his identity. Judging by the way that he stared at Bucky's arm, he knew what it meant and who he was. He would have had to have been living under a rock for the last six months to not know.

She held her breath. This wasn't going to end well.

* * *

From the moment the sound of distant but clear arguing reached his ears, Bucky's reaction had been instinctual and rapid. The last time somebody had knocked on her door while he was there, he had ended up killing two HYDRA agents and narrowly saving her son from certain death. He had no interest in taking the chance of a repeat performance of that night, so with his arm as nothing more than an afterthought, he all but stormed out of the bathroom in jeans and came to a stop at the edge of the hallway.

His question of the man's identity was pointless, because once he took a good look at him, it was obvious who he was. The eyes gave him away, because they were the same eyes that belonged to Summer's son.

He looked at Summer, and the anger that she wasn't trying to hide was all the confirmation he needed. She also looked a bit terrified, looking back and forth between him and the man she'd called Mark, like she expected something horrible to happen any minute.

The sound of a chair falling over stole Bucky's attention, and he shifted his gaze to find Mark scrambling after nearly tripping over his own feet trying to scuttle backwards towards the door. His eyes were wide with sudden terror and he reached out a slightly shaky finger, muttering, "You're... you..." Then he looked at Summer and half-exclaimed, "Why is he in your house? Wh - he - he's..."

"Yeah. He is," Summer replied, glancing at Bucky nervously after she spoke the words.

Mark gaped at her before backing up closer to the door. "You're insane, Summer."

It was when he grabbed the doorknob and tried to make a run for it that Bucky sprung into action, and the poor fool simply never had a chance.

Bucky crossed the room as the door opened and grabbed him by the neck of his jacket, effortlessly yanking him back and turning him before clamping his metal hand over his throat and making a pathetic half-scream come squeaking out of his mouth. Bucky looked at him through narrowed eyes, his grip tight enough to make Mark panic but not completely deprive him of oxygen as he took his time looking the man over.

"So you're Mark," Bucky stated, tone low and clearly threatening by the way Mark choked a little harder and widened his eyes. "I've heard about you."

Then Bucky looked to his left, to Summer, who stood by still clutching her taser, watching with alarm but not with fear. Their eyes met, and words were not necessary for him to communicate his silent question. He left what happened next up to her, and the slightest inclination of her head gave him all the answer he needed.

He turned back to the very red, sputtering face of the man in his grip, and then tightened his grip as he walked him forward, through the door, before throwing him down to the ground hard enough to make him cry out in pain despite the cushion of snow beneath. He coughed and wheezed and tried to scramble up to get away, but Bucky kept him down with a kick to his ribs, then one to his stomach, each making him cry out miserably and curl in on himself in a vain attempt to fend off more blows, but a metal hand curled around his upper arm and flung him on his back. A distinct cracking sound told Bucky that he'd either broken the arm or at least pulled it out of socket, and the scream that resulted sounded like one of a man dying. Clearly, pain was a new concept to the man

Moving with a precise and terrifying fluidity, Bucky pressed a knee to Mark's chest and pinned him to the ground, grabbing his throat again, this time with his right hand, while his other reared back and then smashed into his face. His nose shattered on impact, but if Bucky had not been holding back, his entire face would have met the same fate. His movements were careful and strategic, however, and this, for better or worse, was what he knew he was best at, designed for, and knowing that the target of his assault was deserving and entirely not the least bit innocent made it feel damn good for once to throw a punch.

"Stop! Please," Mark moaned pathetically, face bloodied and bruised from the single punch and breathing labored under Bucky's grip on his neck. "I won't - I won't tell anyone, I swear!"

"No, you won't," Bucky said, tone lower than before and dripping with a fearsome confidence. "Because if you do," he went on, taking his hand leave Mark's throat and using it to cover his mouth and nose, "I will find you wherever you go, and I will enjoy listening to you scream while I cut you apart."

The combined effect of his threat and the very intentional suffocation by his hand made Mark's eyes nearly tumble from their sockets and body thrash with panic as much as it could while still being pinned to the earth.

"Don't come back. Don't make me regret letting you live."

He waited until the last possible moment to remove his hand and let the man take a painful, frantic gasp of air as he finally let him free, standing up and watching as he laid there struggling for breath, unable to move yet despite how desperately he wanted to. Bucky stood there, glancing behind him to find Summer watching from the doorway with an unreadable expression. Then he turned back to the man laying in front of him, and as a parting gift, sent a brutal kick flying directly between his legs. By that point, Mark was nearly unable to scream anymore, and wept through the blinding pain instead.

Bucky didn't move an inch until the man had crawled through the snow and managed to collapse into the driver's seat of his car, eventually peeling out of the driveway and nearly hitting a tree in his haste to get away. Once the car was out of sight, Bucky turned around and walked back towards the door, where Summer was still standing and wearing an expression he still couldn't wholly decipher. She didn't seem displeased, however.

He stood a few feet in front of her as she closed the front door and locked it, cold after having beaten the man to an inch of his life while wearing only jeans in nearly-freezing temperatures, but also warm from leftover adrenaline and the rush of how satisfying it had been to repay a bit of what Mark had inflicted on the woman who was still currently gripping her taser for no reason.

Trying to ignore the almost audible humming in his veins, he focused on her as she turned around to face him and immediately started babbling. "I'm really sorry about that. I had no idea he was coming, and I shouldn't have let him in, but I just..."

He shook his head. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

"No, I do, because if he tells someone -"

"He won't."

"But what if he does?"

Bucky refrained from replying, instead looking down at her hands before stepping forward and taking the taser from her grip and tossing it on the kitchen counter. Then, operating on something more instinctual than thought, he put his hands on her hips and backed her up gently against the door.

As she looked up at him with widening eyes and parted lips, he let his actions express what his words couldn't, because words failed and deserted him in moments like these. Cradling her head with two hands that only moments ago had been exacting revenge on her once-tormentor, he brought his lips down to cover hers in a kiss that was neither soft nor hard, neither demanding nor pliant, but simply, wholly, consuming. He wanted to seal her, set her apart from her own past, pull her in until she couldn't get any closer, and assert a claim that the instincts guiding his actions understood far better than his brain did.

The leftover tension and anxiety in her body drained as it all but slumped against his, her slightly shaky hands moving up his arms until they met in his hair. The soft skin of her cheek and her hair were mere subtle tickles under his left hand, far from the warm and sensuous things they were to his right, but he savored what little he could feel before the moment came to an end that lingered between their shared, heavy breaths.

It seemed that she had been left as speechless as he, which was significant for a girl who never seemed to be without something to ramble about at any given moment. He hoped that it meant that she understood what he couldn't say, what he wasn't sure he even fully comprehended.

He almost jumped in surprise when she finally did speak, so wrapped up he was in the silence. "David. I have to go get David."

He nodded, reluctantly letting her go and stepping aside so that she could walk past him towards the hallway. He instantly felt colder without her, but he was used to that. What he wasn't used to was the odd sense of heaviness in his chest, not painful or unpleasant, but impossible to ignore.

Whatever it was, it was a thousand times better than feeling nothing at all.

* * *

One thing that he could say for her was that Summer was nothing if not resilient. If she was disturbed or troubled at all by Mark's unexpected visit and Bucky's pummeling of him into the ground, the most that she showed of it was acting slightly more hyper than usual as she made dinner. She was slightly on edge, that much he could tell, and she had a bit of a dazed look in her eyes from time to time, but he genuinely could not tell if it was a good thing or a bad thing.

The routine stayed the same, and he thought that it had become as much of a comfort for Summer as it was for David. He would know - routine was one of the first things his therapist had advised him to construct and stick to, and it really was a wonder how simply sticking to a predictable routine could be a calming thing.

But, as comfortable as he knew she was in her routine, her home, he kept thinking of what may have occurred had he not been there when Mark paid his visit. The most likely scenario was probably Summer tasering him until he voluntarily left, but her ability to fight an intruder off was beside the point. He didn't want her to have to fight anybody, and especially not someone who had hurt her so badly in the past.

He didn't want to leave her home the next day and then return to New York without her a few days after that. He wanted her where he could see her, close to him and never as far as she had been for the last month and a half.

He planned on talking to her about moving after she put David to bed, and he waited patiently when that hour came. She disappeared in the bathroom with her son to give him a bath - still wearing the boots that had been torturing him all day, which he thought was a sign of how distracted she really was by the day's events - and he was left to wander around the house, trying to get his thoughts together and figure out how to present them in a way that would convince her to agree with what he thought was blindingly obvious - that she needed to stay close to him, all the time.

He ended up in her bedroom, sitting down on the side of her bed and ruffling his hair with his right hand, still lost in thought when a glow from over his shoulder stole his attention. He glanced behind him and saw her open laptop, having just lit up due to the slight jostling his sitting must have caused it, and for a moment he wondered what it was doing there, since he hadn't seen her use it all day. Then he decided to ignore it and go back to staring at the floor.

But then the thing started beeping, and he turned around and peered at the screen to try to figure out what it was doing. Upon inspection, he figured out that someone was trying to "call" her computer, as if it were a phone - which was bizarre - and he watched the little notifications from something called "Skype" until the call ended and the images went away. Once the screen was clear, it displayed her background photo, which was different from the one he remembered from his early days here. This picture was of a younger version of herself, a little bit rounder in her cheeks and slightly paler, sitting on the same couch that was in her living room today, holding a tiny little blue bundle of a baby and sitting next to an elderly lady that he assumed was her grandmother.

As he stared at the picture, suddenly he was intrigued. She must have had more pictures on there somewhere, and he suddenly wanted to see them all.

It never crossed his mind that she might object to him digging around on her computer, or that there might be things on there that she didn't necessarily want him to see. Instead, driven by his curiosity, he pulled the computer on his lap and started clumsily trying to navigate it. He was better with his phone than computers, not having had much time to practice with the latter.

He never found the elusive photos. Instead, what he first found was a folder filled with her college assignments, which he skimmed over with only moderate interest. After that, he found where she apparently stored her music, which resulted in a song playing that he couldn't figure out how to turn off. He ended up muting the speaker and continuing with his search, clicking on a folder that was titled innocuously enough but ended up completely distracting him and making him forget what he was looking for.

It was a folder of her writings. He knew, somewhat vaguely, that she was a writer. She didn't talk about it much and she always downplayed her talent, so he was curious to see if she was better than she claimed and what exactly she actually wrote about.

The first file was relatively small and he read through it quickly. It was some sort of story, or a part of one, about an injured man who ended up at the home of a girl whose perspective the story was written from. Immediately, he recognized the familiarity of such a storyline, and he started plowing through the other files in the folders in a sudden need to know what else she had written.

The files were like snippets of a bigger story, not yet fully interconnected the way that a novel would be, but all involving the same two characters and describing scenes that were incredibly familiar and also not. Changes to how they had actually occurred in real life were subtle and enough to make what he was reading fiction, but the similarities were what stirred him. Even more than that, the male character was, he realized, a perfect description of himself in all but name. The man even had a prosthetic arm that he couldn't remember getting due to memory loss from brain trauma he sustained in a war.

At first, he was confused. It didn't seem like she was trying to write an actual book, since nothing was in a particularly specific order, but he was stumped to figure out any other reason why she'd write such things. He abandoned trying to figure it out when he reached the final file, however, because it was a bit longer than the others and, as he could immediately tell, quite different from what he had read previously.

It described a hotel bathroom, a much nicer one than the one he had once had her half-naked and beneath him on the floor of in New York, and that was his first clue of the nature of what he was about to read. Heat started creeping up his neck once he reached the second paragraph, which described the two characters stumbling inside said bathroom and undressing each other. From there, reading the document became what was essentially taking a trip inside the more secretive places of Summer's mind and getting a firsthand description of how she saw him, what she wanted from him, and what she wanted to do to him.

None of it was particularly explicit, but it was detailed enough to make him read the words with a slightly open mouth and quickening pulse. The previous files had focused on emotional, subtle themes, making the physical and sexual ones of this one a shock, and while he knew that she was attracted to him and liked his appearance, he couldn't have quite known exactly how enthusiastic she evidently was about the prospect of intimacy. If "intimacy" adequately described what her character was doing to his while kneeling from a shower floor.

He wasn't typically one to blush, but it was impossible to not feel like his head was on fire by the time he finished the document. Unable to stop himself, he started reading it again, and he was so befuddled by it all that he didn't hear Summer walk inside the room or unsuspectingly and casually ask what was so intriguing for him on her computer.

He only realized her proximity when she walked to his side and glanced down over his shoulder to see for herself what had captured his attention so wholly. He tried to clear the screen but, being technologically challenged in addition to being in no state to properly function thanks to what he had just read, there was no stopping what happened next.

She screeched out a curse he'd never heard her say before and then all but tackled the laptop, closing it with a loud crack and accidentally knocking it off of her bed and down to the floor. Then she covered her face with her hands and started pacing, mumbling incoherently into her hands, and it took him a minute for his brain to catch up with exactly what had just happened.

Then she turned around and dropped her hands, revealing a face so red and embarrassed that it was even worse than Steve's when they'd caught him and Natasha together. "You must think I'm a freak, oh my God. It's not what it looks like, I swear. I'm not a... whatever it looks like I am, I'm not."

He stared at her, still sitting on the bed, face blank despite the fact that underneath he was one step away from grabbing her and bringing her fiction to life.

"I just - I write random things, to get them out of my system, and, uh, I usually delete it afterwards and I meant to delete that one too because I swear that's not the kind of thing I normally write. I don't do the fifty shades of whatever thing. And you probably have no idea what that is. Oh my God. This is horrible. I just - I've been super frustrated and..."

At first, he was amused by her rambling and embarrassment - he couldn't help it. She was adorable when she was flustered. But then he realized that she was on the verge of crying.

"... I can't stand it when people read what I write half the time anyway, so this is basically my worst nightmare, and if you just keep sitting there staring at me I'm going to jump straight out my window."

Now she was actually crying. And Bucky suddenly felt like a jerk.

She turned around again, covering her face with her hands, and he finally got up from the bed, horrified at how terribly this was going and how utterly wrong she had it all. He cautiously reached out his hand to her shoulder and said quietly, "Summer, stop. Please, stop crying."

She shook her head and tried to also shake him off. "Nope. Can't. You don't understand how awful this is for me."

Undeterred, he moved his hand to her waist instead of her shoulder and replied, "You haven't asked me what I thought of it."

"I don't need to. I can tell by the look on your face how weird you think I am now."

He rolled his eyes slightly and looked up at the ceiling for a moment. Then he drew a breath and replied, "Then maybe my face isn't what you should be looking at."

Before she could ask what he meant by that, his arm slid around her waist and pulled her against him, making sure her hips were pressed directly into his, and he hoped that would be enough to put an end to her ridiculous self-doubt.

Sniffling a little, she slowly turned her head to look at him from over her shoulder. She wiped at her eyes with her hand as her more normal blush colored her cheeks. "Oh."

He then took her wrist and turned her around, making her face him, and he said quietly, "I'm sorry. I didn't think you'd cry."

She shook her head and muttered, "I do that sometimes when I'm so embarrassed I want to die."

He moved her hair behind her ear and replied, "You shouldn't be." When she scoffed, he added, "You're good. I didn't know you were that good."

She eyed him warily. "I hope you aren't making fun of me."

He narrowed his eyes as if offended that she'd think such a thing. "I'm not."

Then she paused, looking down and cringing a little before peeking back up at him and asking, "Did you... read the whole thing?"

He nodded. She winced. "Twice."

She winced again, her painful flush returning to her face. "Oh, God..."

He tipped her chin up with his hand and leaned down, brushing his lips against hers before murmuring, "I like your imagination."

She groaned a little as his lips pressed against hers, breaking away a moment later to mutter, "This is still the most embarrassing thing ever."

Then, to his slight disappointment, she slipped out of his arms and turned away, walking towards her bedroom door in the boots that had to be killing her feet by now. He followed her silently, and to his relief, she was only walking to the door to close it. He waited until it was shut and she had turned back around to invade her space once more, pressing her back to the door and earning a surprised gasp from her lips in the process. She looked up at him a bit questioningly just before his hand diverted her gaze, moving to the doorknob and twisting the lock. He watched her eyes widen slightly and throat move as she swallowed before looking back up at him. "Uh..."

He wanted to ask her if her mouth really watered whenever he took his shirt off, like the story had said. He wanted to ask her about all the other details from it and ask if they were literary embellishments or the truth, but asking her anything like that now would only add to her embarrassment and be counter-productive. So he kept his questions to himself and kissed her instead, with all the hunger she hadn't meant to stoke by writing something that hadn't been meant for his eyes but had reached them anyway. She didn't resist, eagerly kissing him back, and within moments, he was walking her back to her bed.

They separated only to fall back on the bed, Summer first and then him next, one of her hands guiding him back to her lips while the other went to her own leg, towards the zipper of her boot. His hand covered hers and made her stop as he murmured against her lips, "Not yet."

She huffed a little and he trailed his kisses down to her neck as she asked, "What is it with you and these boots? Not that I'm complaining, but..."

She moaned a little as he nipped at the places he'd learned were the most sensitive of her neck, and then he raised his head, looking first at her lips and then her eyes as something occurred to him. At this point, after reading what he'd read and taking such an intimate look inside of her head in the process, he sort of owed her something.

While she looked at him in slight puzzlement, he leaned in and brushed his lips over her ear, softly speaking the same French sentence that he'd said on their first date and tormented her with ever since. He felt her shiver as he spoke, and after, when he drew back, she blinked a few times and asked shakily, "Did you just say something new or was that the same thing you said before?"

"Same," he said, kissing her jaw. "And it means," his hand slid from her hip down her leg, "that you look beautiful," his lips brushed hers and she trembled, "but that I'd rather see you in these," his hand curled around her leather-clad calf as he looked into her eyes, "and nothing else."

The sound that she made was something between a whimper, a whine, and a moan, and it made him grin with satisfaction. He pulled back slightly to watch her gape at him and struggle for words before finally asking, "You... that's what you said? On our date?"

He nodded, relishing her reaction and quite happy with his decision to withhold the translation until now.

She smiled. "Really?"

He almost laughed at her. "Yes."

The brief catch of her lip between her teeth was his only warning before she all but pounced on him, her embarrassment from earlier now an afterthought as she pushed him down on the bed and crawled over him, and from there, it was a half-mad and fully perfect spiral into chaos. Her boots stayed on but her dress came half off, his shirt was an early casualty, and they wreaked havoc on her sheets with the constant push and pull, for once blissfully free of any interruptions.

He had been on a mission to get her dress all the way off despite the belt making it slightly difficult to do so, but he gave up in favor of letting her push him so that he was half-sitting against the headboard and in perfect position to set her mouth to his chest. His eyes closed and his hand was at home in her hair, while her kisses turned into more courageous swipes of her tongue and nips of her teeth, moving lower, slowly, teasing the fire within and building it beyond his control. His eyes opened when he felt hands pulling at his jeans and lips dragging down his stomach, and his hand tightening slightly in her hair prompted her to look up him.

He opened his mouth but she swiftly shot back up and kissed him before he could say a word, holding him down when he tried to regain control by flipping them over. Of course, he could have overpowered her and flipped them with next to no effort, but he let her have her way, looking up at her with slightly wide eyes as her hands finished undoing and pushing down his jeans. He saw a tinge of anxiety in her gaze but the heat behind it overpowered it, and one more kiss to his lips sent another spark of heat racing down his spine.

One last thought materialized in his brain and came out in a disjointed rush of words. "You... we're supposed to... slow..."

"We've waited long enough, at least for this. Relax," she whispered against his mouth before slipping down, kissing down his jaw to his neck as he watched her go, suddenly feeling young for the first time, as far as he could remember, due to his sudden cluelessness as far as what the hell to do with himself, and specifically, his left arm.

Summer worked her way back down him like she fully knew what she was doing - maybe she did, or maybe she was faking, he didn't know - and his anticipation was on the verge of combustion as he jerked his arm up, then down, nearly panicking for a moment before throwing it back behind his head and gripping the back of his own hair with his metal hand, keeping it safely away from the woman currently trailing her tongue so close to where he wanted it that he had to close his eyes and tense his jaw to keep from groaning aloud with need.

But then, only a few seconds later, a warmth engulfed him. His eyes sprung wide and his mouth fell open, a sound foreign to his ears flying from his lips as his head fell back helplessly against the wood behind it.

The rest was a blur of heat and pure, desperate pleasure that made him feel genuinely happy to be alive again.

* * *

For the rest of her years, Summer knew, she would never forget the look on his face or the sounds he made, and she would never forget the way they made her feel.

It may not have been his first intimate encounter with a woman, but due to the circumstances, it may as well have been, and she was sure that was the reason why he was so wide-eyed, so seemingly shocked at what he was capable of feeling under the right touch. It brought an extra depth to a moment that would have been special still without it, and helped her push through her lack of confidence in her abilities and very limited experience. She let herself be impressed with her own bravery just long enough to finally get somewhere with him without a ringing phone or a knock on the door, and watching and feeling and hearing him fall apart under her touch was its own reward.

It hadn't taken long - understandably - but there was already an ache taking root in her jaw when she sat back, ignoring the mild pain in favor of looking over the panting and delirious pile of loose and happy super soldier in her bed. He'd slid down the headboard at some point, his metal hand never leaving its place in his own hair, and as she moved to lay down next to him, she decided to go ahead and take a moment to be proud of her herself. Maybe she was finally growing up after all.

"So," she said, curling up at his side and looking up at his for-once relaxed face a bit shyly, "did girls do that in the 40's?"

Her voice made his eyes flutter open, blinking a few times before taking a deep breath and raking his hand through his messy hair. "I don't remember." Then he shifted so that he could look at her, and when he did, her stomach fluttered at the satisfied, slightly sleepy look in his eye.

"Good, then you can't compare me to anyone yet," she smiled. He almost rolled his eyes at that, just before turning on his side to face her fully. She closed her eyes as he pulled her against him and kissed her, more softly than before, but still full of heat that reminded her painfully of her own unmet needs.

The kiss grew deeper as his hands wandered once more, his right one slipping down her legs towards her boots - she owed her sister in law a great debt for making her buy those things, and she was still in shock over the translation she had gotten at long last - then moving back up to run over her thighs, under the dress still trying to cling to her despite most of the top of it being yanked down. Her heart started pounding anew when his fingers easily pulled and slid her panties down, tossing the fabric somewhere out of sight as she opened her eyes and let him place her on her back. Though they were still more relaxed than she'd ever seen them, his eyes burned as they gazed down upon her. Then his hand was at her breast, teasing her as he brought his lips to her ear and said something indecipherable. She couldn't even tell what language it was, though it sounded like a smoother version of Russian, and after he started trailing kisses down her neck, she asked breathlessly, "Do I get to know what that meant?"

"Your turn," he mumbled against her skin, steadily working his way down.

She gulped and decided that Bucky stumbling across her personal literary ramblings hadn't been such a bad thing after all.

**A/N: ... So yeah, this is a far cry from what I used to write, but hopefully it's enough to still have some impact. And if not, then, well, at least this chapter has Mark facing a bit of justice, which was kind of fun to write. Anywho, my thanks and love to all of you who read, faved, followed, and/or reviewed this story, you're all the best and I adore you. My updates are getting kind of weird, I think for awhile I stuck to Mondays but then I got impatient and now it's always on different days but it's still once a week, so I have no idea. I'll probably update next Wednesday or Thursday lol. Til then, have an e-hug :D Oh, and my usual thanks to midnightwings96 for being amazing as always :D**


	8. Chapter 8

When Bucky opened his eyes the following morning, two things immediately struck him. First, he had awoken peacefully for the first time in a very, very long time. Second, he had actually slept, and he couldn't remember having had a single dream in the process.

Blinking in slight confusion, wondering how in the world he had managed this, he shifted in the bed a little bit and realized that Summer was still curled up against him and his left arm was slung carelessly over her middle. He slowly pulled it away from her, knowing how heavy and therefore uncomfortable it might have been for her, then glanced over her towards her nightstand, where her digital clock told him that it was just shy of six in the morning. He had slept for a solid and uninterrupted six hours, which was absolutely unprecedented.

A little bewildered by this, he silently pushed the sheets back and then stared for a moment at himself, confused for half a second until the night's events came flooding back into his mind. Then he looked back at Summer, passed out still in her half-torn off dress, and he had to swallow down the sudden urge to tear it off entirely and wake her up in a way that she would probably never forget.

But he had to leave soon, and that couldn't be helped. Making himself tear his eyes away from her, he slipped out of bed, grabbed his clothes and the duffel bag he'd stashed in the corner of her room, then headed to her bathroom.

Feeling rested was a strange sensation, and his thoughts were less chaotic and more organized than they normally were as he showered on autopilot. It was nice to not have to start with the water cold to wake him up fully, and even nicer to have the last night to think over and replay in his head rather than nightmares and dreams that he didn't want. How Summer had gone from profoundly embarrassed to, in his eyes, pure vixen in a matter of moments, and how she had completely disarmed him, made him remember what it was like to let go and simply feel...

And he hadn't hurt her. Nothing bad had happened. No flashbacks, no broken furniture, no unintentional bruises, nothing.

He had to wonder if she could possibly understand what that meant to him, the magnitude of what she had given him. He just hoped that he'd given some of it back. The way that she'd clawed at his hair and moaned into her pillow to keep quiet told him that he had at least repaid the pleasure she'd given him, and her sleepy kisses and shy but sweet gaze were the last things he remembered before sleep had taken them both.

If he could have, he would have spent the whole morning thinking on those memories and plotting how to make more, but instead, after his shower was over, he found himself faced with preparing for the day ahead. Inside his bag was a tactical uniform provided by Steve, wherever he'd gotten it from, and every other piece of equipment he would need for later, including one that he was having a particularly hard time coming to grips with, but he chose to ignore it for the time being.

He'd gotten the pants and a plain black t-shirt on, leaving the rest of the suit for later, when he heard a soft knock at the door. Not thinking of the open bag at his feet, he reached out and opened the door to find a tired and yawning Summer on the other side, wearing his black button down shirt and little else, her hair a wreck strewn across her shoulders. In other words, she looked perfect.

"Not trying to leave without saying goodbye, are you?" she asked, stepping inside and closing the door behind her. He shook his head, not prepared for the sort of effect seeing her in his clothes had on him, stepping aside while she bypassed him in favor of grabbing her toothbrush off the sink and turning on the faucet. If she was perturbed at all by his watching her brush her teeth, she didn't act like it.

Afterwards, she replaced her toothbrush and then turned around, looking him over before sighing, "So you really do have to go."

He nodded, watching as she frowned and then reached behind her to grab a hairbrush from the sink before hopping up on it. She tugged down his shirt when it rode up on her hips some, then started brushing through her tangled dark locks as she asked, "When will I see you again?"

"I'm not sure," he replied, feeling a magnetic pull bring him closer to her.

While his hand attached itself to her outer leg and the inches between them diminished, Summer asked, "Think you'll have super secret business down here a lot?"

He shrugged. "I don't know."

She sighed a little, brushing the back of her hair and replying, "This long distance thing seriously sucks."

He looked up in her eyes as she then set the hairbrush aside, and his hand curled around her hip and nudged her closer as he replied, "Then come back with me."

She smiled, shaking her head slightly. "Very funny."

"I'm serious."

Her smile faded slightly and she placed her hand on his cheek, quietly saying, "If it was that simple, I'd do it in a heartbeat."

He was about to protest more when she silenced them both by pulling him forward and kissing him. He wasn't yet done trying to convince her, but he gave in for the time being, nudging her legs apart to stand between them and pull her fully against him as he took over the kiss. She happily yielded, and when he broke away after a long moment, brushing his lips across her jaw, she asked quietly, "Are there a bunch of guns and grenades and stuff in that bag?"

"No, those are in my trunk," he replied, taking a handful of her hair in his left hand and pulling her head back so he could place kisses across her neck.

"Oh," she replied in a half-gasp. "Good to know..."

He made a noncommittal noise as he started suckling on her skin, making her groan before she muttered, "Why do you always do this before you leave? Makeup only covers up so much..."

"That's the point," he murmured, leaving several reminders along the side of her neck and down towards her shoulder before she pulled him back up and kissed his lips.

He was reluctant to let her go, but after a few moments she pulled away and asked quietly, "You hungry?" His eyes flashed a little as they dropped down her body and then back up to her face, and she amended with a grin, "For food. You should probably eat before you go off on your super secret adventures."

His hand playing idly with the hem of his shirt where it ended on her, he simply continued to look at her, enjoying the way he could still make her squirm and blush just from prolonged eye contact. In fact, after last night, she seemed to blush even more deeply than usual, casting her eyes to floor eventually to escape his gaze. When she did, he noticed her expression become curious just before, to his chagrin, she slid away from him and hopped off the counter.

Something from his bag had caught her eye, and she carefully reached down to pick it up. It was the thing he didn't want to think about, and he suddenly felt mildly uncomfortable as she looked it over.

"Is this... your same mask as from before?" she asked quietly, turning it over, looking at it without the discomfort he was currently feeling.

"No."

She glanced up at him and then said, "I guess... you have to wear it since you're... kind of... wanted?"

"Kind of" was putting it mildly. HYDRA's leftovers weren't the only ones looking for him. Tony Stark was technically harboring a fugitive by letting him stay in his tower, and Steve had crossed that line a long time ago, and so had Summer herself. "Yeah."

She nodded and handed the mask back to him. "Sometimes I forget that having you here in my house is kind of a felony."

He barely heard her, too busy half-glaring at the mask in his hands. He understood the reasons for having to wear it, but a rather large part of him would rather smash his fist through his own face than cover it up the way HYDRA had.

Then her hand covered his, and she took the mask from his grip before dropping it back into his bag. She then stepped closer to him and placed her arms around his neck, looking up into his eyes as she said, "It's not you. You know that."

He nodded half-heartedly, his rare good mood almost derailed by the mask and the unwanted memories that it brought. But she pressed her lips to his, and he had to wonder how it was that he could instantly feel a little better from such a simple touch.

After pulling away, she smiled and said, "So. Breakfast. Come on. David will be asleep for another few hours, so it's just you and me."

That brightened him up rather quickly. She shot him a grin and then turned around, opening the door and heading out to her kitchen, and he followed just far away enough to be able to fully watch her hips as she went.

* * *

Her decision to take a page out of the romantic comedy playbook and sashay around Bucky in his shirt and little else had worked out perfectly up until she learned the hard way exactly how distracting he found it.

As it was, trying to competently cook a man breakfast while said man lurked behind her and did everything in his power to try to make her screw up and burn something was a uniquely testing experience. She could handle the hand wandering along her waist and the maddening little kisses to her neck - barely - but she'd slapped his hand with a spatula when he tried to sneakily unbutton his shirt on her, which wasn't a very effective defense, because it only held him at bay for a moment before he simply slid his hand between the buttons in search of flesh that his kneading and light squeezing of left her a bit breathless. She gave up protesting, however, when she remembered that he would be leaving very soon and he really deserved the luxury of uninterrupted groping, if that was what he wanted, and she wasn't in much of a state to truly protest anyway.

After barely escaping ruining his food, she managed to wrangle them both to the table, where they ate in a pleasant silence punctuated by his occasional still-heated glances and her answering blushes. She let herself be distracted by him to avoid thinking about his impending departure and wondering how long it would be until she'd see him again. It would have been hard enough, but then last night had happened, and she was pretty sure that the world had spun off of its axis a tiny bit. And they hadn't even actually slept together. The universe might implode when that happened.

And yet, she wasn't sure if she'd ever look at his mouth the same way again. Watching him eat now seemed vulgar somehow, thanks to what her mind did when she'd see his tongue dart out or his lips close around a fork, and it took all of her self control to not squirm in her seat. But how could she not, now that she knew what that mouth was capable of?

At first, she had wondered very silently if he would even remember what to do, but apparently it was one of those things a straight man never forgot, even when they'd had their brain fried multiple times. It had ended up being worth every bit of the effort of swallowing her nervousness and mild embarrassment. Now she finally had a level of understanding for certain things that she had been lacking before, and she was withholding the urge to jump on the roof and scream jubilantly about it.

Instead, she kept her screams to herself and snapped back to reality, slightly, when she realized that he was done eating and she was done trying to pretend to be hungry that early in the morning. Acting out of habit, she got up and rounded the table, reaching out to take his plate and deposit it in the sink, only to yelp and break out into a smile when he grabbed her wrist and pulled her across his lap. She tried to think of something witty to say but he wasted no time in devouring her lips, holding her in place with his left arm while his right hand instantly started messing with her buttons again. She could feel his heightened desires, let loose just a bit more thanks to last night, and the way that he kissed her and touched her let her know that he didn't want to leave without at least some degree of a repeat performance.

But, she quickly discovered, their luck of avoiding interruptions had officially ran its course, and his phone rang in his pocket just in time to still his wandering hand as it had been sliding up purposefully between her legs. She smiled at the way he grimaced and straightened up, leaning back in his seat and taking the phone out to briefly glance at it before silencing the call and turning back to her.

"Have to go?" she guessed, running her fingertips through his hair as he nodded in reply. "Well... text me when you're done with whatever you're doing, so I don't worry."

He nodded but grinned a little as he answered, "Don't worry about me."

"I will worry. Worrying's what I do," she grinned back. "So don't forget to text me."

He nodded again, pulling her forward for another kiss. It was too short, and all too soon he was unwillingly easing her from his lap and standing up. He left briefly to grab his belongings from her bathroom, and when he came back, she hadn't moved from the table, wishing that she didn't have to say goodbye again so soon.

But, reality was reality. She sighed when their eyes met and then walked with him to the door. When they reached it, she turned around and pulled him into a hug. It was nice how he now immediately sank into her embraces and pulled her in closer, as opposed to his earlier, awkward responses to her hugs the first few times she'd ever given them. They had come a remarkably long way since then.

"I'm glad you came early to see us," she said, chin resting on his shoulder. "And thank you for beating the crap out of Mark yesterday. It was weirdly awesome to watch."

She felt his chuckle more than she heard it, and then she pulled away and smiled up at him as she said, "You know that what you did was basically avenge me, right? You know what that makes you?"

His eyes narrowed slightly. "Don't say it."

Her grinned widened. "I'm gonna say it."

"Summer..."

"My Avenger."

He groaned and she giggled, but she couldn't get anymore teasing in before he kissed her quiet. She enjoyed it while it lingered, which was as long as he could let it, before he let her go and kissed her forehead. Against her will, she then stepped aside so that he could reach the door. Then she spotted his jacket on the table and grabbed it, handing it over to him and grumbling, "You're about to walk out into below-freezing weather without a jacket. Maybe I do need to move in with you just to make sure you don't catch pneumonia."

"I don't think I can," he said quietly, taking the jacket and setting down his bag to slide it on.

"Well. Still."

The corners of his lips quirked up a little at that, and he leaned in to place one more kiss on her lips before picking up his bag once more and then opening the door. "Stay safe."

She nodded at his now-standard parting words and replied, "You too."

He nodded, then turned and headed out into the snow. She took the doorknob in her hand and ignored the very cold wind blowing on her bare legs as she watched him go, leaning against the doorframe and noting how it kept getting harder to say goodbye with each time one of them had to walk away. It was enough to make her wonder if maybe, just maybe, she really could seriously consider moving to New York.

Could she?

She was freezing by the time his "borrowed" car crunched its way through the snow and out of her sight. She sighed and closed the door, leaning her back against it and taking the collar of his shirt between her fingers, playing with the material as she brought it to her nose to enjoy his lingering scent on it while it lasted.

* * *

It was a particularly cold night in Alexandria, Virginia, but Bucky didn't feel it much as he stood on a hilltop obscured by white-covered trees and about a foot of snow. In front of him, down the hill and a stark contrast against the mostly bare landscape was a sprawling, state of the art medical complex. The last employees had left the now-closed facility a few hours ago, but apparently, underneath the building lay the reason why he was here.

"Tell me again why this is supposed to be HYDRA?" he asked the man who stood next to him, dressed in his darker uniform but with the distinctive stars obscured the same way the shield on his back was. It was a little pointless, but nonetheless, Steve was trying to avoid recognition from anyone.

"Got the coordinates from one of the leaked files," Steve replied. "And the neurological wing of the complex is named after Pierce."

He twitched a little at the sound of the man's name, but he ignored the feeling and kept staring ahead.

"I know you're sick of me asking, but -"

"_Yes_, I can handle it, and _yes_, I'm fine," Bucky interrupted, not bothering to mask the annoyance in his tone.

"I just want to make sure that you know there's no shame in changing your mind."

"Not changing my mind," he replied. There were many warring emotions simmering under the surface - anxiety, of both the good and bad kind, unease, anticipation, but no reluctance or doubt.

"We could go in there and find nothing," Steve added, "or we could find a lot. Just hope you're ready for either one."

Bucky didn't reply to this, briefly preoccupied by the distinct familiarity of the current situation - standing in the snow next to Steve, looking out over the site of their next mission. What he wasn't sure of was if it was familiar due to his own unreliable memory or due to the stories Steve had told him, but either way, it took him a moment to shake the feeling off.

Natasha's voice in their ears told them that she'd successfully disabled the security feed from within the facility, and that was their cue to begin.

He slipped on the mask and a pair of night-vision goggles, hiding a slight shudder when both were in place. It was too familiar and would have brought him to a very bad place mentally had he not reminded himself to stay calm and breathe, that this time it was he himself who chose to put it on, to be here, to fight. It was his choice, and he wasn't changing his mind.

He glanced at Steve, expecting him to be wearing a grim or at least slightly disturbed expressing at facing him like this again, but his expectation was not met. Steve simply gave him a nod and asked, "Ready?"

He nodded to the affirmative, and then it was time to go.

Sam followed them from behind, muttering something about being invisible and definitely not needing his own pep talk at all, while the three of them disappeared into the night.

* * *

"You were only Internet famous for like a week. Highly disappointing."

Summer rolled her eyes, holding her phone to her ear while stirring a pot of soup and answering her brother, "Yeah, I know. They stopped posting death threats after like three days and they all forgot about me like a month ago. Which I'm happy about."

"Meh. I was hoping someone would do some investigative reporting. Since my own investigation is about as successful as your novel writing."

"Hey!" she immediately protested, "I'll have you know that I have been writing lately."

"Writing what? The next great Twilight/Spongebob crossover fanfic?"

"Ew," she wrinkled her nose. "Is that a thing?"

"I don't know, but I'd ship Bella and Squidward. They're perfect for each other. Same expressions and everything."

"My gosh, don't say 'ship'. Doctors don't say that," she cringed. "And no. It's not that."

"What's it about?"

She paused and briefly closed her eyes when she realized that she couldn't actually tell him much about it, and anyway, why did she say anything in the first place? "Uh... a guy... and a girl... but it's nothing serious and I've just written little things out of boredom." Boredom and unspeakable frustration, though at least Bucky had temporarily eased both with his visit.

"Uh huh. So the usual, then. You know you're gonna need to get a job soon if you want to, you know, keep eating while you don't write a book."

"Yes, I'm aware," she rolled her eyes.

"And you know that I work at a hospital that I could easily get you a job at if you moved out here."

"I know," she replied in a less clipped tone.

"You could probably even get a boyfriend that you wouldn't have to hide from me."

She grinned and shook her head. "I don't think that one's changing anytime soon, regardless of where I live."

Paul groaned and eventually replied, "Of course."

Still stirring more out of habit than necessity, Summer suddenly wondered what Paul would say if she told him that she was half-seriously thinking about moving to New York. She almost blurted it out just so he could freak out and talk her out of it, but at the last minute, she bit her tongue. It probably wouldn't happen anyway - no sense in getting wailed at for an hour about it.

"So it's getting serious then?"

She bit her lip, considering her potential answers before replying, "I think it sort of always has been."

"Well, you know that traditionally, when relationships get serious, that's generally when you introduce them to the family. Or at least give the family their name."

She smiled and replied, "Well, I'm nothing if not unconventional."

She heard a burdened sigh on the other end, followed by a muttered, "I found an actual gray hair on my head yesterday. And it's your fault."

She snickered and went on to talk to him for the better part of the night, using his conversation as a means of curbing the urge to worry and overthink until she received the text from Bucky that he'd promised her.

But, long after she had hung up and ran out of things to occupy her mind and deter worry with, she still hadn't gotten the text.

* * *

The first shot that Bucky fired that night was silent and flew smoothly into the head of a HYDRA guard after he and Steve had descended silently down a stairwell towards the basement of the northeast wing of the facility. The guard had been rounding the corner towards the stairs, and Bucky had fired before Steve could throw his shield and neutralize the man in a less lethal way.

Steve glanced over his shoulder at the masked, slightly off-putting face of his friend and nodded. "Thanks."

Bucky acknowledged his words with a slight nod, stepping over the body and only glancing down at it to take note of the tiny but distinct HYDRA pin on the guard's collar. Apparently, here, they weren't even bothering trying to hide their true allegiances.

Feeling nothing one way or the other about taking that particular life, he followed Steve down the corridor, their footsteps silent and path empty until they reached a corner that led to another stairwell. Two more guards waited there, but Steve acted first this time, his shield hitting one in the head and then bouncing directly into the other's head, knocking them both out before they could so much as touch their weapons. Bucky stifled annoyance at the men being left alive, but followed Steve down the second stairwell anyway. Natasha and Sam were supposed to be waiting for them at the bottom of this one.

At the end of the stairs lay the basement, and a part of the facility that was locked behind a very large, very locked steel door. Four guards lay crumpled near it, courtesy mostly of Natasha, who he and Steve found affixing an explosive to the door.

"Took you guys long enough," she muttered quietly. "Senior citizens really do move slow."

Ignoring her jibe, Steve asked, "How many hostiles are we expecting in there?"

"Six heat signatures," she replied, stepping back from the door and adding, "On my count..."

Bucky watched as the door blew open a few seconds later, steeling himself for whatever lay inside and staring down the scope of his gun after impulsively tearing the goggles from his eyes and letting them clatter to the floor. They were little more than an afterthought as they stormed inside the room.

Everything happened in a blink of an eye, like a movie being rushed to the end credits, and that was what he had expected. Shots rang out immediately in their direction and the room erupted in instant but very brief chaos; Natasha took out two shooters with just her guns first, Bucky shot another in the head as they tried to dive for cover, and Sam covered Steve as he took on a very stupid hostile and felled him with a single punch to his head. Of the two remaining hostiles, one hid and the other tried to engage in a firefight, but was shot through the shoulder by Natasha and dropped with a loud cry. All in all, it was over in less than two minutes.

Steve immediately went after the hiding man, and for the first time since entering the room, Bucky allowed himself the chance to actually look at it. It wasn't just a room; it was a lab, and a rather large one. Equipment and machines were everywhere, all gleaming and new and lit up with data and calculations. Screens covered the walls, all flickering after the fight that had just ended seconds earlier, but a small hallway that was almost hidden in the far southeast corner of the room caught his eye more than anything else.

To his left, Steve was grabbing the remaining live and/or conscious operative, a man in a white lab coat, and shoving him in a chair while Natasha busied herself with retrieving data at what looked to be the main computer. Sam hovered near Steve, as usual, and the only one who noticed Bucky wandering off towards the hallway was Natasha.

He heard her discreetly tell Sam to follow him, but he ignored it as he raised his gun in anticipation of whatever awaited down the hallway. What he found were rooms, one after another, all empty of people, all containing various sorts of equipment that varied in how nightmarish they were. He kicked in the doors of each room and peered inside before moving on. Some contained nothing but large glass boxes, big enough to fit a human being in, while others held vials and vials of liquids, stores of chemicals and what looked like medical instruments. A few rooms resembled operating rooms.

A sick, knowing feeling settled in the pit of his gut as he neared the dead end of the hallway. The final room was guarded in a way that the others were not, behind a steel door of its own, and his heart was racing uncomfortably as he stared at it blankly.

Suddenly a hand shot in front of him and slid a security badge in front of a scanner on the door, and Bucky glanced up to find Steve, not Sam, as the culprit. He looked at the other man in slight surprise, but Steve merely looked at him with a gentle but serious expression as he reminded him, "I'm with you, remember?"

Bucky nodded, hoping the dread creeping up into his throat would prove to be unjustified. Then Steve pushed the door open, and Bucky held his breath.

The room was larger than the others, but it only contained a single item. It was large and stood all the way against the wall, tall enough to reach the low ceiling but narrow enough to leave plenty of space between itself and the walls. It was a tube-shaped chamber, and recognition instantly flitted behind Bucky's eyes as he let the barrel of his gun face the floor.

This was probably not the only cryo-chamber that HYDRA had owned. It was probably not the only one that they'd ever shoved him in. But as he stood there inching closer to it, staring at the dark exterior and the circle-shaped window near the top of the tube, a flash of memories flew dizzyingly through his mind and almost made him sick with the force behind it.

It was blurry and disjointed, but he remembered being shoved into the chamber, weak and confused and terrified after having had his mind ripped away from him. He suddenly remembered the stark white walls of the corridor and the doors of all the rooms, seeing them pass him by as he lay shivering and literally melting on a stretcher, being moved from one room to the other as he slowly regained consciousness near the end of a carefully executed thaw. He could nearly feel his long hair, icy and dripping on his bare shoulders as he blinked awake, facing the same terrifying state of confusion that he had entered his freeze in, waiting for instructions, waiting for something, anything, anyone, to tell him who he was and what he was supposed to do.

He barely heard Steve softly calling his name, asking if he was all right. His vision became dim and tunnel-like, he couldn't breathe, and he could feel the cold creeping up on him again, starting at his toes and his fingertips and quickly encompassing his entire being.

He was officially compromised. But he was also far too gone to recognize that or care.

Panic ringing in his ears, he stormed out of the room and rushed down the hallway, no longer in control of his actions or movements as flashes and horrors continued to assault his consciousness, building and piling until he felt cornered by his own fractured mind.

When he reached the end of the hallway and looked out at the lab with wide eyes and ears that could barely hear, his vision instantly focused on the white-coated man currently being interrogated by Natasha. The man looked up at Bucky once and paled with obvious and sinking fear and recognition.

And Bucky recognized him as well.

He marched towards the chair, knocking Natasha away with a backhanded punch from his metal hand that he didn't think about, sending her flying into a table. Sam backed off immediately, and Steve's yelling fell on deaf ears as Bucky grabbed the man by the throat with his left hand while he tore off his mask with his right.

The man's face exploded with even more fear, and Bucky didn't say a word as he squeezed his fist and cut off the man's oxygen. He had nothing to say, no coherent thoughts, no agenda aside from killing the man he could suddenly remember poking and prodding him, jabbing him with needles and even helping to throw him into the cryo-chamber. His mind was blank and his mission was singular and simple - kill the man like he had never been allowed to do before.

Meanwhile, as Bucky choked the man to death, Steve was shouting at nearly the top of his lungs just a few inches behind him.

"Bucky! Let go! We need him!"

Recovered from her own attack, Natasha braced herself against the table and looked from the dying HYDRA operative to Steve before warningly saying. "Steve, he's losing it."

Steve kept shouting, to no avail, and Natasha could only yield to Steve for so long before she decided to make the decision for him and step into action. She leapt up on the table and then jumped off, landing on Bucky's shoulders like she once had in the middle of a highway, but this time she immediately placed her wrists on either side of his neck and shocked him with her charges.

Bucky let go at the unexpected electrocution and stumbled back, away from the man who fell limply out of the chair to the floor as soon as he let him go. The charges weren't enough to incapacitate him like most of Natasha's targets, so he was able to reach up and grab her by the arm and throw her to the ground as he staggered away, looking around wildly and trying to understand what the hell had just happened. The shocks had somewhat awakened him from his previous delirium, but now he was caught between reality and the images in his head, each yanking him in different directions and resulting in pure confusion and fear as he looked around the room.

Steve was suddenly in front of him, gripping his upper arms and saying frantic words that Bucky didn't understand. Sam announced from his place next to the operative on the floor that the man was dead, and Natasha was back on her feet, gun drawn and pointed at Bucky out of well-justified caution.

He'd killed their only remaining and best source of information, possibly making the entire mission pointless. He realized this in a fog as he stared blankly at Steve, his eyes nearly as dead and lost as they had been six months ago, and the more Steve spoke, the more he showed his fear that Bucky was slipping away.

Driven by two opposite, warring impulses and thus able to follow neither, Bucky pushed Steve away harshly and turned on his heel, storming out of the lab. His head hurt, ached with images and voices that were growing brighter and louder by the second, and he could only focus on one word to guide his actions: out. He needed to get out.

Steve tried to follow him, to make him stop, but turning around once to punch him hard in the face seemed to drive the point home to leave him alone. From there, Bucky slipped out of the now-familiar facility alone, disappeared into a surrounding thicket of trees, and eventually ended up on a street where he stole a parked car and started driving on autopilot, having no conscious idea of where he was going and simply trying to find his way back to reality in the aftermath of what had happened.

If he had been functioning at his normal capacity, he might have known that a not-quite dead HYDRA guard lying on the floor had seen him as he had hurried to escape the facility, recognized him without his mask, and by communicating to a few off-site comrades set into motion a series of events that would result in the night ending in a way that Bucky could not currently imagine, let alone anticipate or thwart.

* * *

While Summer put David to bed, she focused on reading him his usual story about a knight slaying a dragon and made a concerted effort to not let her mind drift to the text that she was still waiting for. It was a losing battle, however, because her mind had been running rampant with worry regardless of what she did, and it was not a comforting thought to know that this was something she was just going to have to get used to.

But she was hardly the only girl in the world to have to deal with such a thing. Military wives had been doing it for decades, on a much higher level than she ever would. Bucky was much more indestructible than the average soldier, but she worried far more for his mental state than his physical one. As well as he seemed to be holding it together these days, she had no doubt how truly delicate that balance was.

Still, she forced herself to focus on the task at hand, reading until the little boy curled up at her side was was fast asleep. She then sighed and checked her phone in her pocket for the thousandth time before shoving it back in and setting the book aside, kissing David's forehead as she settled him in and slipped away.

Wishing pointlessly that Bucky could be waiting for her in her bedroom this night like he had been the night before, she flipped off the lights and quietly stepped out into the hallway. She planned on walking straight into her room to climb under the covers and obsessively check her phone in peace, but her kitchen light caught her eye as she paused and peered down the hall in slight confusion. She had turned off that light nearly half an hour ago. Hadn't she?

Shrugging to herself, she headed down the hallway, towards the kitchen, hoping that her memory wasn't going on the fritz, only to stop dead in her tracks at the sight of the very man who had never texted her like he'd promised, curled up in a ball against her front door and holding his head in his hands.

Her mind went blank with shock and her heart sank. She just stood there, staring at the slightly pathetic sight that he was, praying that something horrible hadn't happened to cause this while she finally willed her feet to take her to him. A thousand questions raced through her head and a thousand horrible possible answers joined them, but she shoved the thoughts away as she slid to her knees in front of him, hesitating only briefly before placing her hands gently on his wrists.

"Bucky?" she called softly, her touch as gentle and cautious as her voice. "What happened? Are you all right?"

He didn't answer or even move. She quickly looked him over, finding no points of injury on him, and continuing to speak softly to him as she eased his hands away from his lowered head. "Bucky..."

He finally lifted his head up some as she took both of his hands in hers and gave them a light, reassuring squeeze. Slowly, his eyes met hers, and her heart dropped a little more at how red and exhausted they were. They were also startlingly vacant, and she started to fear the worst in terms of what had led him to this.

He blinked a few times, trying to focus on her, and she drew a breath when recognition started to fill his empty eyes.

"Summer," he muttered, his voice sounding like it was grinding against sandpaper.

She nodded, bringing one of her hands to his cheek. "Yeah. It's me. You're okay. Whatever happened, you're okay."

His right hand reached up slightly shakily to cover her hand and press it closer against his face, while his eyes stayed locked on hers. "I shouldn't have gone."

His admission sent more alarms ringing in her mind, but she didn't let it show as she nodded and edged closer to him. "It's all right, Bucky. Is everyone okay? Is Steve okay?" He nodded, and she breathed a very quiet sigh of relief. "Can you tell me what happened? You don't have to if you don't want to, but..."

He was silent for awhile after she trailed off, but she recognized his expression as the one he always had when he was gathering his words, trying to figure out how to say what he wanted to.

But it wasn't Bucky or Summer who eventually broke the silence. It was the rumble and hum of a helicopter slowly growing louder and louder as it moved closer to the house that made his eyes finally snap fully into reality. He was on his feet with a blinding, terrifying speed, all but running to her living room window and peering out while she watched in confusion and sudden fear.

"Bucky? Is everything oka-"

He turned around suddenly and with fiercely wide and serious eyes said, "Go get your son and run."

Her eyes widened and fear became shock. "What?!"

"Grab him and run towards the trees, now - go!"

It was the first time she had ever heard him shout. She immediately leapt to her feet and and ran down the hallway, while the helicopter's engine grew steadily louder in sync with the panic clawing its way up her spine. She burst into David's room and drew him up into her arms frantically, blanket and all, and then turned and ran back the way that she'd came, never once doubting the urgency of what she was doing.

Bucky was at her front door waiting for her. But, the moment that his metal arm curled protectively around her shoulders just before they made a run for it, a deafening, blinding flash of light overcame her sight and sent her flying forward. Her arms tightened instinctively like a vice around the little boy in her arms, and two much larger arms than hers pulled her almost brutally tightly into the body beside hers as the explosion rent her house in two.

The last thing she heard before she hit the ground and lost consciousness under the protective shield of a super soldier's body was the sound of a second explosion and her home, and everything that she had ever owned, being reduced to little more than worthless rubble.

**A/N: dun dun dun :) hey, the crap had to hit the fan eventually, right? And I do love leaving everybody with a cliffhanger, if this qualifies as one. I guess it kinda does. Anyway, sorry about the shorter-than-usual length of this one, but my most eventful chapters seem to be shorter than the more boring ones for some reason. Thank you to all of you lovely readers and reviewers and followed, you are all the best :D also, thanks go midnightwings96 for having helped me with this chapter and the action-y stuff by assuring me that I had not, in fact, written the giant steaming pile of garbage that I thought it was (I hate writing action, utterly despise it). So with all of that said, I love you all, and I will see you in another week :D **


	9. Chapter 9

Cleaning up post-mission was a lot more of an ordeal without SHIELD there to take care of it. Where Natasha was used to slipping in and slipping out without having to give much thought to the bodies and wreckage that would result, this time she had to linger with the rest of her "team" and help see to such slightly mundane matters. What made it possible at all was Stark's money and some helpful connections with the CIA. Otherwise, she would likely be riding a tractor with Clint rather than hunting down what was left of HYDRA. Though that option seemed slightly more attractive currently due to the black eye she was sporting courtesy of the man she had warned Steve about his lack of readiness, to no avail.

Steve was pacing the lab floor, calling Bucky's phone every few minutes, and Natasha could only watch for so long before rolling her eyes and pointing out, "I think he made it clear that he wants to be left alone."

"And now is the worst time for him to be alone," Steve muttered, continuing to pace.

She sighed. "I know you mean well, Steve, but trust me - sometimes, being alone is the best thing in a situation like this."

Steve finally came to a halt, letting out a breath and staring down at his phone as he fell silent for a few moments. "I wonder if he went to Summer's house." Then he was calling her cellphone, and Natasha was trying not to roll her eyes again. Steve would be an absolute wreck if he ever had a teenage daughter someday.

A moment later, he frowned and lowered his phone. "She's not answering either."

Biting back a remark about the possibility of Bucky seeking unconventional means of therapy following a traumatic event, she pulled out her own phone and decided to check something as more of an afterthought than anything. She didn't expect to find anything actually concerning, but she did.

She looked up at Steve with furrowed brows and said, "Her tracker's dead."

Steve mirrored her confused look. "Who's tracker?"

"Summer's."

"What tracker?"

"A hair clip I gave her."

Steve looked like he had to physically restrain himself from asking why on earth Natasha would find it necessary to put a tracker on the woman, but his expression quickly grew worried. "It's dead?"

She nodded. "Lost the signal ten minutes ago."

Steve only took a few seconds before he muttered a quiet curse and headed straight out of the lab. Natasha stayed behind with Sam, preferring to stay behind with that mess rather than whatever sort Steve was about to run into.

* * *

Bucky was almost glad that Summer and her boy had instantly lost consciousness following the blast. It made it easier for him to carry them as he ran through the trees as fast as he could, cutting through the forest with dizzying speed as his mind reeled in the wake of what had happened. She was limp in his arms, her hair a nearly-black curtain whipping around her face with each of his steps, but her own arms somehow managed to stay secured around her son despite it all.

Nobody saw the Winter Soldier, dressed much like the weapon he'd once been, metal arm occasionally gleaming in the moonlight when it caught him, running with the utmost determination and speed in order to save two lives rather than take them. The instincts and the skill that had been drilled into him for years for very different reasons now came to life to save and protect, but his mind was racing too fast to grasp the difference of it all.

Somehow, somebody in HYDRA had followed him to her house. As he ran, surely they were scouring the wreckage, and they would find nothing but the remains of her home. They would know that all three of them had escaped alive, and they would simply continue their hunt to either snuff out a loose end or reclaim a lost weapon. It didn't matter why they were hunting him, really, especially not now.

He couldn't run forever, both literally and figuratively. David was wrapped up in a blanket but Summer was not - she was in just a camisole and thin pajama pants, and the temperatures were below freezing. To make matters worse, he had no idea where to go or which direction to run in to get her somewhere safe.

In fact, the very idea was laughable. He was the reason why she wasn't safe in the first place, the reason why everything she owned was now smoke and ash.

But he had to get her somewhere safe. Once she was safe, then she could wake up and hate him, and he wouldn't fault her in the least.

He ran until he reached a dirt road. He stuck to the tree line that ran parallel and eventually happened upon a paved road that led to a gas station and a couple of closed shops. He made a beeline for the first motel that came into view, slipping into the darkness of night and breaking into a room with almost no effort.

By the time he laid both mother and child down on the single bed afforded by the tiny, dim room, he was exhausted, but not so much due to the exertion of running what he guessed to be about fifteen miles while carrying them. His mind was still in a fog and there was a splitting ache in his head that had first appeared back at the HYDRA lab and had only grown exponentially worse following the unexpected destruction.

But he ignored the pain and the fog as he leaned over Summer's limp body, cringing at the dust and the ash that lightly covered her face and hair as he quickly brought the covers up to warm her chilled skin. Then he brought his right hand to her cheek and spoke her name, trying to rouse her. When his efforts yielded no faults, he pulled her into his arms, favoring the flesh one rather than the cold other one, and held her tight against him to help warm her as he continued to try to wake her.

As he gently tried to wipe some of the dirt from her face with his hand, she began to stir slightly. His stomach clenched unpleasantly and he dreaded the moment that he had to watch realization dawn within her eyes and hatred cloud the affection he was used to seeing there.

He held his breath as her eyes fluttered open, looking up confusedly at the ceiling before settling on him and focusing as much they could.

"Bucky..."

His jaw clenched but he couldn't get any words out. She blinked rapidly and furrowed her brows and asked with a gravelly voice, "Where am I?"

"A motel," he replied softly. "I'm not sure where. Fifteen miles or so from your house."

She stared at him for a moment in pure confusion. Then her eyes widened suddenly and she shot up and out of his arms, far too fast for her own head, half-gasping, "David - David - where is he, is he -"

"Right next to you," Bucky quickly assured her, making her lay back down before she made herself faint. She looked to her side and closed her eyes in relief at the sight of her boy, but he knew the relief would fade in a matter of minutes.

And it did. Her eyes opened and then widened, turning and meeting his as she muttered, "... My house."

He nodded, bracing himself for whatever would come next.

* * *

Her head hurt, her eyes hurt, and she was fairly sure that she couldn't hear anything out of her left ear, but all of that paled in comparison to the horror slowly dawning on her lagging mind.

The last thing she remembered was flying towards the ground as explosions rocked her house.

"Is it gone?" she asked in a tiny voice, though she didn't really have to ask. Bucky's face gave it away.

He nodded. "Yeah."

_Gone_. Just like that. The home that her grandmother had worked three jobs to buy decades ago and held everything that Summer owned, and a great many things that both her mother and grandmother had owned. All of it gone. She couldn't go back. Her shelter, her routine, her home, was gone.

She was vaguely aware of Bucky making her sit up and slightly more aware of the short, heaving breaths that burned as she tried to force them into unwilling lungs. He was holding her by her forearms, saying a bunch of words that she really couldn't hear, though she did catch "hyperventilate" amid the indistinct blur of sounds.

Just as she felt herself losing consciousness, Bucky gave her a firm, almost painful shake, and the force of it made her gasp and stop hyperventilating just long enough to keep from fainting.

"Summer, look at me. Breathe. Slowly."

She stared at him, some part of her brain noticing the desperation behind his eyes, and she followed his instructions. After awhile, her head started to feel less like it was about to separate and float away from her shoulders like a helium balloon, and she was able to focus on wrestling her panic into something more manageable.

It was okay. She was alive, David was alive, and Bucky was all right. In the end, that was all that mattered.

And if that wasn't exactly true, she didn't have to think about it right then.

When her breathing slowed down and Bucky seemed satisfied that she wasn't going to lose it, she felt his hands fall slowly from her arms and saw his eyes become pained as he muttered, "I'm sorry."

She shook her head. "You pulled us out, you saved us -"

"I led them to you," he grumbled. "Again."

"Bucky -"

"I'm sorry."

This time his apology came out as a self-loathing half-whisper. She felt tears prickling in her eyes at the sheer guilt she saw in his. She gulped down her racing emotions and said shakily, "I chose this, Bucky. You have nothing to be sorry for."

It was true. She'd never been forced into anything. What she gained, what she lost - it all ultimately fell back on her and her choices. And she knew that things like this were a distinct possibility when dating a very hunted man.

Bucky's vehement disagreement with her words took a backseat to David stirring next to her. She quickly turned her attention from Bucky to her son, shifting in the bed so that she was hovering slightly over him as he rolled from his side to his back and began opening his eyes. He was still wrapped up in his blanket, and the thought occurred to her that the blanket might be the only material thing that had survived her house.

"David? Sweetie," she called softly, knowing full well what the poor boy's reaction would be to waking up in a strange place in the middle of the night. He seemed to ignore her words, sitting up and looking around in confusion before starting to whimper slightly. She pulled him into a tight hug before he could start crying.

As she held him, she started to realize a few things. She would have to tell her brother what happened. She would need a new place to live. A new routine. Stability for the sake of David and his delicate mind. But now she wouldn't have a house that she owned, and her savings didn't have much life left in them. She would need to pay rent. She would need a job. Having a job meant needing childcare while she worked. Having that meant having a job that actually paid somewhat well.

Did she even have a truck to get to a job anymore?

She started crying long before she noticed the tears falling down her cheeks. It was all too much to process, too much to make sense of, and just the thought of telling her brother was enough on its own to make her freak out.

But the worst part of it all, the deepest, darkest feeling that settled beyond her ability to reach and ignore was the guilt. All of this had been her choice, and in the course of the six months since she had met Bucky, she had watched her son have a gun shoved at his temple and now, the only home that he had ever known was gone. It would have been hard enough for any kid to handle, but it was going to be an incredible challenge for a kid who needed routine and expectability and sameness to function at his highest potential. It could take him months to adjust to a new place, and if he had to adjust to daycare on top of that, it could very well end up being a nightmare.

And it was her fault. It was her fault for opening her home to a dangerous stranger, and her fault for getting attached to that stranger and giving him an enormous place in both of their lives. She had made the decision, for the first time since David's birth, to do something for her own sake and try to make her own existence a little less lonely and monotonous. And now David had to pay the price for that sliver of happiness she had tried to grasp.

As she nearly drowned in her own pit of self-loathing and convinced herself that she was the worst mother who had ever walked the earth, she distantly heard Bucky mumbling into his phone across the small room. She reached up a hand to wipe away her errant tears and sent a glance his way, only to feel new tears form at the helpless and distressed way that he was looking at her.

It wasn't easy, but she forced herself to stop crying. Perspective was key. All was not lost. Everyone was alive and well. They'd get through this one way or another. If there was anything she knew how to do, it was how to pick up and move on.

After she had willed the tears to end, a shuffling at her side drew her attention. She turned to find Bucky off the phone, kneeling at her side and looking at her with a gaze as tired as it was guilty as he said, "You two need to go to the hospital and get checked out. Just in case."

She nodded. "Okay."

"Steve said Sam would take you. He's the least... conspicuous."

She almost protested, much preferring Bucky to take her rather than a guy she'd only met once and hadn't really liked much when she had, but she guessed that there was logic in the choice. "Okay."

"They'll be here in a few minutes."

She nodded again. A part of her kind of desperately needed him to hug her, but she stuffed the need down and didn't say a word.

Then his gaze suddenly became more serious, even fierce, and he looked deep into her eyes as he said, "It's my fault this happened. And I hate it. I hate it. But I'm not gonna let it happen again. You're coming back to New York with me. You can argue and fight me but I don't care. You'll be safe there."

Though a part of her had warmed slightly at his heartfelt proclamation, she couldn't help but ask, "Will I?"

He nodded. "You're gonna live with us. I'm gonna keep you safe. I promise."

He sounded almost desperate to believe what he was saying, and as much as she wanted to believe too, she quietly replied, "Please don't make promises like that."

"But I mean it," he answered just as quietly.

She couldn't say anything back to that. She closed her eyes after he rose up to kiss her forehead, one arm wrapping around her to give her the hug that she wouldn't admit that she needed. She leaned into his embrace and took a deep breath, glad that at least he wasn't letting his obvious guilt drive himself away from her.

He might have been the catalyst to her loss, the choice she made that led her here, but despite that and her own tidal wave of guilt threatening to break over her head, she knew that she needed him now more than she ever had before.

* * *

Time passed by in a mildly sickening blur that left her more and more tired and yet no closer to rest as it dragged on. The trip to the hospital took about two hours, and Sam was nice enough as he helped Summer through the process of lying to the doctors and nurses about why she was there. She told them that there had been a house fire, which was apparently a story that Steve had suggested, and both she and David were cleared of any concussions or other injuries. David handled being examined as well as he ever did, which was very poorly, and no amount of pleading or bribing made him any calmer or more compliant.

When they were done, it was a relief. Once they were back in Sam's car, or whatever he was claiming was his car, David fell asleep nearly instantly and Summer slumped in the front passenger seat and let her mind run wild with questions that had been on the tip of her tongue for the last several hours.

"How am I gonna explain what happened to the police?" she wondered out loud. "I mean, my house blew up. I'm not that far into the sticks that nobody will notice."

"Steve's got a contact in the CIA who's taking care of it," Sam replied, eyes on the road. "Don't worry about dealing with the police."

She sighed and leaned her head back against the headrest, glancing at the driver and asking, "Are you used to this sort of thing?"

"Me?" He raised his eyebrows and chuckled. "Hell no. I'm just a regular soldier who ran into Captain America on my morning run and ended up doing stuff I never dreamed I would."

"Oh," she replied, a little surprised by that. She appreciated his lack of super-spy HYDRA/SHIELD experience, but she was no soldier and his being one made him infinitely more prepared to deal with this crap than she was. She was just a writer who barely wrote and a mother whose entire life was built around her son. A soldier was way more useful and a lot less clueless.

"Sucks that this happened to you," Sam added. "But on the bright side, now you get to live with all us cool kids."

She paused for a moment before furrowing her brows and asking, "... All of you? You mean... all of the Avengers or something?"

Sam glanced at her and asked, "He didn't tell you? Right now we're all at Tony Stark's tower. Well, not that I'm an Avenger, and they're not all there, but -"

Her eyes nearly popped out of her head. "Stark Tower? Stark Tower. That's where Bucky's taking me."

"I thought you knew," Sam half-grinned.

She shook her head and then closed her eyes, slumping back against the seat again. She'd been expecting some apartment like the one Steve and Bucky had occupied during her visit, not a freaking skyscraper crawling with tons and tons of people every single day, including a bunch of superheroes. She was starting to feel dizzy again.

Obviously Bucky was either too angry or too oblivious to have realized that this was something worth mentioning.

She made herself stop thinking about it to save her sanity, and by the time she had halfway successfully cleared her head, she looked around and realized they were in the middle of nowhere. "Where are we?"

"Almost to the airfield," Sam replied.

"Airfield?"

"Hell yeah," he grinned. "You're flying with Cap now. On Stark's dime."

Stifling a groan and wishing this was half as cool as it would be under any non-horrible circumstance, she stared out the window and tried not to feel a bit miffed that she wasn't getting the chance to say goodbye to her home, even if it was just rubble now. She'd gotten a text from Steve at the hospital - her phone had been in her pocket and therefore survived the blast - explaining that grounds would be searched throughly for fibers and other such things, and that if anything was found that had survived it would be sent to her. That was also when she'd found out that her truck had, in fact, not quite survived.

The safest thing to do, apparently, was get out of dodge as quickly as possible, and due to the nature of the attack, she wouldn't exactly be allowed to go traipsing through the wreckage anyway. There was nothing to be done about it, really, but she was still unhappy about it.

Then her thoughts turned to how she was going to keep David occupied on a plane - or anywhere - without his tablet or any of his toys. All of his beloved possessions were gone, and how could she expect him to understand that at his age?

Before she could work herself up into another crying fit, however, Sam brought the car to a stop in the midst of an open field. An unmarked private jet awaited them, and as he turned off the ignition, Sam explained, "Everyone's already onboard."

She nodded, glancing back at her sleeping son and hoping that he'd remain asleep during the jostling it would take to get him from the car to the jet. Thankfully, he did.

Walking up into the jet was an odd experience. It was stepping from one world into another, one that came with bottles of champagne and seats that looked way too comfortable to be on an aircraft. It definitely felt like a billionaire's private jet, not that she had any prior experience with one.

While she had been staring in a slight daze, Bucky had caught sight of her and suddenly filled her line of vision. She blinked at the change and realized he was speaking to her, but she missed nearly all what he said and just nodded as he led her towards the back of the jet. Clearly, her brain was not clear enough to function in much of a helpful way.

On the way back, she passed Steve and Natasha as they spoke in hushed tones and stood next to one another. Steve gave her a gentle nod and Natasha didn't look at her quite as coldly as she was used to, but Summer didn't have much to think on the matter. She was suddenly realizing how horribly tired she was, and she only managed the barest of nods back.

Wordlessly, Bucky helped her settle David into a reclined seat near the tail of the plane. She covered him up with his blanket and thanked the heavens that he had stayed asleep before straightening and turned her tired eyes on the man before her. He looked even worse than she felt, possibly.

They sat in two seats opposite David's, buckled themselves in, and waited for the short flight to begin. She immediately closed her eyes and laid her head on his shoulder, feeling sleep beg for her surrender as she muttered softly, "You didn't tell me you live with Tony Stark now."

She felt him lean his head on hers, and she relished the comfort of the simple touch as he asked, "... Is that all right?"

She gave a light shrug. "I guess. I don't know. I can't think."

"Try to sleep," he murmured, and she felt him place a gentle kiss in her hair.

She couldn't help but comply. There was a lot to think about, a lot to take on, and a lot to do in the coming days, but for now, all she could do was take the small comfort offered by the presence of the man beside her and let sleep take her.

* * *

Bucky stared forward, not moving an inch from Summer's side and not letting his eyes close any longer than was necessary to blink. He was exhausted and everything within him screamed for sleep, but after being so physically close to the essence of his nightmares earlier that night, he found himself fighting sleep with every last ounce of strength left in him. It was a far cry from his rare peaceful slumber from the night before.

He remained deep within the swirling fog of his mind until movement in front of him got his attention. He looked up to find Steve sitting down across from him, keeping quiet for the sake of the sleeping passengers. Bucky immediately looked away, opting to stare holes into the floor of the jet, rather than face the man he inexplicably felt like he had disappointed earlier.

He'd done a good job of avoiding his "team" until now. He remained silent and didn't look up when he heard Steve ask quietly, "You okay?"

Steve could ask some really dumb questions sometimes. He'd point it out if he weren't so dead-set on not speaking.

"Look... I hope you don't beat yourself up too much."

Now Bucky glanced up at the other man, a bit incredulously.

"That particular facility... was a very bad first mission for you to take on. I take the responsibility for that. If you want to blame someone, blame me."

Bucky nearly laughed bitterly. Steve knew he wouldn't blame him. Who honestly would?

"But we did get some useful information. It'll take some time to comb through it all, but..."

As Steve trailed off, Bucky looked away. He supposed that he should be glad that the mission hadn't been entirely useless, but he couldn't take much comfort in that fact. If the info led to new leads and new missions, he doubted that he would be invited along again. What good was he?

"How's she doing?" Steve asked quietly, motioning to the sleeping woman curled at Bucky's side.

Bucky gave a very slight shrug and muttered, "Not that great." It was true. He could tell how devastated she was, and how much she didn't want him to know. Even in her exhausted, still-shocked state, she didn't want to worsen his guilt. And that somehow worsened it more than open bitterness and hostility would have.

Steve nodded and then said, "I'm sorry this happened. We'll get her to the tower and... figure things out from there. I'll make sure she has whatever help she needs."

Bucky clung to his silence, afraid he'd snap and start railing at Steve for no coherent reason if he spoke. Thankfully, Steve seemed to sense his need for solitude, and in another moment, Steve got up and left with a parting pat to his shoulder.

When he sensed movement in his peripheral vision a few moments later, he opened his mouth to tell Steve to take the hint and leave, but then a swish of black and red appeared instead and settled down in the same seat Steve had sat in. He stared at Natasha blankly, his insides twisting a little bit more when his eyes flickered to the damage he'd inflicted on her face.

She simply leaned back, nonplussed, and said, "Guilt's a bitch, isn't it."

His eyes darkened and he prepared a diatribe in his head that would surely make her leave her alone, but she spoke again before he could get a word out.

"You're not the only one with guilt. One time I watched Steve literally cry because of the guilt he has for not looking for you after you fell. We all have guilt. Some of us more than others."

His hostility waned rather quickly as he processed her words. A slight furrow came upon his brows as he listened to the next set of words that she spoke.

"I warned her to think twice before she dove in. She knew the risks that come with you being... you. She chose to take them anyway. I don't expect you to listen to a word I say, but you should take it from someone who knows - save your guilt for your own choices."

"They wouldn't have gone to her house if I hadn't led them there," he muttered.

"Were you in your right mind when you went there?" she asked knowingly.

Of course he wasn't. He had barely realized where he was until Summer had found him in a ball against her door and roused him from his confused and troubled state.

"Guilt will eat you alive if you let it," she added, saying the words in a way that left little doubt in his mind that she knew very intimately what she was speaking of. "And the risks she's taken won't be worth much if you do."

A few seconds later, she stood up and began to make her way back to the middle of the jet. Before she left, he muttered a quiet, "Sorry about the eye."

She paused in the corner of his vision and replied, "Not the worst I've taken from you."

She said it lightly, almost as if she found some kind of dark humor in that fact. Then she was gone, leaving him to sit there and contemplate her words.

He barely moved for the rest of the flight, trying to reconcile what she said with what he felt and finding no real balance between the two. But one thing that was becoming increasingly clear was how utterly sick and tired he was of guilt.

Maybe Natasha was right. But maybe it didn't truly matter one way or the other if she was.

* * *

She awoke with a start, and for nearly five full minutes, she had no idea where she was.

She was in a large bedroom that made her old one look like it was from the Stone Age. It was minimalist and had the feel of a hotel room in its lack of personal touch, but the bed was gigantic and everything was too sleek to be any kind of normal room. Heart slightly racing, she whipped her head from side to side as she tried to make sense of her surroundings, only fractionally calming down when she spotted David burrowed under the covers on the opposite side of the bed.

Scrambling to remember, she muttered to herself, "Where the hell am I..."

"You are on the thirty-sixth floor of Stark Tower in New York City, Ms. McAdams."

To her later shame, she squeaked and fell out of the bed at the first word spoken by the disembodied, bizarrely British, voice that seemed to flow from the ceiling. "What the actual f-"

"My apologies, Miss. I am JARVIS and I run many of the tower's operations. It is just shy of ten-thirty AM and you have been here for approximately four hours."

As she calmed down from her initial AI-induced meltdown, memories from the day prior finally came flooding back in full. She sighed, the heaviness of it all returning as she got up to her feet and ran a hand through her hair. She could already feel a headache coming on.

"Okay... well," she said, feeling ridiculous speaking to the ceiling, "can you maybe stay quiet because my son won't sleep for a month if he hears you and freaks out the way I just did."

"Absolutely, Ms. McAdams."

Blinking at the oddness of it all, Summer looked down at her slightly grimy pajamas and wondered if she'd find a bunch of generic clothes in the dresser that sat against the wall opposite the bed. It turned out to be empty, but she did find a new outfit sitting folded on top of the dresser, jeans and a black tank top. She grabbed it and then wandered cautiously to the bathroom adjoined to the room, halfway expecting some weird sci-fi bathroom with a golden toilet and a shower she'd have to poke at for an hour before she figured out how to turn it on. But, it turned out to be a pretty standard bathroom, to her relief, and she took the fastest shower of her life before putting on the borrowed clothes. The jeans were a bit short, so she assumed that they were on loan from Natasha.

David was stirring awake by the time she made it back out to the bedroom, and that ended the moderately peaceful portion of her morning. As soon as he got one look around the room, he was clinging to her side and fidgeting with unease that she wasn't sure how to manage without her usual tools. She flipped on the television mounted on the wall, searched for the remote for nearly ten full minutes, then gave up with a huff and scooped the boy up into her arms as she decided that she was way too hungry to deal with that crap.

And so, with wet hair, too-short jeans, and an anxious five year old attached to her front, she walked out of the room and down a surprisingly long hallway only to step out into a large living room area and immediately come face to face with Steve, Tony Stark, and Pepper Potts. They were standing near the kitchen area talking when she stepped into view and immediately brought a brief silence upon the room.

"Summer!" Steve chirped with intentional cheeriness. "You're up."

She nodded, eyes darting between Steve and the tower's owner. Her first thought was that he was a lot shorter in person than he looked on TV. "Uh..."

"And not a moment too soon," Tony said, leaning against the island. "You're just in time for the grand tour of Tony Stark's Orphanage for Lost and Confused Ex-Assassins and Their Mentally Questionable Girlfriends."

She stared at him for a moment, not offended but simply not at full enough brain capacity for a retort. Steve sighed heavily and grumbled, "Can you show some sensitivity for five seconds, Stark? I told you what happened to her."

"Yeah, house blown up. Been there." He glanced back at Summer and added, "Sucks, doesn't it?"

"Yeah," she replied, moving towards the closest thing to a dining room table and trying to deposit David on it, but he was stuck to her like glue. She sighed and decided to stand there somewhat awkwardly. "Um... thanks for letting me come here. I don't want to be an... imposition, or..."

"Don't worry about it," Pepper quickly assured her, shutting Tony up before he could think about responding. She stepped closer, clad in a smart white suit with her strawberry hair back in a low ponytail, smiling in a way that seemed genuinely friendly as she said, "We have plenty of room here and it's no problem at all."

Summer nodded, a little surprised by how friendly she was being. "Thank you."

Pepper then looked at David as he still clung to his mother. "Is there anything we can do to help?"

"He's autistic," Summer explained, "and this is about the worst thing that could have happened to his routine. Usually he'd have at least his toys and his tablet to focus on, but..."

"I'm sure that I can find a tablet to lend you while you're here," Pepper assured her. "And on the twenty fifth floor there's a childcare center for our parent employees, so if you wanted, you could let him spend some time there. There's even a special needs room."

Before Summer could stutter out a thank you, Tony stepped closer and interrupted. "Speaking of that, I hear you need a job."

Summer turned her gaze to the billionaire, again struck by his stature (he had two inches on her tops), and she answered, "Uh... yeah, I guess I do, but -"

"Skills?"

She blinked. "I'm a writer, but -"

"Sweet, what have you written?"

"... Not much," she admitted with a slight cringe.

"Work history?"

Was this an interview? "Service industry."

"Burger flipping. Okay, and -"

" - Actually, I never flipped -"

"- Level of college reached?"

"Working on my bachelor's in creative writing," she replied, almost dizzy.

"What school?"

"The online University of -"

Tony outwardly cringed and grimaced. "I was afraid of that. Are you insane?"

She faltered at the unexpected query, and Pepper quickly interjected, "He doesn't mean that, he's just asking if -"

"No, I do mean it. You're dating the Winter Soldier. If you're a psychopath, I'd prefer to know before I hire you."

_Oh God,_ she thought, _it is an interview._

Before she could answer, Steve said, "I already told you, Stark, she's -"

"Let the potentially crazy lady answer for herself!" Tony said over his shoulder without taking his eyes off said potential crazy lady.

"I'm not crazy," she replied. "You both know the story from when I called you asking for you to give a message to him," she gestured to Steve. Then she grew a spark of courage and pointed out, "I mean, I get that I probably seem crazy to the average person, but you're letting him live here with you, so..."

"Yeah, not really happy about it though," Tony replied. "I don't usually let assassins who killed my parents stay under my roof."

She wasn't sure what to say for a moment. "... But you are."

"Still not happy about it."

Now wholly without a reply, Summer stood there awkwardly while Tony stared at her and Pepper focused on her hands clasped in front of her. Then, after the silence had gone on so long that it had surpassed awkward and entered into physically painful territory, Tony suddenly turned to Pepper and said, "So, does your assistant need their own assistant?"

"She already has one," Pepper replied.

"How about a second one?"

"I'm not sure she needs -"

"Great!" he smiled, turning back to Summer. "You can start Monday."

He then turned around and walked away, leaving Summer to gape at his retreating form and wonder if he was actually serious. Thankfully, Pepper quickly gave an exasperated chuckle and said, "Let me take a look at what we have open and make a few calls. I'll let you know by the end of the day."

_No big deal, just the CEO of one of the biggest corporations in the world personally looking for a job to squeeze you into_. "Okay. Wow. Thank you."

Pepper nodded. "And I'll see about the tablet, too. If you need help finding anything, just ask JARVIS."

Too dumbfounded to do anything but nod back, Summer then watched as Pepper told Steve goodbye and then left, leaving them alone. Suddenly feeling tired all over again, Summer plopped down at the table with David still stuck to her, looking up when Steve sat across from her. "Well, that was weird."

He grinned a little and replied, "Yeah, he takes some getting used to. How are you?"

She shrugged. "I don't really know yet. Okay, I guess. Things could obviously be a heck of a lot worse," she said, gesturing to her surroundings. "Where's Bucky?"

"Therapy," he replied. "Down in the basement."

"Oh," she nodded, hoping he wasn't in too bad of mental shape. "What exactly happened yesterday? Before the thing with me."

Steve frowned before giving her a brief overview of what happened, and at the mention of the cryo-tube and Bucky's subsequent meltdown, everything suddenly made a lot more sense.

"We must have missed somebody who saw him leave and had him followed. I can tell how hard he's taking it."

She sighed, hoping that Bucky wouldn't let this add to his already-crushing guilt issues, but he undoubtedly would. As she contemplated it all, her stomach suddenly growled very loudly, and she glanced up at Steve while cringing inside. He just smiled, and she looked down at her son's head on her shoulder and asked, "Hey, kiddo - you want to hang out with Captain America so I can get us some food?"

David replied by hugging her tighter. Not even Cap would do the trick, apparently. She sighed, then looked up at Steve and leaned her head back in resignation. She'd just have to figure out how to navigate a kitchen with a five year old clinging on to her.

"You know what, I'll fix you something."

Her eyes widened and she quickly began protesting. "Oh, no, no, you don't have to do that, really, I can -"

He waved her off and stood up. "Believe it or not, I'm pretty good at omelets. Not much else, really, but I've got those down."

And suddenly, Captain America was making her breakfast. She had a feeling that getting used to whatever this new, highly unexpected phase of her life would entail, it would involve accepting bizarre things such as this and just getting used to it.

* * *

Meanwhile, down in the basement, Bucky was glaring at his elderly therapist and preparing to fully take out all of his anger and frustration on him.

"So, how did the mission go?"

Bucky didn't hesitate to snap as planned. "You're a quack."

The doctor didn't so much as blink. "All right. Explain."

"You shouldn't have let me go," Bucky muttered.

"I've explained to you several times that I am not here to 'let' you do anything or control your decisions. My purpose here is to -"

"What good are you if you know I'm not ready for something and you let me go do it anyway?" he interrupted angrily.

The doctor paused. "I suppose that answers my question as to how it went."

"The place was a lab. I remembered it. They used to keep me there. And I recognized a man we captured. I lost it and I killed him. And then I left, I didn't know where I was going, but I went to Summer's house, and they followed me there and they blew up her damn house."

It all came out in a rush through gritted teeth, and the doctor's expression quickly grew concerned. "Is she all right?"

"She wasn't hurt, but she's not all right. And it's my fault."

The doctor looked down at his notes, folded his hands and leaned forward slightly before beginning, "Mr. Barnes..."

"I've already heard why I shouldn't feel guilty. I know what you're going to say and I don't care. I only came here to tell you that you're useless and doing this is pointless."

Dr. Connor scribbled a few notes nonchalantly. "I see. But tell me, if I had urged you to avoid the mission at all costs and tried to force you to sit it out, would you have?" When Bucky said nothing and continued to merely glower, the doctor added, "Did I not advise caution? Did I not express my concerns that you needed more time to prepare yourself? I wanted you to wait because this is exactly what I feared - that you would disappoint yourself and cause a significant setback in your progress."

"What progress?" Bucky scoffed. "How am I getting any better when I still can't remember anything but HYDRA and I lose it this easily?"

"You do yourself no favors selling yourself short. I've watched you progress with each passing week, and frankly, this outburst you're in the middle of is a sort of progress as well. You are expressing your emotions rather than trying to mask them and bottle them up. This is much healthier."

Thinking the old man was absolutely nuts, Bucky gave a humorless laugh and crossed his arms.

"Did you sleep the night before the mission?"

Bucky paused before muttering, "Yes."

Dr. Connor looked up. "You did?"

"Yes," he answered through gritted teeth.

"How many hours?"

"Six."

"Very good. You took the meds?"

"No."

"Then what helped? That's more than double your typical nightly average."

"None of your business," Bucky grumbled.

The doctor didn't push the issue, scribbling a bit more before speaking again. "Well, I have a few suggestions. First, remember what we talked about before the mission. It was really a trial run. I tried to prepare you for possible failure or a non-ideal outcome. It is a setback, yes, but keep it in perspective. Don't let it derail the whole of your progress. No setback is worth it. Secondly, I believe that you need a hobby."

Bucky furrowed his brows. "A hobby?"

"Yes. Since you believe that you are not ready for fieldwork yet - and I would agree - you need something productive to fill your time. Sitting around idly will do nothing but hamper your recovery. Your hobby could be anything - it could be building things, art, dancing, even farming - that's been working very well for one of my other patients. Anything that holds your interest and gives you a clear goal to work towards, do it."

Bucky was torn for a moment between the urge to tell the man once again that he was a quack, and the unsettling feeling that accompanied the realization that he really didn't know what interested him. "I don't... really know what I would want to do."

"Then find out," the doctor suggested. "Go out, see the city. Go to an art museum. Go to a movie. Go fishing. Try different things, see what you enjoy."

Bucky stared for a moment, trying to mentally poke holes in the suggestion, but eventually he merely ended up muttering, "The one thing that I know I'm good at, I can't do."

The doctor nodded understandingly. "But I don't believe that will be true forever. It was only six months ago that you were still under HYDRA's control. These things take time. I've seen men subjected to far less torture and mind control than you take years to return to their jobs. It's not easy, but you must try to be patient. And ask Steve in the meantime if you can utilize your skills in other ways that would be helpful to your cause - training others, perhaps?"

Bucky shrugged noncommittally, letting his gaze hit the floor as he thought. He wasn't sure how much time had passed before the doctor spoke up again.

"The girl, how is she holding up?"

Bucky looked up at the mention of her and said, "She was sleeping when I came down here. I don't know yet."

"She's here?"

He nodded. "She's not safe anywhere else."

"I see. Unless you're still convinced of my uselessness, I would be willing to see her as well, if she feels like she could use the extra help."

Bucky nodded, only half-listening. He was too busy clinging to his fear that this whole mess would turn her against him.

"Would you care to share the memories you gained from the lab?"

Bucky sighed. He didn't care to do it, but he told the useless quack anyway.

* * *

Later on, Summer built a quasi-picnic on the floor of her new bedroom. The TV was on cartoons and David had a new tablet to tinker with courtesy of the apparently very nice Pepper Potts, and she had an array of food spread out before him in the hopes that he would at least nibble on some of it, but so far, no such luck, just as she'd feared.

He wanted his toys and his home, and her gentle explanations for why he could have neither had so far only served to make him cry and her feel worse. Steve's presence hadn't even been enough to make him crack a smile. The tablet was the only reason why he was somewhat calm at the moment, but she could not say the same for herself.

She needed to go out and buy them both clothes. She had no idea if she was supposed to buy her own food or if it was fine to just take whatever was already in the kitchen. She still hadn't called her brother to break the news that their grandmother's house was now smithereens. She also had not yet called her college to ask for a leave of absence due to narrowly escaping death - again - at the hands of neo-Nazis, but she really needed to, because there was no way she could focus on school in the middle of all of this.

But instead of doing any of that, she sat on the floor with her back to the floorboard of the bed, watching David not eat, and thinking about all the ways in which her current situation could end in further disaster. She jumped in surprise when she heard her door click open, then sighed in relief when it was Bucky who walked in. She half-expected it to be a robotic housekeeper like from the Jetsons.

He was quiet as he made his way to her, and she kept her eyes on the dark-screened phone in her hands as he slid down to sit next to her. For awhile, neither of them said anything, and the silence was comfortable. It only ended when her phone buzzed and made her jump again.

It was a text from her blissfully ignorant brother, probably quoting a Harry Potter line or making a new guess on the identity of her secret lover. She didn't slide the screen to find out. "I need to be an adult."

"What?"

She hadn't meant to say that out loud. Now she had to explain. "I need to tell my brother what happened. I need to call my school. I need to go shopping. I need to get my mail forwarded. I think my cell phone bill is even due too. I need to do all this crap and be an adult and instead I'm sitting here doing nothing except praying for him to just take a bite of food."

She glanced at Bucky to find him eyeing her slightly curiously, and she explained, "The times before when he's had big changes happen or his routine gets majorly thrown off, he refuses to eat. I've had to put him in the hospital before, when he went a week not eating and barely drinking. It was horrible. And he doesn't understand where his toys are and where his house is. I don't know what to do. And I really want to tell my brother because I need him right now, like a lot, but how do I even begin to explain it to him without telling him about you? And if I do tell him about you, he'll just blame you and hate you before he even meets you."

She knew she was rambling, but Bucky didn't try to stop her, so she kept right on going. "And on top of all that, I'm really freakin' pissed off at those Nazi dickheads right now. Do you know how pissed my grandma would be if she knew that Nazis - the same evil people who killed her husband - blew up her house?! She would go get her shotgun and hunt them down herself! And that's another thing - all my pictures of her and my parents were in that house. David's baby pictures too. The material stuff is just whatever, because I can get it all back eventually, but I can't get those pictures back. And the memories." Then she paused and looked up at Bucky with slight shame in her eyes and muttered, "And I'm sitting here complaining about memories to someone who doesn't even have most of theirs. I'm stupid and selfish and... stupid."

Then she was being pulled into a warm embrace, and she instantly melted into the hug as she continued to inwardly berate herself. She sighed and closed her eyes, hoping that her rant didn't make his guilt any worse.

"You're not," she heard him eventually reply.

They sat there like that, her head on his shoulder and their arms wrapped loosely around one another for awhile, to the soundtrack of Spongebob on the TV and various noises from David's borrowed tablet. As simple as it was, his presence and touch helped to center her focus enough to finally gather her wits enough to take on the day and everything she had to do in it.

Except call her brother. That one she would save for some undetermined time when she had the slightest clue how to break the news to him in a way that wouldn't result in him having a heart attack and calling the FBI.

Just when she was ready to peel herself away from her rather comfortable position, a semi-creepy automated British voice once again made her jump out of her skin.

"Miss McAdams, Miss Potts has asked me to inform you that a position is available in her office that you may be interested in."

David instantly came scrambling into her arms at the first word from JARVIS, looking around wildly for the source of the voice. After trying to explain to him what it was, she looked up at the ceiling and said, "Uh... Okay."

"If you are interested, her assistant would like to interview you at nine AM next Thursday. Shall I confirm the appointment?"

She'd never been an assistant before, but how hard could it be? It was simple stuff, she was pretty sure, and if it was just an elevator ride away, then that was as close to ideal as she was going to get. "Yeah... confirm, I guess."

"Right away, Miss."

Drawing a breath, she glanced at Bucky and muttered, "Now I really have to go shopping."

He answered her by placing a gentle kiss on her lips, which earned him a half-hearted glare from David before he scooted off of her lap and back to the floor. Summer let herself smile at that for a moment before stealing another kiss and then asking, "Want to come with me?"

His hesitation was instant. "I don't know if I should..."

"Well, I don't know if you should really sit around here all day after what happened yesterday," she replied. "And, it's, you know, a boyfriend requirement. Suffering through boring shopping trips." She smiled weakly, trying to convince him and pretty sure she wasn't doing a very good job of it.

"... Maybe," he finally muttered. She smiled and kissed him again before getting up to take a bathroom detour before heading out for her first and wholly unexciting shopping trip in NYC.

She left her phone on the floor next to Bucky, and after she re-emerged, she remained ignorant of how he stared at it for a moment before picking it up and pressing a few buttons before putting it back down where she'd left it.

* * *

He was fairly sure that his idea was either very stupid or very necessary - there was no in between. But the idea began forming the moment that Summer had told him how much she needed her brother and then expressed how the main reason why she wouldn't reach out to him was due to how he may react to Bucky. And that was not acceptable.

He was the reason her house blew up. The least he could do was make sure she had her only living family apart from David with her while she came to terms with the dramatically different new direction of her life.

And that was how he ended up looking up her brother's number on her phone and then punching it into his own phone before typing out a message addressed to it.

_You don't know me, but I know your sister and she needs you. She's safe and her son is safe but something happened and she's afraid to tell you_. Then he typed the address of Stark Tower, not mentioning the tower itself, and added that it was where she was staying. Then he hit send before he could change his mind.

Technically, he knew that he was probably not allowed to invite random doctors from California to a tower currently housing superheroes and ex-spies. He also knew, however, that he didn't particularly care what he was or wasn't allowed to do, particularly when it came to doing something for the welfare of the woman whose life he seemed to keep inadvertently making worse.

Maybe she could be his hobby while he figured out a different one. And the clear, obtainable goal would be to fix what he hadn't meant to break and see her happy and back on her feet. Hopefully, this was step one.

**A/N: And thus begins the New York/Avengers tower phase of the story :) and it just wouldn't have been right to have it happen in a pleasant, non-angsty, non-house blowing up way, so here we are :p Expect to see more Avengers in the future but nothing too crazy, since the focus of course will still be on our two main characters and large group scenes can get kind of tedious after awhile, but they'll all be around and it'll be fun. Sorry (but not really) for last week's cliffhanger, and my huge thanks to all of you readers and reviewers as always, I love you all tons and tons and bunches and bunches :D and midnightwings96, who helped point out several things in this chapter that would have made me look like an idiot had I not fixed them (seriously, my brain sometimes) and is just always awesome. I shall see you guys next week! :D **


	10. Chapter 10

It was a quiet morning on the 36th floor of Stark Tower, silent aside from the occasional clatter of forks against plates and the random sounds of a game playing from within David's hands. The boy sat at a table with four others, including his mother, who was already exhausted after making a veritable buffet of French toast for her new... roommates?

Seriously, making breakfast for genetically engineered soldiers was no small task. And Sam wasn't much better.

She ate her own food quietly, glancing at David's untouched plate - of course - and then at Bucky, who sat on her other side, inhaling his food. Steve had charmingly offered his compliments through his first mouthful, and after that, aside from a few words here and there, it had been a mostly silent affair. She assumed that this, her second morning at the tower, was how most of mornings would be. Definitely a change from her usual semi-solitary mornings, but not a bad change.

"Tell you what," Sam said, eating the last bite on his plate before looking across the table to her, "it sucks that you came here under these circumstances, but damn, it's good to have a woman's cooking." Then he glanced at Steve and added, "No offense to your omelets, Cap."

Steve shrugged him off, nodding his agreement, and Summer's coffee-awakened brain detected a grand opportunity to mess with the two men. She straightened her features to appear annoyed and replied to Sam, "What, so cooking is a woman's thing? You can't learn how to make French toast because you're a guy? Really? Or do you just think that a woman's place is in the kitchen?"

Sam's cheerful expression faltered, and Steve swallowed a large mouthful of food as slight horror suddenly dawned on his face. Even Bucky looked surprised, looking at her curiously as she forced herself to keep from bursting out laughing.

Sam finally replied, "I didn't mean it like that... I'm..."

She couldn't take it anymore. She cracked a grin and started laughing. "I am so messing with you. But the look on both your faces was priceless," she said, gesturing to Steve and Sam, who were both chuckling in relief.

As she laughed, she glanced at Bucky and felt an unexpected warmth at the small, appreciative grin that he wore on his face he lifted his coffee cup to his lips. Before she could make goo-goo eyes at him too long, Sam remarked, "Thanks for freaking me out at eight in the morning. Haven't even had half my coffee yet."

"You're welcome," she grinned, raising her cup in a mock toast.

"Hey," Steve shrugged, "at least you didn't call her a dame and ask her questions about fondue." When every adult at the table grew visibly confused, he shrugged again. "Long story."

Then a moment passed, and the previously very silent Bucky looked up from staring slightly intensely at his plate and repeated, "Fondue?"

Summer then looked to Steve, who looked like he was about to wave the question away before his expression suddenly turned slightly serious. "Do you remember that? You weren't there but I told you about it."

Bucky stared for another few seconds and then asked, "Does it have to do with the girl?"

Summer watched Steve's eyes take on a fleeting sadness as he nodded. "Peggy, yeah."

Sam turned curious eyes on Steve and asked, "Did you ask her out for fondue or something?"

"No," Steve sighed. "Howard Stark asked her if she wanted a 'late night fondue' and I thought that meant..." he gestured vaguely with his hand, aware of the little ears at the table.

Summer choked on the coffee she was sipping and tried to cover up her giggles with a cough. Sam laughed outright, and Steve rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I know, it's hilarious. And of course you would remember that, of all things, Bucky."

Bucky shrugged. "I think I laughed and said you were an idiot."

"Yep."

Sam raised an eyebrow and said, "Well, at least you finally got to have some fondue, seventy years later."

Now she had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. She glanced at Bucky, who then glanced at her, and there was something subtle in his eyes that made her look away with a slight blush. She could totally go for some fondue of her own.

But instead of dwelling on the finer points of liquid cheese and the almost adorable embarrassment on Steve's face, she checked her phone that laid in front of her and frowned a little. She hadn't heard from her brother since the day before, and that was very odd for him. She still hadn't told him about the house getting blown up or her current whereabouts, having occupied herself the day before with shopping and trying to make her new room semi-comfortable for David, but she knew she had to do it today. He needed to know, and she needed to stop putting it off.

So, she decided, she was officially not going to put it off anymore.

Later.

Maybe after lunch.

Once the fondue talk had run its course and all the plates were empty - minus David's, though he did eventually take a solitary bite - she started gathering them all up out of habit and taking them to the sink. The kitchen was so incredibly modern compared to what she was used to, and the single most attractive thing about it was the dishwasher. She'd never had one before, and the appliance inspired almost as much lust in her as the man who had brought her to the tower. Almost.

But as she went to rinse off the plates in the sink, they were suddenly snatched out of her hand, and she looked up to find Bucky as the culprit. He gave her a look like she should know the routine by now, and she smiled and shifted to the side as he flipped on the water.

She almost asked if he knew how to load a dishwasher, but she decided to keep the question to herself and lingered, leaning against the counter and wondering how someone who hadn't been allowed to be human for decades could be as amazing as he was.

The day before, he had relented from his initial protests and tagged along in disguise as she bought the essentials for herself and David - mostly clothes and other essentials, and some of the toys that David had lost in the explosion. After enduring that, she had used him to rearrange her room and move a smaller bed into it for David until he felt secure enough to sleep in a room of his own again. Bucky had carried the mattress in from an empty room like it weighed little more than a Dorito, and he hadn't complained when she made him move the furniture around multiple times when nothing felt right.

But, most importantly, he had stayed with her through her first night at the tower, and everything seemed a lot less intimidating and frightening when he was there to fall asleep on. He was gone when she woke up, but she'd expected that.

And now he was cleaning up for her after she had cooked, a habit of his, and she found that she simply could not get used to such treatment. It was far too opposite of what she'd had in the past. Surely he would just get comfortable after awhile and it would stop. Nobody was that perfect. Right?

"So, you knew all about fondue back in the day," she observed casually, her back to the counter as he dropped the plates into the empty dishwasher. Apparently he did know how to use it.

He gave her an indistinct look. "That's what he tells me."

"You've gotta remember some of it," she pressed. "I know I've asked before, but..."

"Why do you want to know?" he asked, genuinely puzzled, closing the dishwasher door.

"I don't know. Curious, I guess," she shrugged. "I've seen your pictures from back then. I'm sure you got plenty of... fondue."

She decided then that she may forever use that word as code whenever David was around. Bucky responded by turning off the tap and turning towards her. "I don't remember eating cheese and bread."

She rolled her eyes but smiled at him anyway, wishing he'd come a bit closer. She knew he probably wouldn't, though, because if there were others around, she'd noticed long ago, he kept his affections to himself. She was also getting the feeling that recent events had led to him backing off a bit physically, but she needed more than a day to determine that one.

"So, any plans today?" she asked, changing the subject.

He shrugged. "No."

"Me either," she sighed. "Aside from making stupid phone calls. I really need to call my brother."

Something flickered across his face at her words, but she thought she'd imagined it. She was wondering exactly what to do with the day when JARVIS piped up and made her nearly jump.

"Ms. McAdams, there is a bit of a scuffle taking place on the first floor between the staff and a Mr. Paul McAdams."

She blinked and then furrowed her brows, the words making no sense at first. "What?"

"A man claiming to be your brother is refusing to leave the building until he sees you."

Her eyes widened and she felt her jaw drop as her brain struggled to comprehend this latest bit of information. There were so many reasons why what the AI said was impossible that she almost laughed, but instead she stuttered, "Uh... wh-... um... but..."

"Might I suggest you head down to the first floor before security removes him from the premises?"

"Yeah," she answered the ceiling, "Okay.

Now it was time to panic.

"How did he know I'm here?" she asked nobody in particular, completely missing the slightly guilty look on Bucky's face. Then she looked up at him and asked, "Can you watch David?"

There was a flash of panic in his eyes but she didn't give him a chance to say no before she rushed off towards the elevator, mind suddenly working a mile a minute, thinking that it had to be a mistake. It just had to be. Unless Paul was secretly a super spy and had tracked her cell phone location, there was no way he could know where she was. She'd barely been there more than a day!

But, after she descended the many floors down to the first and then stepped into a small sea of mostly suit-clad other bodies, she was soon faced with the bizarre truth of the matter.

"I am not a stalker! Or a terrorist! Check my shoes, there's no bombs in there!"

Near the front doors, past the gigantic front desk, was her redheaded brother, being manhandled by three security guards and yelled at by a slightly overweight guy in a suit.

"I've never even heard of the girl you're saying lives here, and I run the security for the whole building," the guy in the suit replied.

She hurried forward and waved her arms around slightly stupidly. "That's me! He's okay! That's my brother."

The struggle momentarily ceased, and Paul looked at Summer with a mix of relief and something that gave her the impression that he wanted to kill her. The man in the suit turned his confused gaze to her and asked, "And who the hell are you?"

"I'm - uh... I'm on the thirty sixth floor," she said, hoping he'd know what that meant since he claimed to be head of security.

"Since when?"

She glanced nervously at Paul and muttered, "... Two nights ago."

"And who brought you there?"

"I did," came a distinct voice, and Summer cringed again and watched Paul's eyes widen exponentially as Steve marched up to the scene. "Is there a problem here?"

Suit-guy's demeanor instantly changed, and the security guys finally let go of Paul. "No, not all. Just trying to do my job and keep this building safe, which would be easier to do if someone kept me updated on who's living in it."

"Sorry, Mister... Happy," Steve frowned a little as he said the odd name. "She's with us. I'll take it from here."

The guy with the weird name threw his hands up, muttering something about his job and how he was going to lodge a major complaint with Stark later, but all Summer could focus on was the way that Paul was staring at Steve. His face told her that he hadn't quite fully grasped her association with the world's first superhero until that moment, and she prayed that he wouldn't freak out.

Yeah right. He was gonna lose it, just probably not over Steve. It was unavoidable.

Steve turned and smiled and Paul and held out his hand. "Steve Rogers."

"... Paul," he replied, shaking his hand a bit awkwardly. "This is already the weirdest day of my life."

Summer couldn't take it anymore. "Why are you here? How did you find me?"

Handshake over, Paul whipped his phone out of his pocket and waved it. "I got a weird text from a weird number saying something bad happened and you needed me and that this was where I could find you."

Her eyes widened and she snatched the phone from his hand, quickly and correctly guessing his passcode - "Expelliarmus", how predictable - and pulled up his text messages. One look at the text in question and she closed her eyes briefly and muttered, "Bucky..."

"Bucky?" Paul repeated. "Who's that? Is that the secret boyfriend? What kind of name is that?"

As she handed his phone back, Steve looked back and forth between them for a moment before saying, "Look... obviously, the two of you have a lot to talk about, so why don't we go upstairs and you can sit and... catch up."

And have a meltdown of epic proportions. Summer nodded and then she and Paul were following Captain America to the elevators. Her mind raced with the realization that she was going to have to pretty much spill everything, and before she could start panicking again, she heard Paul ask, "Where's David?"

"Upstairs. With... someone."

"Why are you in New York? And here?"

"It's a long story, okay, just... give me a few minutes to get my head together," she muttered, stepping into the elevator after Steve and genuinely trying to do so.

Then the three of them stood there silently as the elevator smoothly came to life. Summer stared at the upwards-moving floor numbers, trying to ignore the awkwardness in the air, only to have her highly uncalm thoughts interrupted by Paul asking, "Seriously, what kind of name is Bucky? Is it that one guy from American Idol like six years ago?"

She sighed. "Think more sixth grade history."

"Sixth grade... huh?"

She sighed again. "Just stop talking."

"Hey, don't get testy with me, kid. You haven't even given me a hug yet."

She sighed for a third time, nearly deprived of oxygen at this point, and asked, "How did you even get here so fast?"

"I told the hospital it was a family emergency and Sarah got her mom to come and stay with her while I caught a flight here," he explained.

"Just like that? You just pick up and come here?"

"Uh, yeah," he replied like she shouldn't even ask such a stupid question "So are you gonna tell me what bad thing happened and why I got that text?"

The elevator doors opened, saving Steve from being stuck with the two bickering siblings but condemning Summer to her inescapable fate as they stepped off and into the common living area that awaited them. She hoped that Bucky would have gone to his room, so that she could break the news to Paul easily - well, easily-ish - but apparently nothing that day was going to be easy.

Bucky was sitting on one of the couches across the room, David sitting next to him, and by the looks of it, they were playing something on his tablet together. Ordinarily, this sight would have made her feel warm and goofy, but the problem was that Bucky was wearing a t-shirt and his arm was slung over the back of the couch, shining rather brightly under the rays of sun shining in through the giant picture windows behind him.

One look and Paul skidded to a halt mid-step. Bucky looked up, first at Summer and then at the stranger at her side, and she looked nervously between the two of them, utterly useless for a moment.

Paul's vision was zeroed in with laser precision on the metal limb, and he did not appear to be breathing. He simply just stared ahead while the puzzle pieces surely fell in place in his head, and Summer poked him in the shoulder. "Um... Paul..."

"That's... that's... your... guy."

Summer glanced at Bucky, who had moved his arm as if it wasn't way too late for that, and then looked back to Paul, who was suddenly even paler than usual. "Yeah."

"You're dating... the... you're..."

"Paul..."

"He's... oh God..."

"Paul, sit down and breathe."

"But... Winter... S-"

She physically grabbed him by his shoulders and made him sit down in a chair as his breathing started to become shallow. "Paul, calm down. I can explain."

He laughed, and it sounded a bit crazed. "He shot JFK! Summer - he. Killed. A _president_."

"He killed a lot of people," she replied, a little bit disturbed by how easily she spoke those words, but she quickly shook it off. "But he was brainwashed. He's not a bad guy. He's a good guy. Remember reading about Captain America and the Howling Commandos in history class? Remember the one in the blue coat?"

Paul didn't hear her, too busy still staring at Bucky, who was watching the scene without a trace of amusement and looked very blank. This was in contrast to Sam, who had taken to standing next to Steve and watching like he was witnessing a bad but hilarious reality show take place live.

"But... but..."

"Paul," Summer sighed, "you're hyperventilating."

"Because Winter Soldier!" he exclaimed, pointing wildly. Summer cringed a little and then started searching around the room for a paper bag.

To her surprise, she actually found one, and immediately handed it to Paul. "Calm down before you pass out."

As Paul breathed in and out of the bag, Summer glanced at Bucky apologetically before remembering that he was the reason why Paul was here at all. She was still reeling a bit from the text she had read, and it shocked her to know that Bucky had thought of her and her feelings to the point of sneakily asking her brother to come here. If the timing wasn't so terribly inconvenient and if Paul wasn't mid-breakdown, she might have flung herself at him and given him a grateful hug.

After breathing in and out of the bag a few times, Paul lowered it and asked, "How did you even meet him? How - what - why?!"

"... I found him outside the house passed out and hurt. I helped him out."

Paul laughed again. "That doesn't explain all this!"

"You asked how I met him - that's how," she replied.

Then Paul looked over at the couch again and half-whispered, "He's sitting there with my nephew, Summer, he's sitting there with your kid like that's normal -"

"It is," she said quietly. "He's... good with David. Can you just be quiet long enough for me to explain? And if you know who he is, then you've read about him, so you obviously you must know that he's not an evil psycho."

"I don't know if that makes me feel any better," Paul muttered, raising the bag to breathe in and out of it some more. Then he dropped it and half-wailed, "I've been joking about axe murderers and Loki this whole time, but it was actually a half-cyborg assassin who's like a hundred years old."

"Who is also sitting right over there, and you're talking about him like he's not even in the room," she pointed out, though Bucky's expression never wavered from its blankness.

"Because I'm freaking out!" Paul exclaimed before groaning and tossing the bag over his shoulder.

"Well, stop freaking out! I know it's a shock and I probably should have told you a long time ago, but I knew you'd react like this and I was afraid you'd call the FBI or something."

"Why, because you're in love with an assassin wanted by the FBI?"

She faltered a little at that, glancing again at Bucky, who was now looking at her. She cleared her throat and said, "Look, I don't expect you to understand all this right away - I know it's a lot - but he's not what you think. He hasn't hurt me or David once. He's actually saved our lives twice."

That got Paul's attention. "Wait. What's the bad thing that happened?"

Her heart dropped a little bit. She'd been so focused on Paul's shock at her being involved with the admittedly extremely terrifying Winter Soldier that she'd almost forgotten that she had another bomb to drop on him. Quite nearly literally.

"Yeah, about that..."

Paul's expression shifted from confused and slightly scared to entirely scared. "Summer..."

She decided to just rip the bandaid. "My house - Grandma's house - it's gone."

He stared at her uncomprehendingly. "What?"

"It... blew up."

Behind her, Sam and Steve both slunk away to give them a bit of privacy for this part of the conversation. She stared at Paul as the reality of what she'd just said slowly dawned on him.

"Why?" he asked quietly.

"Uh..."

"Dammit, Summer, why?"

She paused at the unexpected snap and answered, "HYDRA... they were trying to kill him," she said, gesturing to Bucky.

And that was when he starting hyperventilating again.

"Paul, come on, breathe."

"You both... almost... oh my God..."

"We're fine. He saved us."

"But you - he - the whole place is gone?"

She nodded. "You're gonna pass out."

He held up his hands, muttering, "No, no, I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm... you said he saved you twice."

She hesitated. "The first time was when he first stayed with me. There was a couple agents who found him and..."

"How could you not tell me all this?"

Her chest tightened at the sheer dismay and shock in her brother's voice. "I know, I just... I was trying to protect him and I didn't want you to freak out."

"I think I'm having a heart attack. I mean it. I don't feel right. Oh my God. Wait, so is this where you're living now?"

She nodded. "It's safest. I mean, I'm living in the same building as Captain America and Iron Man."

Paul nodded absently, laughing a little crazily again, then furrowing his brows as he grabbed one of his own wrists and starting counting his pulse. "I can't tell if I'm panicking or having a coronary episode. I'm a doctor. I should know this."

"You're panicking," she replied. After a moment of counting, Paul gave up and half-slumped in the chair, running a shaky hand through his hair, and Summer looked around the room briefly before plastering a nervous smile on her face and saying, "Soo... Bucky, this is my brother, Paul, and and Paul, this is my... boyfriend... Bucky."

Paul merely looked at her wearily, and Bucky's poker face didn't budge. With a groan, she grabbed her brother by his shoulder and dragged him up to his feet, then started leading him to her room.

"You're - hey - you're just gonna leave David with him?" Paul hissed as they entered the hallway, taking wide-eyed glances over his shoulder.

"It's fine," she muttered, though she could finally distinctly understand how very mad she must seem. It didn't matter though - she just needed to make Paul understand.

Once inside her room, she shut the door and then turned around to face Paul as he stood near the door and didn't budge. She stared at him for a minute before sighing and saying, "I'm sorry. I am."

Paul shook his head. "I... I'm not even mad, I'm just... confused. And extremely worried. Are you like a target now?"

"... Kinda," she cringed. "I mean, not really. But I'm a way to get to him."

"But why do they want him dead when he did all their dirty work?"

She gave him a look and replied, "Think about what you just asked."

"Okay, whatever," he shrugged, "but the house... the whole house? Did anything make it?"

She shook her head. "Just me and David. And my phone and his blanket."

"And you're gonna stay with this guy after this?" Paul asked incredulously. "I mean, this is horrible! And it wouldn't have happened if -"

She held up her hand and interrupted him. "Paul, seriously, I know you're saying that because you love me and I know how insane I must seem, but you don't know what you're talking about."

"And how is that my fault?"

"Because I knew this is what you'd do when I told you!" she replied, a bit exasperated. Then she let out a frustrated moan and wandered over to her bed, sitting on the edge of it and only speaking after Paul had perched next to her. "You wanted me to find a guy who treated me well, right? Who wouldn't take advantage of me, would respect me, understand what it means to have a special needs kid?"

"Yeah, but -"

"That's him," she said, her eyes pleading with his to understand. "It's super weird, I know, but it's true. He's the opposite of Mark."

"He's a killer."

"He's a victim. And if you blame him for what he did then you may as well blame me for being raped."

"Whoa, I never said that."

"I'm just saying, it's the same thing," she said. She then watched Paul sigh and look down at his feet, looking like he was trying hard to understand it all.

"How long have you been with him?"

"Well... it's been about six months since I met him, but we had our first date three months ago, so..."

Paul eyed her slightly suspiciously. "And it's serious."

"Pretty much."

"More than anything I've ever hoped for in my life, I hope you're being safe."

She rolled her eyes. "Duh. And we haven't even done that yet, so calm down."

He breathed a visible sigh of relief. "Good. You should keep waiting. A long time. Until you're married. Please don't marry him. Are you in love with him?"

"Oh my God, calm down," she said with slightly wide eyes.

"Well!" Paul shrugged. "You must be if your house getting blown up and almost dying hasn't knocked some sense into you."

Summer groaned and then thought for a moment before replying, "I don't know. How would I? It's not like I would know if I was."

"I can't believe you trust him with your kid. You don't trust anyone with him. And David sitting next to him like that... he barely sits next to me when I see him."

She shrugged. "He's seen Bucky a lot these last few months. He thinks the metal arm is the coolest thing ever."

Then there was silence for awhile. Summer stared at her hands, getting lost in her thoughts just before Paul spoke and drew her back.

"I can't believe the house is gone."

Hearing him say that brought a resurgence of emotions that she'd been trying to ignore since the house had blown up. Most of her best memories of that house involved Paul, from when they were little kids up until the teenage years came, before college and his career took him to California. She used to have pictures to remember those times with, but now she'd have to rely solely on memories that would consistently fade with time.

She hadn't realized that she was fighting tears until Paul pulled her into a hug.

"It's just stuff... I've got some pictures at my house. Some of Mom and Dad's stuff. Not everything's gone."

"I know... it was just... home."

"I know."

It was awhile before either of them spoke again. But eventually, Paul muttered, "I don't know how to be grateful to him for saving you guys when it's his fault it happened to begin with."

"He's not forcing me, Paul," she sighed. "Blame me if you need to blame someone. I do. I knew what I was getting into."

Paul sighed heavily and squished her closer. "I'll never know what to do with you. Seriously. Only you could get yourself into a situation like this."

"It's not my fault that he decided to pass out on my front lawn," she pointed out.

"Yeah, but it seems like a pretty big jump from that to serious relationship."

She pondered for a moment. "Not as big as you might think."

After a brief silence, he asked, "Doesn't it freak you out? The assassin thing?"

"Well, duh, I was terrified at first. I slept sitting up holding my gun for like a week. But he was even more scared than I was. He screamed in his sleep every night and could barely eat because they never gave him real food. He couldn't remember anything but what they made him do. It was horrible. It was pretty obvious by how confused he was and much he hated himself that he was no monster."

"... And in the middle of all that you, what, decided he was super dreamy anyway and took him out to dinner?"

"Well, I _cooked_ him dinner," she replied. "And you can't deny that he's dreamy."

"That's irrelevant. Still terrifying."

She pulled away then and gave him a look. "Only because you don't know him."

"You know what's horrible?" he sighed. "I can't even threaten his life on Dad's behalf. There's no way I could beat him up. I probably couldn't even scratch him. This is horrible."

"Oh, that reminds me," she suddenly said, "Mark paid me a visit a few days ago." As Paul's eyes grew to the size of saucers, she grinned and added, "This story might make you like Bucky a little more."

* * *

"So... you invited her brother here."

Bucky glanced up at Steve, still planted on the couch next to a little boy who apparently liked his company quite a bit that day. "Yeah. Probably shouldn't have."

"No, I think it's great you did," Steve quickly said. "Though maybe next time you might want to... warn her. Or me, so we could have skipped the whole security thing."

"I figured he probably wouldn't have been cleared to come here," Bucky replied.

Steve raised his eyebrows and said, "Well... yeah, Stark probably won't be too happy when he finds out there's an unauthorized guest on this floor, but... I'm not gonna cry over that."

Then Steve grinned a little bit, and before Bucky could grin back, the sound of a door opening and footsteps lightly padding along the floor towards the couch caught his attention. Just as he glanced back, Summer appeared, hands on the back of the couch as she tapped David's shoulder and quietly told him to follow her into their room. As the boy got up and did as he was told, Bucky glanced up to meet her eyes just in time for her to give him a small smile and then lean down to place a soft little kiss on his cheek.

"Thank you," she whispered just before pulling away, still wearing the smile as she turned and headed back the way she came.

He stared after her, hoping that was a good sign. Maybe his impulsive text hadn't been such a bad idea after all.

A moment later, the sound of more footsteps hit his ears, but this time they were a bit heavier, and they belonged to the floor's newest guest. Bucky looked up as Paul came to a stop near the couch, looking around awkwardly for a moment before shoving his hands in his pockets and appearing to search for something, possibly anything, to say.

"I'll give you two a minute," Steve chirped, smiling at both men before disappearing. Paul then took the seat that he vacated, looking up nervously and then back down, and the room was silent long enough to make even Bucky want to start squirming.

"Okay, so..." Paul finally started, taking a deep breath. "We, uh... got off on the wrong foot, I guess you could say." He paused again and Bucky furrowed his brows a bit. "I'm, uh... sorry? I probably should have been... more polite... since you're the one who... invited me here, so... yeah."

Having no clue what to say in large part due to not knowing this man at all, Bucky tried to think of a response but ended up just listening instead as Paul went on.

"But this is still really weird and I'm still confused how all of this happened to begin with. And I don't trust you. Which you shouldn't take personally, because I don't trust anybody, especially not with my little sister. Our dad's not here to threaten guys with a shotgun, so I've gotta do it. Which..." he gestured in dismay to Bucky, "I can't really do with you, but... I don't really care. I'll still kill you if you hurt her."

Of course, Paul couldn't kill him, but it was principal of the thing that mattered, and Bucky could understand that. In fact, listening to the still-twitchy brother talk about his sister in such a protective way brought a sense of familiarity, a twinge of something Bucky could relate to on a subconscious level. It took him a few minutes before he could connect the feeling to his own sister, whom he could barely remember. The feeling was a comfort, though - maybe it was one step closer to really remembering her.

"So..." Paul drummed his hands on his knees, and Bucky realized he'd been staring off towards the floor in thought. "Um... anyway. This is nice and awkward. I'll just... go now, since I've said what I needed to say." Then Paul started to stand, only to pause, look at Bucky curiously, and ask, "Did you really kill JFK?"

As soon as the words left his mouth, Paul immediately cringed visibly and started muttering about being sorry and how he really didn't need an answer to that, but Bucky nodded anyway. "I don't remember it all that well, but..."

Paul then nodded, his look of mild terror from earlier returning just slightly to his eyes, and then he finally did stand up. "Okay. I'm gonna go find that paper bag again and... take a nap, maybe. I could really go for some Xanax right about now..."

As the other man started scouring the room in search of the bag, Bucky tried not to chuckle. There was very little physical resemblance between the two siblings - at first glance, it was hard to believe that they were related at all - but all one of them had to do was open their mouths and start stumbling over their sentences while hyperventilating, and it was suddenly very obvious that they were brother and sister.

Maybe he and his own sister had once been like that, similar and close, he thought as he lingered on the couch. Maybe someday he'd remember.

* * *

After a very long day of dealing with Paul's anxiety and David's unwillingness to do anything but stay glued to his tablet, and then cringing when Tony Stark made an appearance clarifying that he hadn't actually been serious about running an orphanage, Summer was beat. Exhausted mentally, not so much physically. Making David take a bath in an unfamiliar space had been a nightmare, and so was getting him settled into bed, but she had expected it. Down the hall, Paul had been asleep for two hours in one of the empty rooms, utterly spent after his rather eventful day (and painfully awkward dinner with the floor's inhabitants, though he was getting along with everyone fine).

Now that she finally had some time to herself, she thought about going to bed, but she wasn't particularly sleepy. There wasn't actually a whole lot to do in the tower, she'd noticed, at least for her. But that was why it was nice to have a very distracting and always-welcoming neighbor, whose room she decided to head towards.

The detour that she took to the kitchen was supposed to be a quick and innocent one, just to grab a soda out of the fridge. That was before her curiosity got the best of her.

After closing the door of the fridge, a shiny glint from a counter across the kitchen caught her eye. She'd vaguely noticed the tray full of various liquors in expensive glass containers the day before, but on a whim, she decided to walk towards them now to get a better look. It seemed incredibly cliche, she thought, the set-up of alcohol that probably cost more than most people spent on rent, and she had to wonder if Stark had such displays on every single floor of the tower just as an image thing.

Setting the soda down, she peered at the containers, guessing what was in each one. They all held dark liquors that ranged from light amber to dark, nearly black browns, and it only took her a minute to pluck the lid off of one and take a cautious whiff of whatever was inside.

She immediately wrinkled her nose and turned away - whatever was in there smelled more like an ingredient for a bomb than something meant for a human to ingest. Still, one by one, she smelled all the other ones, finding them less and less offensive as she went.

It was when she reached the last container, which held the lightest colored liquid, that she did a double take and had to sniff it again. It actually smelled good. Very good.

She looked around the empty room, quickly deciding to go ahead and pluck one of the empty glasses from the tray and try a sip. When was the last time she'd ever gotten to try the personal liquor supply of a world-famous billionaire? Never. And besides, if she hadn't earned the right for a drink or two after having her childhood home blown to bits by jerks who wanted her boyfriend dead, then that was just ridiculous.

Of course, the liquor being in a glass container and not the original bottle, she had no way of knowing the very high alcohol content of what she was about to try, and she didn't know how very quickly it would utterly smash her until it was too late.

And so, a short time later, already swaying slightly on her feet with only her third drink in hand, the girl with the very low tolerance for alcohol stumbled out of the kitchen and into the hallway, stopping ungracefully at Bucky's door. Before knocking, she looked down at herself and started clumsily undoing the top few buttons of her shirt, then fluffed her hair without realizing she was making it look disheveled and weird. Then she knocked on the door, leaning against the doorframe half out of necessity and half in an attempt to hopefully look alluring.

Then the door opened, and her lips stretched into a smile as she looked up through her lashes at the instantly confused man on the other side.

"Heyyy... Mister Barrnes..."

He took one look at the drink in her hand and the way that her shirt was half undone, not even needing to hear the way her words were already slurring before he half-grinned and pointed out, "You're drunk."

"Pfft," she scoffed, straightening up a bit and fighting the instant and overwhelming urge to lick his face. "I'm just buzzed." Then she took another drink from her glass, the burn not bothering her anymore, and then looked at Bucky pointedly before asking a lot more loudly than she realized, "Are you gonna let me in or what? Because, lemme tell you, I've had like three of these and all it takes is like one and I am like horny as f-"

Choking a little, Bucky grabbed her arm and shuffled her inside before turning back to the door, taking a deep, calming breath, and closed it.

* * *

She stood there in his room, still nursing her glass, staring at him with heavy-lidded eyes and hair that looked like she'd been brushing it the wrong way, and Bucky unconsciously chewed his lip in slight despair. He wasn't really in the mood for a test of his self-control, but he had a feeling that's where this was headed.

"This is really good," she said absently, lowering the glass and looking at it. "I have no clue what it is."

Half to just get the alcohol away from her, he stepped closer and snatched the glass from her hand and raised it to his own lips, knocking half of it back in one drink. He hadn't drank since a time he couldn't fully remember, but it tasted familiar enough for him to recognize what it was. "You're drinking whiskey." He licked his lips and then added, "The good kind."

"Hey, that's mine, don't drink it all," she protested as he made to finish the glass. She lunged ungracefully for it, but he raised it over both of their heads with a faint grin.

"You've had enough," he decided as she clawed at his arm in a vain attempt to bring it down.

"Oh come on! I deserve it!" she pouted, nearly climbing up him like a tree in her fervor to retrieve the drink. His left arm wrapped around her and held her against him, and at the touch her eyes left the unattainable glass and met his. The slight smirk didn't leave his face until she unexpectedly forgot all about the drink and grabbed his face, kissing him in a way that made him drop the glass to the floor without a second thought.

The thud of the glass hitting the carpet stole her attention, and she broke away to peer at what was left of her drink staining the white carpet and groaned. "Aw, now that's just a waste of perfectly good -"

He cut her off by kissing her again, almost laughing at her slight shriek of surprise. She tasted like the liquor he'd just spilled and something mildly sweet, like she'd been sipping coke between drinks, and he could instantly tell a difference in the way she was kissing him. It was braver, a little sloppier but not in a bad way, more in a way that gave him a glimpse of the desperation she was usually careful to at least partially hide from him. She wasn't trying to hold back or wow him with technique or skill; she was instead simply letting loose, and he liked it.

She was also making noises like he was doing a whole lot more than just holding her and kissing her. It wasn't helping the self control issue.

Adding to his doom, after a few moments, she seized him by the front of his shirt and started pushing him back, not stopping until he stumbled back on the foot of his bed. She was on his lap before he could blink, kissing him with her newfound fury and pressing herself to him so closely and tightly that it was almost hard to breathe.

His head was spinning by the time he felt her hands between them, doing something that he couldn't discern until he broke away long enough to take a breath and glance down. She was unbuttoning the rest of her shirt - or at least trying very hard to - and he grabbed her hand to stop her and breathed as she moved ravenous lips to his neck, "Stop, stop."

"Why?" she asked, coming up for air and using her other hand to try to pick up where the other left off.

"Because," he argued, taking both of her hands in his, "you're drunk and... it's not... right."

She let out a frustrated growl and let her head drop back in the process, momentarily distracting him with how her shirt tightened and parted slightly with the movement. "God, this sucks!"

He forced his eyes back up as she raised her head, and he realized that he hadn't heard what she said. "What?"

"This sucks!" she repeated. "Waiting sucks! Do you have any idea how much I just want you to throw me against a wall and just... destroy me?"

His eyes widened a little, mostly due to her terminology, and he sat there and watched mildly slack-jawed as she gripped his shoulders and continued wailing. "But then everything is stupid and we can't do that yet, because I'm stupid and your therapist is stupid and you're all... respectful and crap. And that's totally a good thing and I love that about you, but ugh, I am so... incredibly..."

"So am I," he managed to mutter, convinced that the combined effect that alcohol seemed to have on her of making her both extremely honest and extremely horny was kind of lethal.

"I mean I'm 25 and I've had sex once, and it was a nightmare, literally, and then you come popping up out of nowhere all tall and dark and intense and dripping sex everywhere like... bread crumbs..."

Bread crumbs?

As he furrowed his brows, she leaned in and brushed her lips against his jaw and murmured, "You smell good... even when you shouldn't smell good, you smell good... you're like... you're basically... a sex lollipop."

He laughed. He couldn't help it. She said it so seriously, but the minute he started laughing, she was laughing too, pulling away to watch the smile spread across his face. "What? It's true! And it's torture! Do you realize that all you have to do is kiss me for like five seconds and it's like -" she she held out her hands and made sounds meant to sound like, presumably, a waterfall. He suppressed a groan, reminding himself that she was drunk and throwing her on the floor and ravishing her wasn't right for some reason he was slowly forgetting.

"And then this!" She grabbed his metal hand, jarring him out of his thoughts. Her voice dropped down to a tortured lower tone and and she said, "You have no idea how hot this is to me. I'm pretty sure it's not even normal how hot I think it is. And the things I think."

She raised the hand to her face, putting the palm of it on her cheek and holding it there while his eyes widened with genuine surprise. "You... what?"

"It's super hot," she reiterated, nodding just to make sure he got it. He let his thumb run gently up and down near the corner of her mouth, feeling the tickling little sensation that those fingers had the capacity to feel, and then she turned slightly to press a kiss to the tip of the thumb. Then his mouth dropped slightly open and a jolt ran through his stomach when her lips parted and she drew his thumb into her mouth, sucking gently with closed eyes and flushed cheeks. He stared, breathing through his mouth and feeling his pulse quicken and heat blooming in his veins even with the decreased sensation in his metal limb.

The sight of her tongue flicking along his fingertip made him actually groan, out loud, and he suddenly realized the whirring sounds in his arm getting louder and louder the longer she... did what she was doing. Having no idea what the cause was, he ripped the hand away just in case it was gearing up to smash her face in.

Summer's eyes opened and she genuinely whimpered at the loss, grinning a little bit when she saw the heated look on his face. "I thought you'd like that."

He blinked a few times, trying to string a response together in his head, but then she was suddenly off his lap and on the floor, on her knees, pulling his apart and slipping between them while her hands worked clumsily at his belt. His jaw dropped - again - and he started protesting automatically.

"Summer, no, stop -"

"Please, I really want to -"

"But you're -"

"I don't care, and I'm not that drunk -"

"Summer..."

"But - sex lollipop - ahh!"

Her squeak was in response to being pulled up by her hair and then tossed - gently - on her back in the middle of the bed, then being held in place there by a very determined and equally frustrated Bucky. She gasped when she hit the bed and then smiled as she looked up at him, and a grin was on his own lips as his nose brushed hers and he murmured, "Stop."

"Take all my fun," she pouted, looking down at his lips and then back up, "you noble '40s gentleman sergeant war hero... guy."

"I'm not that noble."

She scoffed a little and brought her legs up around his hips, leveraging them down against hers and grinding up into them. He clenched his jaw and she smiled and did it again before he muttered, "You're teasing me."

"Me?" she asked innocently, still smiling. When he opened his mouth to retort, she leaned up and caught his bottom lip between her teeth. One of his fraying threads of self control snapped and he kissed her hard, almost angrily, his right hand moving down to grip her hip and pull her even closer while his other curled into a fist next to her head.

While he enjoyed her messier, noisier kisses and matched her desperation, her fingers pulled and yanked at his shirt impatiently. When he reluctantly broke away to let her tear it from his shoulders, he opened his eyes to find hers roaming shamelessly down his body. She bit her lip and giggled, "There's two of you."

Then she giggled again, and he sighed at his momentarily lapse of nearly forgetting how far gone she was.

"You know the only thing better than you?" she asked conspiratorially, like she was letting him in on a big secret. Then she grinned and said, "Two of you."

He might have rolled his eyes if she hadn't then caught him by surprise by rolling them over, suddenly on top of him as she kissed him and then started trying to unbutton her shirt again while plotting her next piece of scandalous writing out loud. "I wish that was possible because just imagine, one of you behind me saying things in my ear and doing whatever you want to me while another you's in front of me and I'm on my knees and -"

He gulped and his voice was a growl as he half-exclaimed, "If you don't stop I'm gonna forget why I shouldn't throw you against the wall like you want me to."

"Then I definitely won't stop," she grinned, at last successful with unbuttoning her shirt by some miracle. But before she could get it off, Bucky sat up and crushed her to him with a kiss that wiped the grin off of her face and brought back the breathy, uninhibited moans that had been torturing him since their first kiss of the night.

Once she had ceased her movements, he gently eased her back down to the bed, on her side while he faced her on his, he kissed her softly once more and murmured, "You'll thank me in the morning."

She closed her eyes and groaned. "Can't we just... screw around? It's nothing we haven't done before..."

Rather than point out that that's what they'd been doing already, he found that he could only stare at her slightly pouted lips for so long before he would give in.

He leaned in close, nearly on top of her again, kissing her lips before trailing across her jaw and down her neck, while his hand slowly peeled her shirt further apart and took its time traveling up and down her exposed skin. She hummed in appreciation, the light scratches of her nails on his scalp spurring him on as he trailed his mouth and hand lower.

His kisses had reached just past her belly button and his fingers were maneuvering open the buttons of her jeans when a soft, mildly grating sound caught his attention. He raised his head to find her snoring lightly, eyes closed and lips parted, instantly fast asleep.

He stared in disbelief for a moment before letting out a deep, frustrated sigh and flopping over on his back. He stared at the ceiling and suddenly regretted not letting her have her way when she'd been kneeling on the floor.

Eventually, he glanced over to her and her disheveled state. Then he sat up and leaned down, buttoning her shirt back up and moving some of the stray hair out of her face before drawing up his covers and pulling them over her peacefully sleeping form. Once she was sorted, he couldn't help but place one last light, barely-there kiss to her swollen lips before flopping back down and running his hand through his throughly messed up hair. What a way for the night to end.

Sex lollipop. He might have a questionable memory at best, but he'd never forget that one.

**A/N: Sorry about the slight delay in getting this chapter out, I've been busy and honestly forgot for a couple of days :) hope everybody is having a good holiday break! One of the reviewers for the last chapter asked if I had experience with an autistic child, and yes, I do - my four year old is on the spectrum. She isn't nonverbal though, so I only draw somewhat on my experience to write David, as he is meant to be on the more severe side than her. So I try very hard to stay accurate to his particular case while also keeping in mind that every autistic kid (and kids in general of course lol) are unique and that gives me a bit of leeway. But anyway. **

**Thanks to you amazing readers and followers and reviewers, as always, you have my love :D hope you all have a happy new year, and I'll see you all next week! :D **


	11. Chapter 11

Summer awoke to the sound of a door closing softly. Or at least, to anyone else, it would have sounded soft; to her, it sounded like a small planet had crashed into the Earth at warp speed.

She cracked her eyes open against the offensive morning light and then immediately shut them, groaning and turning from her stomach to her back. Her head pounded and her body felt heavy and shaky, like she was in the middle of some kind of flu, and she laid there in confusion for a few moments before she managed to open her eyes and realize that the bed she was in was not her own.

Eyes wide, she shot up far too quickly than her head could handle. It throbbed in protest and a wave of nausea instantly rolled harshly through her stomach, and it all came rushing back to her.

_Oh my God_, she wailed mentally,_ I got drunk and called Bucky a sex lollipop._

And then, rather than her usual word vomit, literal vomit began climbing out of her throat at an alarming speed. It took every bit of nonexistent strength she had, but she somehow managed to make it to the bathroom in time.

After expelling the worst of the hangover and ending up half-sprawled out on the cold floor in recovery, Summer groaned miserably and couldn't decide what was worse - the hangover or the embarrassment of the previous night. When she heard another opening of a door, she quickly settled on embarrassment and looked up wearily at the man standing casually in the bathroom doorway.

Bucky looked down at the sight before him, looking equal parts amused and concerned. Before he could say a word, she muttered, "Don't judge me."

"I'm not," he said, allowing a grin to form on his lips. "David's still sleeping, by the way."

"... You checked?" she asked, voice smaller than she intended, giving away how suddenly touched she was that he'd do that. He nodded, and she got out a thank you before she sat up to barf again.

Now that she'd added to her already-gigantic embarrassment, she sat back once she was done and accepted an offered glass of water without looking Bucky in the eye. Some of her bodily shaking had decreased with the vomiting, but the pounding in her head had gotten worse. As if on cue, after she sipped the water a few times, she felt three pills being shoved into her hand. This time she looked up and gave her helper a weak smile. "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

"Just don't let me drink ever again," she groaned, fully serious.

"I don't know," he said as she put the pills on her tongue and tried not to gag. "I kind of liked you drunk."

She knocked the pills back with a wince and then gave him a sidelong glare, accepting his hand and slowly getting to her feet. "That's not even funny."

"I'm serious," he replied, and she paused as she thought back on where her memories ended.

"Did I really... fall asleep in the middle of..."

"Yeah," he nodded, shrugging slightly as if to assure her that it was fine.

"I'm sorry," she said, cringing a little. "I didn't mean to."

"It's all right. I... managed."

Before she could think too long and ask what that meant, he was helping her out of the bathroom and steering her back towards her own room. She sighed and tried not to think about all the humiliatingly honest things she said the night before, waiting to speak again until she reached her door and smiled at Bucky once more. "Thanks again."

"No problem," he said, opening the door for her and ushering her inside with a hand on the small of her back. "I do try to be more than just a sex lollipop."

Then he grinned and was gone, leaving her to stare and try to grasp with her sluggish mind the fact that he had just cracked a joke. A real joke. She blinked, suddenly trying to remember if she'd heard him joke before or if this was the first time. When that just made her head hurt more, she groaned and closed her door, vowing to never, ever, so long as she lived, ever get drunk again.

* * *

A thoroughly unenjoyable shower later, Summer was half-slumped at the kitchen table, eyeing the perfectly good omelet in front of her with a distinct lack of enthusiasm, trying to ignore the gleeful smiles that her brother was sending her way from the other side of the table.

Today, it was just the two male members of her family and the super soldiers in her life at breakfast, but Paul was the only one on her nerves.

"I haven't seen you hungover in forever."

She glared across the table, pecking her plate with her fork. "Go die."

"You should have woken me up. I would have totally gotten hammered with you."

"I didn't even mean to get drunk," she muttered.

"How long's it been since I've even seen you drunk? Wait, I remember - it was that one Thanksgiving at my house. We watched 'War Horse' and you started talking about all the creepy things you wanted to do to Tom Hiddleston in front of my kids."

While Summer's face reddened with sheer rage, Bucky's attention was suddenly piqued. "Who?"

Waving a hand, Paul explained, "This British actor who is seriously ugly as -"

"He's a beautiful man!" She suddenly exclaimed, jabbing her fork in Paul's direction. "And you can shut your jerk mouth, trying to add to my embarrassment - what are you, twelve?"

"Who?" Bucky asked again, eyes full of confusion.

"Here, let me show you," Paul said, getting out his phone, and Summer threw her arms up in frustration. Yesterday, Paul had barely been able to look at Bucky without twitching and collapsing into a catatonic state, and now suddenly he was playing buddies for the sake of further tormenting her.

"See?" Paul said, leaning over and holding up his phone. Even Steve peered at it with mild interest. "Giant forehead. Tiny eyes. Even I'm better looking than that."

"Pffah!" she scoff-laughed. "Sure, Ed Sheeran."

After a moment of inspection, Bucky looked away and glanced her way with a mildly amused expression. She shook her head slightly, then glanced at Steve, who suddenly looked thoughtful and slightly puzzled as he looked away from the picture. "Kind of looks familiar..."

"Maybe," Summer piped up, "you should tell everyone about your crushes, since they're way worse than mine have ever been."

Paul scoffed and leaned back in his chair. "Impossible. And I'm married. I don't have crushes."

Summer raised an eyebrow. "Hillary Clinton."

While Steve visibly shuddered and Bucky looked at him questioningly, unaware of who that was, Paul suddenly froze and then slowly looked up, his expression the utmost of sobriety. "She's gotten better with age and I like strong women. Why you gotta bring that up?"

"Why do you?" Summer retorted.

"Because I have to! It's my duty!"

She groaned and gave up trying to force herself to eat. "I'm going back to bed. You're bringing my headache back."

Fully serious, she dragged herself up and off of the chair, looking at Bucky a bit apologetically before turning and heading back towards her room. David followed her very reflexively, and she'd gotten halfway to the hallway before Paul jogged up behind her. "Hey, wait a minute! I wanted to talk to you about something."

She groaned and turned around, replying as coherently as she was able to. "Ungh?"

"No, not about ungh. So I was thinking."

"Hope you didn't hurt yourself."

He smiled and shook his head. "Only a little. Anyway, I was thinking. And I know what you're gonna say at first, but I've decided that I don't care."

"... Should I be scared?" she asked warily.

Ignoring her question, he replied, "I know you never want to accept my help, but -"

Her eyes narrowed. "Oh, don't you dare try to give me money right now."

"I'm not trying, I'm doing it," he grinned. "Now I've got a little bit saved up -"

"You have like a zillion kids!" she exclaimed. "And one on the way! I can't take your -"

"I have a zillion kids, yes, but only one sister whose house just blew up, so hush. I'm not trying to give you cash. I want to take you out and let you pick a laptop." When she fell silent in slight surprise, he added, "You're a writer. You need one, whether you decide to keep on with school or not. So I'm gonna buy you one. My only condition is you have to actually write something."

She slouched a little bit, suppressing a groan. "I can't even think about writing right now."

"Well, I didn't say you needed to start today. But Summer," his tone became more impassioned, "you've got to start one of these days. You're sitting there on talent other people would kill for and not doing anything with it."

"... I made a hundred bucks writing about a brand of gardening soil for a blog a couple months ago," she replied weakly.

"You don't even garden. This is what I'm talking about."

She sighed, throwing up her hands and arguing, "I know, I just don't know what to write. Nothing seems interesting enough and I just have zero ideas."

"Maybe you're thinking too hard," he suggested. "I mean, if you're looking for interesting, start with yourself."

She wrinkled her nose. "Eh?"

"Do you know how many people write books and blogs about themselves who haven't had lives half as interesting as yours?" he asked rhetorically. "Just write about your life, fictionalize some stuff here and there, change the names, and bam, next great novel."

She stared at him for a moment, taking in the pure sincerity on her brother's face, and then burst into laughter. "Are you high?"

He put his hands on his hips and sighed in frustration just as the elevator doors from across the room opened. Summer glanced over to see a petite redhead sashaying out of the doors, and she turned back to Paul and smiled, "Yay, now you get to spaz out again."

His eyes followed to where hers had been and instantly widened. "Is that..."

Summer nodded. "It is."

Looking mildly interested and somewhat suspicious, Natasha stopped not too far away from where they stood and asked anyone in the room who would answer, "Who's this?"

While Paul stared, looking either slightly constipated or very stunned, Summer answered, "This is my brother, Paul."

"Oh. Hi," Natasha said, tone instantly turning bored but not impolite.

"I'm married," Paul muttered, and Summer rolled her eyes. "Extremely married. To a half-Puerto Rican woman. My children are beautiful."

Natasha furrowed her brows at the odd "greeting" before glancing at Summer and remarking, "He's definitely your brother."

Summer nodded in resigned agreement as Natasha then turned to presumably talk to the suddenly very cheerful Steve. Then Summer punched Paul in the shoulder.

"Ow!" he hissed, clutching the shoulder and glaring at her. "What the heck?"

"She already thinks I'm a freak, don't make it worse!" she hissed back. "I'm awkward enough for the both of us."

"I am not awkward," he contended. "You're awkward. I was just reminding myself that I'm married. It seemed necessary."

She rolled her eyes. "She's fondue-ing Captain America. She's not gonna look twice at anyone."

Paul's brows furrowed. "Fon-whatting?"

"Never mind," she shook her head. "So where are we going?"

"... Does New York have, like, a Best Buy?"

She smiled at the dumb question.

"Probably."

After she turned to head towards her room to change, urging David to come along, she heard Paul ask, "Did you say fondue-ing?"

She just laughed, the fact that she was somewhat in on the inside jokes of Captain America and his friends enough to give her a brief thrill of giddiness that was a nice change from her still-aching head.

* * *

The minute his sharp hearing had picked up on a few words of Summer's conversation with her brother and he realized that she was planning on making a trip out of the tower without him, Bucky had asked Steve for a favor. Now he was walking to her room, almost forgetting to knock before he walked inside. A part of him was still used to how it was when he first lived with her, when things like knocking and general societal niceties were a lot more lost on him than they were now.

She yelled for him to come in, and he opened the door to find her kneeling on the floor, struggling to get a sweater over her protesting son's head.

"Come on, we've gotta go bye-bye for a little bit with Uncle Paul," she said for what was mostly likely the tenth time, fighting to get him to put his arms through the sleeves. "Ugh, David, stop fighting me..."

Clearly, the kid did not want to go anywhere, and Bucky watched Summer struggle for a good five more minutes before David was finally dressed and quite unhappy about it. That was when Summer glanced up at him, smiling with a shrug as she got up to her feet. "Yesterday it took like half an hour so this is an improvement. Something wrong?"

He shook his head. "No. Where are you going?"

"I guess to a store to get a laptop. Paul's idea," she replied.

He glanced down at the floor and then asked, "Can you come with me for a minute?"

"Sure," she nodded, and he quickly turned and stepped out of the room. He walked the hallway, Summer a step or two behind him, until he reached his room, and after he walked inside, he flipped on the light and immediately headed for his dresser.

Neither of them said a word as he reached into the top drawer, but when he turned around holding a small gun for her to take, her eyes widened and she breathed, "... Oh. Right. I guess I need a new one of those."

His fingers brushed hers as she took the weapon. He glanced up at her, then turned around and pulled out something else.

"Oh... um..."

He handed her a small keyring holding a black can of mace and a knife, and she took it with her free hand. Not quite done yet, he then also handed her a taser, and she started laughing slightly nervously. "Are you gonna hand me a sword next?"

He didn't quite return her smile. "If I can't always be there with you, I at least want you armed."

She nodded at his more serious tone, looking down at her armful of weapons. "I'm sure I'll be fine, I mean... it's not like anyone really actually wants me." When he didn't answer, she added quietly, "... Right?"

"I'd rather not take the chance," he replied.

Then a brief moment of silence passed, and Summer suddenly wondered aloud, "Can I even legally carry a gun here? I probably can't, I'm sure I need a permit for this thing. I need to register it, because if I got caught with it without a license or -"

"You're taking it," he said firmly, leaving no room for argument in the matter. The law, as far as he cared, was irrelevant in this case, and could probably be sorted out by Steve if it ever became an issue.

She didn't seem willing to argue the point for very long. "Okay... well... thank you. If someone tries to attack me, I can stun them, mace them, shoot them, and then dismember them." Then she smiled, and he almost did too, just because of the odd things that she thought was funny.

"The gun's like your last one, everything's in the same place. I still want you to practice."

She nodded. "I will. As long as you keep teaching me. That was fun." He grinned faintly in agreement, and she returned it before drawing in a breath and saying, "Okay, this crap is getting heavy. I guess I'll go dump it all in my purse."

He then followed her silently back into her room, where she did just that, dropping her new armory into a new giant purse she'd bought the day before. After, she turned back to him and smiled somewhat shyly before walking up to him and placing a chaste kiss on his lips. "Thanks."

"Call me if you feel uncomfortable or suspicious," he said, face still the picture of seriousness.

"You're kind of freaking me out now," she said, voice dropping as she frowned slightly. "I wasn't even thinking about it before and now I'm probably gonna be paranoid."

His frown mirrored hers. "... Sorry, I just... I wish you'd stay here."

"I am," she replied. "But I'm not gonna never step outside."

"I know," he muttered, inclining of his head slightly, "I'm not saying that, but -"

"I know," she interrupted. "I know what you're saying. And it's just that... if I really stop and think about what happened, and I let it scare me the way I'm trying not to, and I let it get to me, I'm afraid that I might just... kind of... lose it."

He understood losing it. He also understood what it was like to think about something to the point of letting it unhinge you, and that was something he definitely did not want for her.

"So I'm trying to just go on like normal - kind of - and going out and, you know, functioning, is a part of that."

He nodded. "Just be careful and... keep your eyes open, okay?" When she nodded in agreement, he added, "And I mean it - call me if you need to. Even if it's nothing."

"I will, I promise," she said sincerely.

He looked at her for a moment or two before nodding again. "Okay."

A moment later, he was about to leave and let her finish getting ready in peace, but her voice stopped him before he could turn around. "I'm really glad you asked Paul to come here. I probably would have put off telling him for so long and made it a lot worse than it had to be. It means a lot to me that you did that."

He wasn't sure how to respond at first. Words were still far from his comfort zone, and her heartfelt gratitude left him even more lacking for words than usual. But luckily, she didn't let him flounder for long, stepping forward again and kissing him a little less lightly than she had a moment before. The fact that she never pushed him or nagged him to say or even do more than what his current comfort level allowed was something that he appreciated as much, he suspected, as she appreciated his invitation to her brother. Maybe more. Maybe he'd figure out a way to say it someday.

As she began to pull away, Bucky opened his eyes in time to see her flinch and grasp the back of her head with a hissed, "Ouch!"

A small toy that fell to the floor seemed to be the culprit, and he watched her turn around and glare at David, who promptly ran and hid in the bathroom. Summer turned back to him with a mix of a smile and a grimace. "He'll get used to us one of these days. Hopefully. But hey, I'll see you again in a few hours, okay?"

He nodded, and she planted one more kiss on his cheek before he turned to leave her room. As he walked down the hallway, unsure of where he was going, he began to realize how wise his therapist's advice was about getting a hobby. He'd have to find something interesting to kill the next few hours with, otherwise he'd end up following Summer and being her invisible, probably unnecessary and extremely overly cautious, bodyguard.

* * *

"That guy was flirting with you. See, why couldn't you have gone for someone like that? A guy who sells phones and computers and probably isn't a million years older than he looks."

Summer sighed and readjusted her purse on her shoulder as she stood in the middle of the electronics store. Her other hand was holding David's, and she gave Paul a look as she replied, "He was not flirting with me. And really? Can't you drop it?"

Paul shrugged, leaning against a counter full of various laptop displays and half-whispering, "Can you blame me? I have to leave tomorrow knowing you're living a hallway across from... _you know who,_ and -"

"Now he's Voldemort?" she hissed back, fighting a laugh.

"Actually, yes, let's make that his codename. He's Voldemort and you're Bellatrix. Anyway -"

"I'm actually okay with that."

"Good. Anyway, I have to leave you here in his... hands... or hand... and I'm probably not gonna ever sleep again now that I know. Why couldn't you have gotten the hots for Captain America? Seriously?"

"Oh my gosh, Paul," she groaned. "I thought you were coming around by the way you acted at breakfast."

"I can ignore anything for the sake of embarrassing you," he shrugged. "And why do you keep looking around like you're checking for snipers?"

She suddenly froze, not realizing what she'd been doing, and sighed before briefly rubbing her eyes with her fingertips. "Sorry. He just freaked me out before we left, and -"

"Who freaked you out? Voldemort?"

"Yes - I mean no - he didn't mean to, but -"

"What did he do?"

She huffed and opened her mouth right as the allegedly flirtatious salesman approached them, carrying a box containing the laptop she'd picked out. "Follow me to the counter, guys," he smiled brightly, his sandy hair and moderately large build vaguely reminding her of a high school jock as she followed with a weak smile.

With talk of Voldemort momentarily tabled, Summer continued to fidget uncomfortably with her inordinately heavy purse while trying to ignore the overly cheery (and only now noticeable) smiles that the guy kept shooting her as he rang in their purchase.

"So you said you're a writer?" the guy asked conversationally. "Have I read anything of yours?"

"Probably not," she shrugged.

"So up and comer?" he smiled again.

"I guess so," she replied dully.

After Paul swiped his card, the guy chirped, "Hey, we do deliveries sometimes, so if you need help getting this home -"

"We're good!" she replied a little too quickly and too loudly. "I mean, thank you, but we've got it."

"All right," he smiled, nonplussed. "Here you go. You guys have a great day."

As Paul grabbed the bulky but lightweight box, Summer nodded and smiled in response, turning and heading towards the exit while consciously trying not to look over her shoulder or suspiciously at anyone in general, but that was getting harder to do the heavier her purse became, reminding her of its contents and why she was in New York to begin with. She shook it off as they left the building and Paul sighed noisily next to her.

"Told you he was flirting."

She wrinkled her nose, stepping out into the pedestrian traffic. "He was gross."

"Well, he was no Voldemort, but - hey, you're doing the looking for a sniper thing again."

"Ugh," she closed her eyes briefly, again fighting with the strap of her purse. "I can't help it. I didn't think I'd do this, but I think I'm seriously gonna have paranoia issues for awhile."

"I'm pretty sure that's extremely normal after what you've been through," Paul pointed out. "Although you need a new weapon now, don't you?"

She grimaced and shook her head. "Why do you think I keep moving my purse around and fighting with it?"

His eyes widened, staring at the purse in question and asking, "Do I even want to know what's in there?"

"The question is, what isn't," she replied. "Let's just make sure not to jaywalk or do anything else to get a cop's attention. I haven't even looked up the gun laws here yet."

"Could you even get to it if you needed it?" he asked skeptically. "I know what your purses look like."

"This one's new, so yes," she muttered. "Hopefully. Now can we talk about something else while we're in public? This isn't helping my paranoia."

"You know, not to be a negative Nancy, but I think you might have issues with paranoia and anxiety no matter what as long as you're here with him."

Giving him a side-glance, she replied, "Actually, he makes me feel safe."

"That seems like such an oxymoron."

She shrugged carelessly. "It is what it is."

"Well, do me a favor. Since I'm gonna need anxiety meds after all of this, at least keep me updated. And I mean it - the minute anything happens, you tell me, whether you like it or not. I don't want to have to wait for more cryptic texts from Voldemort to know that something's up. Okay?"

"Okay, yes, yes," she nodded. "I got it."

"Swear on Severus Snape."

The expression on her brother's face was so dead serious, it was as if he was asking her to swear on the life of his firstborn. Biting back a hearty giggle, she nodded. "I swear on Severus Snape, you nerd."

He breathed a sigh of relief. "Damn straight."

After a few more moments of walking in silence, a thought popped up in Summer's head, thankfully distracting her from the urge to keep looking around for potential bad guys. "Have I told you yet about how I met Thor and how he liked my chocolate cake?"

Paul spit out a mouthful of the water bottle he'd been sipping, and she laughed, knowing in that moment how very much she would miss him when he was gone.

* * *

"All right, and... done."

Natasha handed Bucky his phone after having tinkered with it for a few moments, and after he looked down at the map displayed on his screen with a blinking red dot in the middle, he looked up and nodded. "Thanks."

"No problem. Does she know there's a tracker on her gun?"

Bucky shook his head, glancing at Steve, who sat next to Natasha on the couch opposite Bucky, looking very disapproving about it all.

Natasha glanced at Steve, patting his knee and saying, "Relax, Cap. I tracked her for almost two months and she didn't know. It's no big deal."

"But it's not right," Steve replied. "And actually - why _did_ you track her, Nat?"

She shrugged. "She was an unknown - still is - and too close to us. Always a good idea to keep an eye on all the variables."

"Still," Steve argued, "it isn't right. But it's one thing coming from you - for you," he turned to Bucky, "it's another. Just tell her you want to track her for peace of mind. I'm sure she'll understand."

Bucky sat there for a moment, staring at the slowly-moving little dot on the screen, considering both points of view before muttering a bit unsurely, "Would it.. seem..."

"A little psychotic? Overly protective?" Natasha guessed, analyzing her nails. "I think you crossed that bridge a long time ago, and I'd bet that she's aware."

While Bucky shot her the sort of glare that she was quite used to getting from him, Steve said, "I don't think it's unreasonable to track her. I think that doing it without her consent is unnecessary."

The word consent landed in Bucky's ears like a brick, and suddenly he knew that Steve was right. Consent was something he never wanted to compromise on in any particular situation with Summer, no matter how benign, and this, he realized, was an example of that.

"I'll tell her."

While Natasha rolled her eyes, Steve nodded in approval. "Good."

And later on, after Summer returned to the tower, when she somewhat timidly asked Bucky if he'd consider putting a tracker in her gun, just to give her some extra peace of mind, he only had to explain that she already had one in it before she understood why her request had made him smile.

* * *

One day later, Summer stood on a curb a safe three blocks away from Stark Tower, helping see that Paul's exit from the tower was a lot quieter than his entrance. David stood quietly at her side, holding her hand as she watched her brother shove his bag into a cab trunk before turning back to her and shaking his head.

"I'm gonna miss you even more now, kid."

She smiled sadly and braced herself for the bone-crushing hug that she knew was coming. When it came, she returned it wholeheartedly and muttered against his shoulder, "You should move here. Be a hot shot New York doctor instead of whatever you are in Cali."

"And you should come to California and live with your big brother while you write the next great American novel," he retorted, still squeezing the life out of her.

"The Dark Lord might object to that," she replied, sucking in a deep breath when he finally let up and pulled back a bit.

"This is all really ironic, considering you dressed up as Bellatrix that one Halloween in high school," he said with another slight sigh.

She shrugged. "At least my Voldemort has a nose. And hair. And -"

"I don't want to know what else he has," Paul said, shuddering slightly. "It was awkward enough saying goodbye to him and trying to accept all this without the icky details of your gross makeout sessions. Or whatever it is you two do."

"It's super scandalous," she replied with a straight face. "Can't say in front of little ears."

Paul fought off a grimace - poorly - and muttered, "You're disgusting. But speaking of little ears..."

Paul bent down to David's level, waving slightly to catch his attention as he smiled. "I'm gonna miss you, Buddy. Take care of your mama for me, will you? Did I earn a hug this time?" When David shrunk back a little, Paul held up his hands in surrender. "Okay. No hug. High five for the uncle that bought you a month's worth of candy yesterday?"

Reluctantly, David gave in and gave Paul a rare high five. Paul whooped in victory and then mussed the child's hair before standing again. "I got a high five. That's awesome."

"He just needs to see you more and you'd get hugs," she smiled back.

"Well, we'll work on that," he nodded. The cab driver honked at them, and Paul growled at the interruption before pulling his sister into one last lung-puncturing hug before he had to go.

"Text me every day, like always. And don't take forever to answer, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah."

"Stay safe " he said seriously as he pulled away.

She smiled. "You know Voldemort says the same thing every time he has to leave me."

Paul paused a bit and then shook his head. "I might wrap my head around all this in about... fifteen years or so."

"You're telling me," she chuckled. The cabbie honked again, and she added, "Better get going, doc."

Begrudgingly opening the cab door, he pointed at her and said. "I mean it about the texting thing."

"Okay!" she playfully exclaimed.

"I love you, kid."

"I love you too, nerd."

One more smile, and with that, he climbed inside the taxi and was gone just a few seconds later. She exhaled heavily as she watched the yellow car disappear down the busy streets, wishing that no matter where she was, she always seemed to be goodbye to somebody who wasn't around nearly as much as she needed them to be.

* * *

Nearly a week passed following Paul's arrival and subsequent departure. David slowly adjusted to his new surroundings, and gave up his hunger strike at last, much to Summer's relief. She took him once a day to the child care room that Pepper had invited her to use, and while he stayed away from the other kids present, he took to the room and the toys within fairly quickly. She made it a routine in advance of her interview, just in case it was a success and she got the job.

And so, when Thursday morning came, while David played in the childcare center and Summer nervously sat down ten floors above for her first interview in years, Bucky stood in the kitchen fiddling half-asleep with the coffee machine while blinking to force his eyes to stay open. He'd managed four and a half hours before his dreams forced him awake, and if it took an entire package of coffee to wake him up, then that was better than trying to face sleep again.

When he finally got the thing running, he turned around and realized that the odd noises he'd been hearing was Steve opening some kind of large box in the middle of the living room. He squinted and asked blearily, "What are you doing?"

Steve looked up and smiled brightly as he pulled out a few pieces from the box. "I found this the other day when I was out."

Bucky stared at the box, unsure of what "this" was, at least until Steve pulled the main part out and Bucky nodded. "Record player."

"I had one like this before, but I had to leave it in Washington," Steve explained unnecessarily, lifting the player to a glass coffee table and carefully setting it down. "It's the real thing, from when we were kids. And," he smiled again, "I happen to have some of my old records."

Unable to muster up much of the enthusiasm Steve seemed to have over the matter, Bucky turned and poured half of the now-finished coffee into one cup before walking out of the kitchen and sitting down in front of the coffee table. He glanced up mid-gulp when Steve said while still messing with the record player, "I know that sensory things are supposed to help trigger memories - sights and smells and sounds, and I figured -"

"Connor tell you that?" Bucky guessed, slightly annoyed for some reason if that was the case, though he wasn't sure why.

Steve stopped for a moment and shook his head. "No, I... 'Googled' it."

And just like that, Bucky's annoyance instantly faded. He looked down at his cup, unsure of what to say back to that, but Steve quickly started talking again and saved him the trouble. He was glad, because the idea of Steve pouring over the Internet's suggestions of how to help people with amnesia recover their memories made him feel almost uncomfortably grateful to have Steve in his life.

"So, want to give it a try?"

"Sure," Bucky shrugged, figuring that at the very least, it wouldn't trigger any HYDRA memories.

Steve left the room briefly and then came back with an armful of records that looked as old as the player, though they appeared well-cared for in their only mildly frayed sleeves.

"SHIELD saved all my stuff," Steve explained, sitting down next to Bucky and setting the records down on the table. "These sat in a warehouse for seventy years." He started thumbing through the records, then grabbed one and muttered, "Let's start with this one."

Bucky finished his coffee as Steve put the record on, and after he set his cup down, the soft strains of the first few notes started filling the room. They sat in silence for a moment, and Bucky tried to focus on the song, which was a slow, sort of languid tune. The sounds crackled gently and he tried hard to find a sense of familiarity in it, and to a small degree, he did, though the familiarity was more in the technical sounds of the record player than the music itself.

He had long learned to not be disappointed when an attempt to recall memories was unsuccessful, so his face gave nothing away when Steve asked, "Anything?"

He shrugged. "Not really."

"I figured that one probably wouldn't do it," Steve said, leaning forward to take the record off and put another one on. "But this one," he said, holding one up, "this was actually yours. Might have better luck this time."

Still skeptical, Bucky got up to get a refill of coffee while Steve set up the next record. He'd emptied the pot and had just turned back around when the livelier, instantly familiar song began playing, and it stopped him in his tracks almost immediately.

Where the last song left him blank and empty, this one immediately hit some place deep and well-hidden in his mind, tugging at threads knotted and scattered beyond his reach and pulling them free to flood his mind with dizzying flashes of a time long past.

_The air was heavy with smoke and the cool weight of a half-filled glass in his hand anchored him to the vision of a somewhat dimly lit but loud and vibrant club, filled with other people and voices of all sorts, but it was all background noise. His one and only focus was on a feminine, sparkling laughter in his ears, and the lure of warm green eyes under rich red hair._

_He laughed with her, watching his free hand reach up to brush an errant, perfect curl out of those eyes, and though he never heard the words leave his own mouth, he knew that he would ask her to dance, and she would say yes, and it would not be the last time that he would look into her eyes or feel her hair slip between his fingers._

It was over nearly as quickly as it began, but it felt as if it had lasted minutes rather than mere seconds. Reality came back with all the gentleness of a flashlight to the eyes, and as he nearly crushed the cup in his hand with the force of his grip and stared at the record player, it must have showed on his face.

He heard Steve ask if he was okay, but he didn't register the words. He was still clinging to that fleeting memory, still savoring the shocking clarity of it, the way that it left him feeling as if all it would take was a few more tugs on a few other threads, and maybe it would unlock a whole web of memories previously hidden from him.

The woman's name was on the tip of his tongue, her face so familiar and so well-known to whatever part of his mind that the image of her had been locked in that he knew, on a level made more of instinct than of sense, that she had been important. He felt it, knew it, but what was her name?

It was there, so _close_, just waiting for him to grasp it, if he could just remember...

And then, he did remember. "Vivian," he blurted out the moment it popped into his head with such ease that it was hard to believe that it had ever left.

Steve turned off the record, but the lack of music didn't stop his mind from continuing to race with this newfound piece of his history.

"I thought you might remember her," Steve said softly. "Do you... need to sit down?"

He did feel a bit dizzy, but he shook his head and looked at Steve. "She was... it feels like..."

"Important, yeah," Steve affirmed.

"You didn't tell me about her." He didn't say it in an accusatory way, but more of a slightly inquisitive statement.

"Well, I thought it would only frustrate you more if I did while you couldn't remember," Steve explained.

He suddenly had a myriad of questions, but he didn't want to fire them at Steve. Steve was right - it was better to remember for himself, because there was little worse than being told a story about yourself that you had no recollection of and no feelings regarding.

No, _this_, he wanted to answer for himself, and he was sure that if he stood there long enough and thought hard enough, surely he would be able to. That flash of a memory was the most vivid non-painful one that he'd had in so long, and he could almost feel everything else that was locked behind it, if he could just find the right way in...

He stood there, still in the kitchen though he'd eventually set his cup down, staring down at the counter in front of him and trying to connect the memory to others while it was still fresh and real in his mind. He was oblivious to the ding of the elevator, the clicking of heels across the floor, and the gentle calls of his name by Steve, at least until Summer's smiling face was suddenly almost directly in front of him.

Her exclamation started out joyous and then tempered off into caution. "I got the... the... are you okay?"

He blinked a couple of times and glanced at Steve, who had been gesturing somewhat pointedly to Summer, and he quickly nodded and forced himself to focus back on the present. "Yeah, I'm fine. What did you say?"

She looked at him in concern for a moment before her smile returned and she said happily, "I got the job! I start next week!"

Her smile was infectious, and it was then that he managed to look down and take in her entire appearance, still a bit thrown off by the previous few moments. He'd missed her that morning, so this was his first time seeing her that day. She had dressed like she already had the job, in a type of outfit he'd never seen on her before - black pencil skirt, white ahort-sleeved blouse, and hair up in a youthful but passably professional type of hold on her head. The black high heels were the nail in his coffin.

He managed to mumble out a half-coherent "congratulations" just as she grabbed him and hugged him in a fit of excitement.

"Thank you! I'm excited. I mean, it's extremely low-level and I'm probably just gonna be getting coffee and answering phones for a long time, but still, working here at all is so weird and awesome, and now I don't have to worry about being a jobless loser!"

He grinned at her rambling while his senses were assaulted with the scent of her clean hair and perfumed skin as she clung to him. Her presence was chasing away his newly discovered memory, but he didn't mind. He would have time, an abundance of it, to search for more memories that corresponded to the one he'd recovered, and he had a name and a song, at least, to help him do so.

It might have seemed like a minor thing, to remember one single moment and one woman and her name, but it gave him hope after a long time of remembering so little after so long. Something else he'd have to thank Steve for later.

When she pulled away, still smiling exuberantly, she took a closer look at him and let her hands frame his face for a moment as she asked, "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine," he replied, for once actually meaning it for the most part. "Really."

She seemed to believe him. "Okay," she smiled softly. Then her eyes brightened and she exclaimed, "Let's do something fun! Like a date! We should totally go on a second date. Can we?"

It was impossible not to smile at the rapidly changing emotions on her face, starting with excitement, pure happiness, and then slight unsureness after blurting out the date idea. "Yeah, why not," he replied, eyes flickering down to her legs again as she let out a very quiet squeal of excitement.

"Awesome! Can we do it today? What do you want to do? I'm talking too fast - I'm sorry, I'm just really excited," she grinned, blushing a little at her own over-exuberance. "And I've never asked anyone out before. This is super exciting. How do I look? I tried to look professional, but I didn't really know what I was doing so I just Googled 'personal assistant' and looked at the images that popped up."

When she finally stopped to take a breath, he opened his mouth to answer her question but fell a bit short. It didn't help that Steve was watching from the couch with mild amusement, and while he had a very pervasive feeling that such a thing never would have hindered an expression of a very detailed compliment before, it only served to tongue-tie him more now. Which was ridiculous and mildly angering.

"You look..." he trailed off, surveying her again from top to bottom, again getting stuck on the shoes for a moment and the way that they elongated her already-perfect legs. Then there was the skirt that clung to her shape and did a lot for it, not that she needed the help, but...

In the span of the few seconds that he spent trying to form a respectful compliment out of thoughts becoming increasingly not-respectful as the time passed, he had raised his eyebrows slightly and looked her up and down several times, licked his lips, and tightened his lingering grip on her hips, utterly unaware of any of it. Just as he was about to finally force out a disappointingly generic word, Summer cut him off with a grin and said, "Actually, don't worry about it. I think you just told me."

He huffed out a chuckle and admitted, "I like the shoes."

"Got a little bit of a shoe fetish?" she inquired quietly, still grinning. "I'm just saying..."

"It's probably more who's wearing them," he replied. "Are you going to be working with... desks?"

"... Yeah," she said a little slowly. "Why?"

As he debated on how detailed to express his increasingly detailed thoughts, he unconsciously moved in closer, and the sudden throat clearing of Steve - who was apparently still present - broke both of their concentrations.

"Anyway," Summer smiled brightly, blushing at little at the interruption and pulling away, "Uh... I'm gonna go check on David and think about where we can go later."

He nodded, and she gave him a quick kiss before darting back to the elevator with a spring in her high-heeled step. He watched her until she was gone, which was when he shook himself out of his thoughts and glanced at Steve, who still looked highly amused.

Bucky rolled his eyes and then made his way back to the couch, sitting down next to his friend and staring at the record player again before quietly saying, "Thank you for... doing that," he gestured to the thing. "Haven't remembered anything that clearly in a long time."

Steve nodded. "Good. And you're welcome. Oh, I thought of something else, too," he said as he started rummaging in the pockets of the hoodie he was wearing. To Bucky's surprise, he ended up producing a pack of cigarettes, of all things, and handed it to him. "Part of the sensory thing. You never did it much around me, because it made me sick, but I think you picked it up from her. Army probably didn't help, though I don't think you were ever too heavy with it. But I figure it might help you remember more."

Taking it from Steve's hand, Bucky muttered a thank you and didn't bother trying to see if he recalled smoking or not, because he knew he wouldn't. But that was the point of Steve giving them to him in the first place, he supposed.

"Just don't make it a habit," Steve said seriously. "Cell regeneration or not, it's still bad for you."

He couldn't help but snort a little at the admonition. He gave a little mock-salute as he pocketed the cigarettes, missing the way Steve's expression softened a little when he did it.

A few moments later, to break the silence that had briefly fallen, Steve said, "So, second date."

"Guess so."

Steve nodded. "Any ideas?"

"Not a single one," Bucky admitted. Steve sighed and nodded, apparently able to feel his pain. Then Bucky muttered, "I think maybe... I should... get... clothes."

Steve raised an eyebrow. "New clothes?"

Bucky gestured vaguely with his hand and said, "She puts so much effort into herself, and... I don't know."

"Okay," Steve nodded, not needing any further explanation. "Well, unfortunately Nat's busy today, so... you might have to rely on my questionable fashion advice."

Bucky was almost convinced then and there to say never mind, but before he could, Steve patted his shoulder and said brightly, "But it'll be fun! Hopefully. We'll leave in a little bit."

His fate sealed, Bucky stifled a groan, suddenly having two things to fret over today. But it was hard to feel too annoyed by anything when he could still feel the distinct sensation of hope running quietly beneath it all - hope that maybe Steve and his stubborn optimism wasn't as stupid as he had originally thought, and maybe he really could remember more and more as time went on.

And if it took more time than he'd like, maybe that could even be all right too, because at least he was making new, good, maybe even better, memories along the way.

**A/N: Thank you all so much for reading &amp; following this story, and for continuing to give great responses to each chapter :D I am super grateful, equally for those of you who have followed from the start and who've just picked it up. You're all awesome :D Also, my thanks to midnightwings96 for being her amazing self, as always :) Love to you all, until next week! :D**


	12. Chapter 12

He wasn't entirely sure how or why he had ended up here, or why he'd left Steve at the previous store to come and wander to this one on his own, and he almost turned around and headed back when the depth of his cluelessness became apparent. But, rather than give in to that particular urge, he stared at the mannequins displayed in the shop's window and figured that as long as he was subjecting himself to this at all, he may as well try and get something decent out of the deal. And the clothes in this particular window looked more modern - he thought - than the kind Steve seemed to gravitate to. Which wasn't actually saying much, but still.

Already feeling stupid, he opened the door and walked in, quickly shoving both hands into his jacket pockets and trying not to wince at the electronic-sounding music that immediately assaulted his ears. It wasn't playing very loudly but hearing it at all was enough to make him grit his teeth and try to ignore it as he did a quick overview of the stacks and racks of clothes in front of him. In the distance, he spotted a worker about to turn around and notice him, so he darted behind the racks before they could start badgering him with offers of (much needed) assistance.

The problem was, as loathe as he was to admit it, he really did need help. What he saw were t-shirts made of bizarrely bright colors containing words and designs that made no sense, pants that came in so many different fits and "washes" and materials that it was stupid, and an entire section of "accessories" that seemed to encompass a lot more than what he anticipated.

In short, this was a horrible idea, and he probably should have just stayed home and made do with what he already had.

About to turn around and head back out, he immediately stopped in his tracks when he looked up and realized, to his chagrin, that he'd been intercepted by the very same worker he'd been trying to avoid.

"Well hello there," the tan, dark haired man drawled with a smile, moderately heavily accented voice an octave or two higher than Bucky would have expected. "You look like you are in desperate need of some guidance."

Despite the truth of that statement, Bucky wasn't sure he wanted to take guidance from a guy dressed in overly tight black shirt with a slightly plunging neckline and tight red pants. "Uh... no, I -"

"Oh yes," the man nodded insistently. "You do. But it's okay - that is what Esteban is here for." At Bucky's blank stare, he clarified with a flourish of his hand, "That would be me. Now, tell me why you're here - what's the occasion?"

He should have bolted when he had the chance. "I -"

"Never mind. Do all your clothes at home look like this?" he asked, gesturing loosely to Bucky's hoodie and jeans with an open grimace. "Because this is doing you no favors, my friend. You know what, let's start from scratch, shall we?"

Opening his mouth to vehemently but politely mumble something before making a run for it, Bucky instantly lost his train of thought when "Esteban" then whipped out a measuring tape from out of nowhere and was suddenly invading his personal space with it. Bucky stepped back automatically, slightly defensively, but Esteban only sighed and said, "How am I going to know what sizes you need if I don't measure you? Stand still."

Gritting his teeth, Bucky went along with it for some reason, still planning to split the first chance he got. But that chance never came, since as soon as the measurements were done, he was almost instantly getting about half a ton's worth of clothes tossed into his arms as he was dragged around the store.

"I don't know what kind of look you're going for with the black hoodie and the gloves," Esteban said, flipping through the racks quickly but carefully, "but the boring grunge look has been over with since before I even came to America. You are so lucky that I am here to help you. Now, what did you say the occasion was?"

Looking down warily at the growing number of clothes in his arms, Bucky managed to answer, "A date."

"Ohhh, a date," Esteban drawled, grinning widely, "of course, I should have known." Then he turned and looked Bucky up and down, in a sort of admiring deep thought. "Hmm..." Just when Bucky was about to freak out, the man snapped his fingers. "I've got it!"

Then Bucky was again being hustled through the store, though this time he became even more alarmed when what appeared to be leather pants got thrown at him. His concern deepened when Esteban asked his shoe size, then threw a pair of leather boots at him before tossing him into a dressing room and exclaiming, "Try on the outfit on top first! And show me when you're done!"

Dropping the pile of clothes somewhat angrily but mostly in lingering bewilderment, Bucky mentally scoffed at the idea of showing the man anything before beginning the daunting task of trying on the... outfit.

At first glance, it seemed non-threatening enough. The shirt was fairly normal, gray but with city names written all over the front of it for some reason, but the pants... was this how men really dressed now, or just men like... Esteban?

"Hurry up, honey, I haven't got all day!"

He never should have walked into this place.

Nonetheless, he put on the outfit one piece at a time, and of course, it all fit perfectly, but it felt weird - the pants, anyway. His memory may have been lacking, but he was fairly sure that he'd never worn anything so tight before, and wasn't the leather boots on top of it slightly overkill? Then again, what did he know?

Looking at his reflection, the first thing that popped into his head was how hard Steve would probably laugh at him later if he actually wore this. Then there was more tapping at the door. "All right, you've had long enough and I've got other guests - I'm poking my head in!"

Frantically, Bucky tore through the pile of clothes to retrieve the sole coat he'd had thrown at him, some kind of men's black peacoat, and he got his left arm into it just before the door cracked open. He might kill this "Esteban" before the day was over.

"Oooh! I am a genius as usual. That's perfect. See? And this is why Esteban does what he does. Your girlfriend or your boyfriend will thank me later. If you try to hide those legs in boring shapeless jeans again, I will personally hunt you down and trash your wardrobe like we're on 'What Not To Wear'."

Then the door closed, and Bucky stared at it for a moment, only half understanding anything the man had just said. Then he looked back at the mirror, suddenly wondering if he really did look as ridiculous as he felt. But what other choice did he have? His current choices for fashion advisor was Steve, who according to the rest of the tower looked mildly "grandpa-fied" half the time, and then there was Esteban, who did this for a living.

Eventually, he decided to just suck it up and go through the rest of the clothes, picking out what was acceptable and what wasn't - like some weird neon green shirt and a plaid belt - and then he mustered up his courage and headed out of the dressing room.

"He's finally done! Am I a genius or what? Come on, I'll ring you up," the almost effervescent man said, ushering him to the front of the store and taking the clothes out of his arms. If he lived to regret this later, he may come back and punch the guy in the face. Maybe.

As the bill racked up, which Bucky ignored, the store's front doors opened, and as Esteban was talking away about something while folding the clothes and placing them in bags, Steve walked up to the counter and asked cheerfully, "Success at last?"

Bucky glanced at him before the widening eyes and knowing grin of Esteban stole his attention and made his eyes narrow suspiciously.

Holding out the two shopping bags for Bucky to take, Esteban winked and said, "Date, huh? Well aren't you two a lucky pair of specimens. I am so jealous."

Steve's jaw dropped a little and he suddenly looked extremely uncomfortable and mildly constipated. Bucky tried to keep his poker face intact, but it ended up looking more like he was violently screaming inside, all while Esteban positively vibrated with glee and focused his knowing gaze on Steve. "You're gonna totally thank me later, trust me."

While Steve choked a little, Bucky yanked the bags to his side and focused on getting out of there as soon as humanly possible, ignoring the lighthearted goodbyes from the overly friendly sales associate. Steve caught up to him quickly, and neither of them said a word until they were safely out of the store and back on the street.

"So..." Steve muttered, "he thought..."

"Yep," Bucky replied blankly, mainly just wanting to forget that ever happened.

Steve was silent for a moment, and the last thing either of them said about the incident was, "I know you're not exactly friendly with Stark to begin with, but I'm just saying - neither of us ever says a word about that to him. Ever. We'd never hear the end of it."

* * *

"Not a problem."

By mid-day, Summer had come up with exactly zero ideas for her own date idea, and in a fit of mild desperation, she cornered Steve in the kitchen about an hour after he and Bucky had returned to the tower.

"What does... well, what did he like to do, back when... you know?" she asked, watching Steve put together a sandwich.

"Uh, well... he did a lot of dancing, but you already knew that," Steve replied, thinking as he walked back and forth from the fridge to the counter, Summer following everywhere he went. "Other than that, movies, baseball games, kind of anything that there was to do back then, we did. He liked to drag me to Coney Island and watch me throw up."

"Oh! Amusement park! Rollercoasters! I didn't think of that," she half-exclaimed, though she immediately frowned a little and asked, "Although, if we went there, would he remember it and... I don't know, would that be a good thing or a bad thing?"

Steve thought for a moment and then answered, "Well, it's a lot different from what it was when we were kids. They closed the first park back in '44 and built two new parks just recently, and it really doesn't look anything like what I remember." He said this a little sadly, but shrugged and added, "I think it's a good idea. If he does recognize anything, he'd only be remembering good things."

She nodded. "It wouldn't be... I don't know... intruding on your guys' memories or something?"

Steve looked at her a little incredulously and chuckled. "No! Not at all. I think it's a good idea. Really."

She nodded. "Okay. Sorry, I just... don't want to like, overstep, or..." At another look from him, she fell silent and smiled. "Sorry. I'm gonna shut up."

He grinned and then asked, "Need a babysitter?"

"Yes," she sighed. "I think so. One time when David was three he rode a carousel and cried for half an hour."

"Ah," Steve nodded. "I feel his pain. Well, I used to. But yeah, leave him here."

She hesitated and then said, "I don't know... he just got over his not eating thing and he's still pretty clingy with me..."

Steve shrugged. "Well, we can give it a try. If it comes down to it, I can always bring him to you."

"Okay," she agreed, happy with that idea. "You're the best. Seriously. Like, I owe you so much, it's disgusting."

Steve waved her off as he chewed a bite of his sandwich. "I kinda feel like it's the opposite. Anyway, go get ready. I doubt the lines have gotten any better since 1943."

She smiled and thanked him again, suddenly feeling extremely excited and totally in her element for once. She could only hope that Bucky would share her enthusiasm for rollercoasters, and that if not, at the very least, seventy years of torture and ice hadn't taken away his sense of fun. This would definitely be a level of fun they'd never even thought about approaching as of yet.

As long as he didn't barf on her, really, she'd be happy.

* * *

After Summer had all but bounced into his room as if from straight off of a trampoline, exclaiming a question about if he wanted to go ride rollercoasters with her, Bucky had agreed slightly reluctantly, only because it took him a minute to remember what a rollercoaster was. Once he had, she told him to get ready fast and then bounced off, leaving him to stare warily at the shopping bags on his floor.

The irony of being more terrified by an outfit than he was by trained killers and his actual enemies was not lost on him, but he seriously did not want to look as idiotic as he feared he would if he actually put that outfit on. But eventually, he decided that he'd look even stupider if he trudged out of his room wearing the same things he'd been wearing for months when everybody knew he'd gotten new stuff that day.

And anyway, he'd already wasted entirely too much thought on the matter anyway.

So, he threw the outfit on without really looking at it, fought with his hair for a minute before giving up because it was determined to have a mind of its own that day, and then he somewhat angrily pulled on the still-possibly-overkill boots. Then he marched out of his room, determined not to think about any of it anymore.

He heard Steve talking with the apparently newly arrived Natasha in the kitchen before he stepped into it, not looking at either of them as he opened the refrigerator and grabbed a water bottle out of it. After he closed it, Steve glanced over his shoulder towards him in the middle of taking a drink from his own bottle, and he promptly did a double take and choked. Natasha peeked around him to see what the big deal was, then grinned and unabashedly took it all in.

"Bucky, what... are you wearing?" Steve asked, eyes wide, as Bucky stared back defiantly and took a forcibly nonchalant sip of water.

"I have no idea," he replied honestly. "That guy at the store picked it out."

"You mean the... guy."

"Yeah."

"It looks good," Natasha interjected. Bucky's instant reply of a glare made her add, "I'm serious." Then she patted Steve's shoulder and said, "You should dress like that one of these days."

Pretty sure that she was making fun of him, Bucky tossed the bottle on the counter and turned to march right back in his room and change the stupid clothes, only to nearly collide with Summer as she came bounding out of the hallway.

"Oh sorry! I was just - uh... whoa..."

He watched as Summer's eyes moved from his face to his feet and then back up again, then back down, and her jaw went slack as words apparently failed her. He held his breath, unsure if she was about to start laughing at him or blush so hard she'd actually morph into a tomato.

Her face turning a furious shade of red gave him his answer. She backed away by a step and muttered, "You're... you're actually trying to kill me. That's not nice. I... don't remember what I came out here for. I'll just... damn."

She then stumbled off, back down the hall, and he decided that maybe the outfit could stay after all. He glanced back towards the kitchen, where Natasha wore a smug smile and said, "See? And to think you doubted me."

He snorted derisively and headed back to his room to grab the coat he forgot, hoping it was worth a day full of walking in weirdly constricting pants and the agony of having to accept an actual compliment from Natasha. Still, if nothing else, it was worth it just to watch Steve choke and Summer die a little inside.

* * *

Summer was uncharacteristically quiet a bit later, as she sat next to the suddenly male model-esque Bucky in the backseat of a cab on their way to their date. She had changed into her nicest comfortable outfit, which she hadn't had much competing options for, but dark skinny jeans and flats paired with a flowy black and white lace top under a burgundy coat (almost as nice as the one she'd lost with the rest of her clothes back home) just seemed underwhelming compared to what was next to her. The one thing she thought she had going for her was the slightly lower-than-usual neckline she was sporting, which wasn't too major given how she assumed the park would be relatively full of kids, but it was enough that she noticed his eyes stopping there for half a second before meeting her eyes everytime he looked at her.

Still, the question remained - was he just trying to do everything he could to visually torture her? She'd caught herself staring at his leather-clad legs so many times already, and they'd only been the cab for five minutes.

"You're quiet."

She blinked and realized she'd been doing it again. Dang it. "Oh, yeah, sorry. Just, uh... thinking," she explained half-honestly.

"What about?"

She met his gaze and saw that it was slightly playful. "Rudy Giuliani. He was an awesome mayor and... it's sad he's not... anymore." What was she even saying? He hadn't been mayor for years!

"... Right," Bucky said, looking at her as if she had two heads, and frankly, maybe she did have two heads.

She rolled her eyes. "Actually, I'm trying not to drool. Like you didn't already know that. Are you trying to kill me?"

He smiled faintly and said, "No, I walked into a store and some guy threw this at me. I feel like a moron."

"Well, you look like sex, so," she replied, wincing almost instantly at her words before she decided that she didn't really care. "It's almost disgusting."

"Disgusting?" he squinted.

"Yeah, like I need to take a shower just because I looked at you." She grinned at the way he chuckled at that. Their driver was on his phone talking in what sounded like Arabic, so thankfully, nobody was paying attention to their conversation. "It's super unfair."

He kept his faint smile, glancing out the window, and she let herself stare at his profile for a moment before shaking her head and trying to think of something halfway decent to say. It took her awhile, but she finally thought of something non-leather related. "Oh, what was with the giant record player in the living room?"

"Steve bought it," Bucky said, looking away from the window. "He was playing old records to help me remember."

"Oh, that's a good idea," she replied. "Did it help?"

He nodded, glancing down towards his lap. "Yeah. It actually did."

"That's great!" She smiled. "What did you remember? Not that you have to tell me if you don't want to, but..."

He finally looked at her, his expression a little strange and unreadable for a moment, but then the cab came to a halt at their stop, and she made a mental note to pick up the conversation later - if he wanted to.

Once they were outside the rather sprawling, definitely modern and well-expanded upon amusement park, Summer glanced at her companion and asked, "Seem familiar?"

He shrugged. "Not really."

"That's all right," she shrugged. "Maybe it'll all come back to you once you get off a ride and puke."

* * *

The temperatures outside were getting warmer these days, and it made wearing a coat as they strolled through the amusement park rather uncomfortable after awhile, but Bucky didn't have much of a choice in the matter. The gloves on his hands were equally annoying, and he soon found himself rather envious of the carefree people passing by who didn't have to think about things like causing mass hysteria by taking off their jacket and showing the world their metal "robo-arm", as Summer called it.

Speaking of her, he suspected that she was keeping her own coat on for his sake, but before he could say something about it, she spotted something in the distance and grabbed his hand before heading there excitedly.

Nothing looked familiar, and he wasn't sure that he particularly enjoyed the fact that there were people everywhere - even if none of them cared one bit about him or even looked his way - but he kept to himself how little he expected to enjoy himself, the thought of putting a damper on Summer's excitement nearly unbearable.

She led him through a small gate, and then they reached the back of a line as she glanced up at him and pointed forward. "I think this okay to start with. Looks like a pretty standard coaster, nothing too ridiculous. The sign didn't say anything about going upside down, so I think it's a good starting point. What do you think?"

He shrugged. "I guess."

She smiled at his very neutral reply and said, "I have it on good authority that you used to love these things. If you don't though, it's okay. There's other things to do if rollercoasters aren't your thing anymore."

"They seem to be your thing," he noted, taking in the way she was bouncing on her heels even though a rather long line stood in front of them.

She nodded enthusiastically and flashed him an almost child-like smile. "Oh yeah. I haven't been to one of these in forever. I think I was sixteen or something, so almost ten years ago. Ugh! That's way too long."

Absently, in his head, he subtracted ten years from the current year, then decided to figure out what year she was born in for no discernible reason. Once he figured that out, he recalled what year he was born in, then shook his head and ignored how weird it all was as the line started to move.

After the first half of the line got on the ride, he watched what he could see of it and still didn't think much of it one way or another. Summer, however, was happily squeezing his hand and still bouncing slightly. When it was nearly time for them to board, he leaned down and murmured near her ear, "It was worth coming just to see you bouncing like a kid."

She grinned up at him. "I'm actually controlling myself right now. If I actually jumped up and down, I'd smack myself in the face with these things," she said, gesturing to her chest. He laughed at the image that put in his head just as it was their turn to finally get on the ride.

Luckily, he didn't end up squished next to any random people, because they got the very back portion of the seats and he ended up on the far end of it. Summer happily clutched the restraints that were pulled down over their heads and shoulders, but he didn't bother to grab his, still thinking very little of the ride.

Summer was overflowing with excitement as the ride began its creep up the first hill, and by the time they reached the top, he had nearly zoned out so effectively that when it began a sudden plunge straight down, his hands flew to the restraints and his gasp would have been audible had the ride not been noisy and had nobody been screaming.

The ride was just under two minutes, and after two loops, several more plunges, and enough twisting and turning to make his head nearly literally spin, it finally groaned to a halt, and while Summer was absolutely glowing with the lingering thrill of it all, Bucky was still clutching the restraints and didn't quite want to let go even as they sprung off of him.

Half-stumbling out of the cart, he swallowed down a lump in his throat and stopped for a moment, waiting for the world to stop spinning and his stomach to stop twisting.

"Hey, you okay?" Summer asked, suddenly at his side and putting a hand to his arm. He straightened quickly and nodded.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm good," he said, trying to brush her off, but he wasn't exactly good yet.

"Wow," she grinned. "That wasn't even a spinny ride and you look like you're about to barf."

He shook his head, and in a few moments, after the spinning finally stopped, he took a breath and looked to her expectantly. She grinned and took his hand, leading them off to wherever she wanted to go next. "Okay, so we'll avoid the crazier ones for now. And definitely nothing spinny."

"Just pick whatever you want," he told her. "I'll be fine."

"Maybe, but I just really don't like getting puked on. Paul used to throw up on me all the time when we were kids and I try to avoid it as much as I can." When he looked at her slightly questioningly, she explained, "One time i ended up covered in slimy candy and pickles... he was a gross kid."

Not particularly wanting to know anymore, Bucky let that one go and then let her drag him to the next ride that caught her interest. After the next few times, he was mostly used to them, and at some point, he started genuinely enjoying the rides. Whether it was due to the rides themselves or Summer's infectious love for them, he wasn't sure, but one thing he was positive of - he loved the way that she squealed and relished every second of each ride, and that alone made coming here worth it.

* * *

In some ways, it was basically the perfect day - scouring an amusement park she'd never been to, bouncing from ride to ride with her ridiculously attractive leather-clad boyfriend, all of it taking her mind off of everything bad that had happened recently and placing it solely on having fun. It was an absolute blast, and she even managed to get them both on the biggest ride in the whole park, despite her initial concerns that it might be a bit too much for him. He proved her wrong, and she could tell that he really was enjoying himself.

By the time the sun had halfway set, she was starving, so for the dinner portion of the date, they grabbed overpriced and greasy food at the closest cafe they could find within the park. It was a far cry from their first date with its quaint little Italian restaurant and candlelit atmosphere, but it all felt much more at ease and natural this time around, and she wouldn't have had the day go any differently if she could have.

Having done a fair amount of Googling on the area before coming, however, she did have one more idea to try out after they'd had their fill of the park. Rather than head straight home, they took a somewhat chilly walk down a nearby beach.

It was a clear night, so the moon and stars were out in full force, dimly lighting the night along with a handful of boats out in the water's distance and homes on their other side. It suddenly dawned on her, early in their walk as she grasped his hand, that decades ago, he may have walked this very beach hand in hand with another woman - or maybe a lot of other women - before even her mother had come into existence. After all, this was Brooklyn, his old backyard, and it was a little surreal to be here with him.

"So, anything jog your memory yet?" she asked, her shoes dangling from her free hand while she tried not to giggle at him treading through the sand in his leather boots.

"Maybe... not sure yet," he said quietly, looking out towards the water, matching her slow steps.

"Have fun?" she asked with a slight grin.

"Yeah," he nodded, turning back to her as they walked. "I wasn't sure at first, but I had fun."

"Good," she smiled. "I kinda feel like our time together has been super serious and kinda traumatizing half the time, with things blowing up and people trying to kill you at every turn, so... I guess it was time for some actual fun. Mix it up a little bit."

She didn't expect him to frown at those words, but he did. Then he asked quietly, "Is that... what you think, or..."

"Oh, I didn't mean it like that," she hurriedly assured him. "I wasn't complaining, I just - you know, it seemed like a good idea to just... act silly for awhile and... not think about all the heavy stuff, I guess."

He seemed to understand, and she breathed quietly in relief. Absently, she reached down and disentangled their hands long enough to peel the unnecessary glove from his right one, then placed her hand back in his while they continued to walk.

The truth was, this was one of those things she'd always wanted to do - walk hand in hand with some gorgeous, awesome guy down a quiet beach, under a moonlit sky and every cliche imaginable, because darn it, cliches were cliches for a reason. And it was nice, beautiful, even, but it was as perfect as it was because of who she was walking next to. She could have been walking down a questionable street on the rougher side of Brooklyn under a partly cloudy sky and she would have felt the same warmth that she was feeling right now. And knowing that somehow made her happier than any picturesque stroll on a beach could have done.

Though, there was definitely something to be said for the beach, no matter what. If only the water could have been a bit warmer, she could have sat and let it wash over her toes while he played with her hair and eventually laid her down in the sand and kissed her for all she was worth...

"You're quiet again."

Somewhat snapping out of her thoughts, she blushed slightly and said, "Just thinking."

"What about?"

"... Sex on the beach," she blurted.

He stopped walking. "... What?"

Mentally punching herself in the face, she laughed a bit nervously and said, "It's gotta be weird, right? Sand everywhere... like... everywhere..."

She expected his usual bewildered look or maybe an amused chuckle, not his hand reaching out and grabbing her coat by its first few buttons and pulling her much closer. She sucked in a breath of surprise, smiling a little when she saw the faint grin on his own face as it grew closer to hers. And she especially didn't expect him to breathe out an inch from her lips, "You're so damn cute."

And then she had her perfect beach kiss, which was better than any of the ones she'd ever seen in romantic comedies, and though she was fairly sure that she hadn't been called "cute" since around kindergarten, it was the way that he said it that made her melt.

As much as she had seen and been around him recently, which was a lot more than ever before, there had somehow been less time for these things than when their time together was scarce. She had been trying to settle in and get David back to his normally functioning level, getting ready for her interview, and Bucky did not follow her around like a lost puppy, thankfully, but it resulted in her passing out most nights without even telling him goodnight or getting a decent kiss or two in during some point in the day. In fact, an annoyingly nagging little voice in her head had been wondering if it was on purpose, if he was pulling away a bit for some reason, but the way that he kissed her now silenced that voice rather beautifully.

When he pulled away and the kiss ended, all too soon, she said somewhat breathlessly, "We need to make time for this every day. I don't care if it's in the morning or at night or whenever, or if I'm asleep and you have to wake me up. I just... I kinda need this."

He nodded in agreement, and she pulled down for another kiss. The air around them suddenly didn't feel so chilly, and she poured several days' worth of missed touches into the kiss before he broke away and muttered near her ear, "It's hard to stop."

"Almost impossible," she agreed, her words barely above a sigh as he pulled her coat aside to press his lips to her neck. "It gets harder and... harder..."

He hummed in response and then kissed her lips again, and she shuddered, wrapping her arms around his neck partially just to stay on her feet. He could go from zero to utterly devouring before she had a chance to begin to wrap her brain around it, and one of these days she would lose every last ounce of will to resist and beg him to end their self-imposed abstinence.

But, it seemed that when she would near that point, he would pull away before she could, and this time was no different. She was equally grateful and frustrated for it, but how could she complain about anything after the day that she'd had?

Her forehead against his, she managed to say something for once that didn't embarrass her in the slightest. "Thank you for today."

His eyes met hers and the corner of his mouth twitched as he replied, "Everything was your idea."

"Yeah," she said quietly, "but you're what made it perfect."

She saw a lot of things flicker in his eyes then, and she couldn't figure out what a single one meant. His answering kiss, however, she did understand, and that was more than enough.

* * *

Whatever Bucky expected to find upon arriving back to the 36th floor of Stark Tower, it was not a small gathering of everyone he recognized from the tower sitting in front of the nearly theater-sized television watching what appeared to be black and white videos from the '40s. From the minute he stepped off the elevator, he saw Steve, Natasha, Sam, Stark, even Thor - the last of which was confirmed by the sudden widening eyes and near-squeal of the woman standing next to him.

He still didn't get what was supposed to be so great about the guy.

David came barreling out of nowhere directly at Summer's legs, knocking his hand out of hers before she picked him up in a hug and Steve called out, "Hey! Have a good time?"

Bucky nodded and let Summer do the talking, shedding his jacket while she alternated between glancing at Thor every other second and telling Steve about Bucky almost puking. Bucky looked at the TV, which was paused on a frame of Steve in his old uniform, and he might have been interested in seeing the video if not for the group currently watching it. He started heading for his room, where he planned to peel off the leather he was wearing and stuff it deep in his closet where he'd never find it again, but Steve had other plans.

"Hey, Bucky, come sit down. You're in a couple of these, I've been saving them for when you got back."

Bucky nodded and didn't bother arguing, slightly nervous at the prospect of seeing such a video. He made his way to an empty couch, ignoring the not friendly nor unfriendly stare from Tony Stark as he sat. Steve beckoned Summer to come and sit with them, then got up and to change out the DVD as he explained, "SHIELD preserved a bunch of our videos, and Tony here was nice enough to convert them to DVDs for me."

"I'm helpful like that," Tony shrugged, taking a drink from the small glass in his hand. Bucky wasn't sure if he'd ever seen the man without a drink in his hand. "By the way, these are all really boring so far. Weren't there hot nurses that hung around Army bases back then? My dad sure made it sound like it."

"Well, you're probably about to see one or two," Steve replied, heading back to the couch just as Summer took a seat next to Bucky. Thor noticed her staring and smiled brightly.

"Lady..." his brows furrowed briefly before he guessed, "... Solstice? No, that's not right..."

"Summer," she giggled. Bucky shot her a side-glare that she completely ignored.

"Ah, that's right! Lady Summer! How have you fared since we last met?"

"Pretty good," she smiled. "Except for my house blowing up. But that happens, right?"

"Oh... I am... sorry?" Thor replied in slight confusion, maybe unsure why she was giggling about her house getting blown up.

Tony rolled his eyes. "Anyway, on with the show. Some of us have girlfriends to go and ravish, can't spend all night listening to awkward small talk."

"Actually," Natasha remarked, looking around the room, "I think that's every adult male in this room aside from... Sam."

Sam rolled his eyes at the chorus of sarcastic "awww"s that followed her comment, just before Natasha gestured to Bucky and added, "Oh, and I forgot the abstinence kids over there."

While Bucky glared at her, she smiled and Tony nearly spat out his drink. "What? What did I miss? Who's got a chastity belt?"

"Very funny," Steve said, "I'm pushing play now -"

"Hold on, George Washington, this is important," Tony interrupted. "First of all, why, and second of all - why?"

Bucky glanced at Summer to find her suddenly looking rather like she wanted the floor to swallow her up, but before Bucky could defend her honor - or something - Steve shot Tony a glare and said, "Drop it, would you? It's personal, and you barely even know them."

"Hey now, don't get touchy," Tony said, holding up his hands in surrender. "Blame a guy for being curious about what's happening in his own tower. Or what's not happening."

Steve then aggressively pushed the play button on the remote in his hand, and Bucky muttered an unnecessary apology to Summer that she immediately shrugged off before they both turned their attentions to the TV.

The slightly grainy black and white images on the screen started out shaky before focusing on a small group of smiling guys in Army uniforms, and Steve explained, "So this was taken a couple days after we got back from Austria. Everybody got patched up and had a couple decent meals and then this happened."

"This" was what looked like an old-fashioned party on the base, or at least the closest thing to one that they could manage at the time. The camera panned to four or five guys, two of whom had managed to get their hands on a trumpet and saxophone while the others were making do with what they could find laying around, like pots and pans, but everybody seemed quite happy with the result - the lack of audio was almost a shame.

Bucky recognized a few faces as they came and went, mostly those of the men who would go on to be his fellow Howling Commandos and a few others. Every time he saw a picture of them or they came up in conversation with Steve, he couldn't help but silently wonder why none of them were chosen for HYDRA's experiments while he was. Of course, had Steve not freed them all, maybe they all eventually would have faced the same fate.

Stirring him out of his thoughts, the camera shifted then to Steve, who didn't seem all that aware of the camera as he talked to a woman Bucky instantly recognized as the ever-legendary Peggy. He glanced at Steve, then at Natasha as she commented, "She was definitely a knockout."

"Literally," Steve grinned.

Then Bucky looked back to the screen, did a double take, and then felt his eyes widen just by a fraction. He was suddenly staring at himself, and not just himself, but a woman whose face he'd remembered only the day before.

He was a little gaunt, a little too thin, but he was smiling, and they were dancing. Exuberantly dancing, swing dancing amid a small group of other couples, and they were both clearly good at it.

The woman - Vivian, he reminded himself - was dressed in a nurse's uniform, her hair pinned up under her little white hat in curls that fell more and more free from their restraints as he tossed her around with all the ease of someone pretending they hadn't been under torture only days before. He moved like an old pro, which he supposed he had been, flipping her like it had been the most natural thing in the world to do back then.

He stared at the smile on his own face, the identical one on hers, and he barely heard Stark's whistling or Thor's grunts of approval. All at once, it was almost like he was back in that very moment, close enough to touch it, and he could remember the dance and more, maybe a lot more if he sat down and let the vision flood his mind...

His feet almost twitched with the memory of dancing, something that had obviously once been second nature for him, but he hadn't been able to believe it until now, until he had seen it with his own eyes. Now he felt silly for ever doubting it. Watching himself, watching the steps he and the woman took, he could almost predict each one, and remember what it felt like to dance and move like that. Though the movie was silent, he could hear the distinct, seductive, gorgeous jazz music tickling his mind's ear, and how could he ever forget what it had felt like to dance with her?

Her...

There was something else nudging from within, a different scene from the same place, and he welcomed it with metaphorical open arms.

_After Peggy chided Steve for being late, and after Bucky himself had led a highly necessary cheer for Captain America, he had to steel himself and cover up a wince at the pain that the effort had unexpectedly caused him. He reasoned that it was just the walking all the way here that was to blame, that and living off little more than crumbs for the last few months, because it definitely had nothing to do with the days and days of injections and tests and tortures that had left him mumbling deliriously as he flirted with knocking on death's door..._

_But then there was a flash of very familiar, soft red in front of him, and his thoughts faded into the background noise as he stared at the nurse looking up at him with slightly moist eyes and red lips caught between a smile and a noticeable quiver._

_"I should slap you," she said, with absolutely no conviction and a whole lot of shaking in her words._

_"And here I was hoping you'd missed me at least a little bit," he replied, unable to stop from grinning at her. He could see how she was looking him over, could see the slight horror flickering through her green eyes as if what they did to him was scrawled out in plain English on his forehead, and that was the only thing about the moment that he didn't like._

_She shook her head. "You ever do this to me again, and I swear, I'll kill you myself."_

_"I could live with that." Then he grabbed her and kissed her, because if there was one thing he'd earned the right to do following his ordeal over the last few months, it was most definitely that._

_There were some whistles and a chuckle that sounded a lot like the now freakishly-tall Steve, but he paid them no mind, because for the first time in a long time, he almost felt good again._

He snapped out of it when that part of the film came to an end, then switched to a different part. His head ached a little at the rush of memories, but it was the sort of ache that was such a relief that it almost felt good, like the return of sensation after a long period of numbness. He glanced around the room, saw the knowing look on Steve's face before glancing at Summer and the somewhat tentative smile that she gave him.

He knew they'd both understand why he had to stand up and leave the room a few moments later, after the film ended. He was on the cusp of recovering a substantial piece of the puzzle within his mind, and he refused to do so while Tony Stark was cracking jokes in the same room.

* * *

"Well... that was riveting, Cap."

Steve glanced at Tony and shrugged. "I know it's a shocking idea that not everything is always for your benefit, but..."

"Yeah, unfortunately," Tony replied, glancing down sadly at his now-empty glass.

"Is your friend all right?" Thor asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

"I think so," Steve nodded. "I'm sure he just needed some time to think on his own. He's still trying to get it all back. I was hoping this would help."

Meanwhile, Summer sat back and watched as most of the Avengers sat around and discussed her boyfriend, her own head still spinning a bit from the video. She'd never been one for dancing, but seeing that made her wish with an unexpected desperation that she could dance with him like that.

And that nurse! Yeah, clearly, her theory about him and fondue had been on the money. Though, if she had to guess by his face in that video, it had been a bit more than fondue.

She returned to the present when she felt eyes on her, and she glanced up to find the culprit, as, of course, her sort-of new employer.

"So anyway, about the abstinence thing, I'm just curious - wh-"

"Stark!" Steve half-shouted in exasperation before Summer could even start stuttering out a response. "For God's sake, she works for you now!"

"So?"

"So, that's basically sexual harassment," Steve pointed out.

Tony almost laughed, then squinted and asked, "What do you know about sexual harassment? Back in your day, that's what they called flirting."

"SHIELD made him watch educational videos when they hired him," Natasha supplied helpfully.

Ignoring her, Steve said, "No, back in my day, we beat up the punks that talked to women like that."

"Geez, take it easy, Cap," Tony sighed. Then he turned back to Summer and asked, "Do you feel sexually harassed right now?"

She blinked and muttered, "Uh... no?"

"Good. So is it the Edward Cullen factor, except instead of being afraid of sucking all your blood, he might accidentally rip your head off when he's -"

She covered David's ears while Steve exclaimed, "Her five year old is right there!"

With a huff, Tony stood up and said, "Fine, you know what? Fine. Since I'm clearly offending Grandpa's morals, I'll just leave. Hey Thor, come with me, I've got something I need you to smash with that hammer."

A little sad that the Asgardian eye candy was leaving, Summer realized that she was actually starting to get used to all of this bizarre stuff. She was also still a little giddy from Thor calling her "Lady Solstice" earlier, but mostly, she was curious about the girl in the video.

"So... that girl," she asked when the room had grown quiet again. "Were they serious?"

"... Sort of. It was kind of complicated. I'm sure he would rather be the one to tell you about her once he remembers. And I think he does now."

She nodded. "I mean, it's not weird to me. I've always thought there was no way he didn't have something serious back then. Because he was... yeah." When Steve chuckled at her, she added, "Should I leave him alone tonight, then? While he thinks?"

Steve shrugged. "Not all night. I think it helps if he has someone to talk to after he first remembers."

She nodded, though a part of her felt as if Steve would be a much better choice than her, since he had been there and she obviously hadn't.

Still, she waited. She went about her night and her usual routine with David, and it whittled down the next few hours into pleasantly mundane blurs that ended with her little boy falling asleep in her arms. He was doing much better now than he had been just a few days ago, and his calmer state was like Xanax to her own nerves. When he was off, so was she, but when he was good, she felt great.

She moved him into his own bed after her arm started to hurt, and then, dressed still in the clothes she'd worn on the date, she quietly asked JARVIS to inform her if he woke up while she was gone before slipping out of the room. Having a British-voiced electronic butler was awesome, she had to admit.

After making her way down the hall, she found Bucky's door unlocked, as it normally was, and she knocked slightly before cracking it open. When she saw and heard no sign of him, she opened the door all the way and looked inside, but still saw no sign of him. She was about to close the door and go look for him in the common area, but then a cool breeze blowing gently through the curtains near his bed caught her attention.

Hoping that it didn't mean that he'd unexpectedly jumped out the window, she walked to the window and found out that it wasn't a window but a glass door she'd never noticed before.

The door was just slightly ajar, so she slid it open a bit further and peeked through it. What she saw wasn't big enough to be called a balcony, more like a slightly large ledge with a rail on it, but whatever it was technically called, Bucky was sitting on it with his boots dangling off of the edge. He glanced up at her, and that was when she got a whiff of smoke and a glimpse of the cigarette in his right hand. Interesting.

He was also still wearing his clothes from earlier, and that and his somewhat disheveled hair helped to make her suddenly find smoking attractive for the first time in her 25 years.

"Is this a bad time? Because I was just checking on you..."

He shook his head. "No." Then he scooted over slightly, and once she realized he was making room for her, she carefully walked out of the door and tried not to look down while she settled in next to him. A thin railing separating her and thirty-six floor drop was a little disconcerting to think about.

"So," she said after a moment, gesturing to his hand, "new habit?"

He shook his head, looking at the cigarette and explaining, "Old one. Steve thought it might help me remember."

That made sense. "Did it?"

She watched him put the thing to his lips, inhale slowly, and then let the smoke pour from his mouth as she failed horribly at trying to make herself think it was disgusting no matter how good he looked doing it. "Yeah."

"Good," she smiled, hugging her arms a bit to fight off the chill in the night air. "Want to talk about it?"

He glanced at her with just a hint of unease, like he wasn't sure if he should tell her or not, but after a moment or two, he tossed the cigarette over the railing - litterbug - and leaned his head back against the glass behind him and said, "All right."

* * *

Remembering, he discovered, was utterly bizarre. Before, when it was only the smallest bits and pieces that would come to him and leave almost as quickly, it was an exercise in frustration and anger and not much else. But tonight, he felt like he'd finally managed to grab a big piece of the puzzle, and now some of the smaller pieces had a place to go and fit next to. It was completely exciting and amazing, and yet it came with an underlying sadness that he couldn't easily shake.

Vivian, he now knew, had been more than a girl he'd taken dancing once or twice before he enlisted and she became an Army nurse. As it turned out, he had known her for some time in his past life, and she had been just as important as Steve had hinted at the day before.

Music had brought back the memory of her face and her name. The video had brought back the memory of dancing and of returning from the dead to greet her back in the land of the living. Then so much more had followed those visions that he still felt dizzy from it all.

"The girl in the video," he began quietly, "was named Vivian."

"She was very pretty."

She was. Very much so.

"Were you guys serious?"

The nice thing was, he didn't feel strange at all about talking to Summer about this. He had thought he might, but he didn't. "I think I wanted to marry her."

"... Wow. Definitely serious, then."

"Yeah but it was... it changed a lot," he said, trying to keep it all straight in his head. "Something was always in the way or one of us was always gone, I think..."

"So, kind of off and on?" Summer guessed.

He nodded, supposing that was one way of putting it. He couldn't remember every last detail yet, but he remembered her. He remembered her smile, her laugh, how smart she was, and how he always seemed to end up back in her life one way or another, despite seeming remember a steady stream of obstacles in their way. He remembered that she got along very well with Steve, and if he had to guess (which he did), he was pretty sure that his parents had liked her too.

Then, with the first experimental puff of the cigarettes that Steve had given him, he'd suddenly been back in her bed - or maybe his, it was hard to tell - and she was wearing a grin and little else as she placed one to his mouth. He inhaled and called her a bad influence as he exhaled, mirroring her grin, which made her laugh and point out their current position, which seemed to refute his point.

And then there was more. A lot more, and not all of it pleasant. There was flashes of fights and frustration, but what he remembered most was seeing her face after surviving HYDRA by the skin of his teeth. That was the defining moment, the one that unlocked the others, and the one that made him realize that they'd spoken quite seriously about getting married just before he headed back out to fight again, this time at Steve's side.

It was incredibly strange to remember having once felt such things for someone and then remember nothing of it until it suddenly came back in a rush. It was even stranger to realize that she was most likely dead now and that she'd had to mourn him twice, yet here he was, looking no older than he had back when they had been together.

"I can't get over seeing you dance," Summer said, rousing him from his wandering thoughts. He glanced at her to find her smiling lazily at him. "It was kind of amazing. Makes me wish you could teach me how to do it."

He returned her grin and said, "I remember dancing now, a lot more than I did before."

"Could you do it again?" she asked, a glint of excitement in her eyes.

"Maybe," he said noncommittally. "Not sure."

Then a moment or two passed, and then Summer quietly said, "It must be really weird and kind of hard to remember all of this. Especially since she's probably... not here anymore. I'm sorry."

It _was_ weird, and it _did_ hurt. He knew he'd be adjusting to what he'd learned for the next couple of days, and probably picking Steve's brain to fill in the details that he couldn't remember. It was a lot to take in. But in the midst of it all, something unexpected was starting to come to light at the forefront of his mind.

For everything he could remember about Vivian, about how enamored he'd been with her and ready to make her his wife once the war was over, something about it almost didn't make sense. Not because he wasn't remembering it right, because he was - no, it was something else. Something that seemed to nag at him even more once Summer had climbed out on this little oversized ledge with him.

He had wanted to marry this woman from his past. He had loved her - he could remember loving her, remember the feelings that had seemed to reach a pinnacle on that Army base in Europe. But if that was all true, then why did it all seem somehow dwarfed in comparison to what he felt right now?

He looked at Summer, sitting there hugging herself and enduring the cold for his sake, the faint wind blowing gently through her hair that looked almost fully black under the night sky, and he stared at her like she was some complicated equation that he was missing a crucial variable for. What was he missing? What was his brain trying to tell him?

Then she sighed and glanced up at him before smiling a little sheepishly and saying, "Don't take this the wrong way, because I really am incredibly happy that you remembered something big, but man... she was just stunning, and it's been kind of nice knowing until now that you haven't really been able to compare me to anyone else. Now I've probably got a lot more to... live up to or compete with, or... something."

And then, suddenly, there it was, like a giant flashing arrow sign from an old cartoon, telling him exactly what he'd been missing. What Summer was afraid of was, in fact, the complete and utter opposite of reality.

Now he did indeed have something to compare her to. The only woman, as far as he knew, that he'd ever considered asking to be his wife. A woman that had indeed been stunning, brilliant, the best one he'd ever found, until he had "died".

And yet, rather than Summer pale in comparison to his past, it seemed that his past seemed to pale in comparison to her.

He didn't realize that he was staring at her a little wide-eyed until she looked up at him and then suddenly grew concerned. "Are... you okay?"

He blinked a couple times and nodded, but he wasn't okay. No, he was absolutely screwed, because he had been completely oblivious to how deep his own feelings ran for this woman, and now that he had finally woken up to them, there was no going back.

He was dizzy again.

"Are you sure?"

He swallowed down a lump in his throat and looked away before she realized how very not okay he was. He didn't have the slightest clue how to verbalize any of this. He didn't even want to. She would probably choke in shock and accidentally fall off the ledge if he even tried.

But then he realized he'd never said anything back to her comment about comparing herself to his newly recovered memories. And if he couldn't say anything, then he had to at least do something.

But he did nothing for a long time, staring off in the distance and trying to recover from the shock of the last few moments. Eventually, the cold must have finally gotten to her, because Summer muttered something about grabbing a coat, and that of all things was what finally spurred him into action.

He said her name, stopping her before she'd gotten to her feet, and he grabbed the top of her arm and drew her closer. Her skin was cold, and she was shivering slightly, so he pulled her against his chest and kept his even colder metal arm away from her as his right hand left her arm to trail to her cheek. She looked up at him questioningly, and he wished that he could coherently answer her, but he simply could not. He'd have to save that for a time when all of this had fully sunken in and he could say the words the way that she deserved to hear them.

So, for now, he lowered his lips to hers almost excruciatingly slowly. He kissed her differently than he ever had before, trying to express through touch what his words couldn't, and he felt her shiver from something other than the cold. He let his other hand come up and help his other one cradle her face, his eyes shut tightly as he poured all of his concentration and will into showing her, as best as he could, how irrevocably special and unmovable her place in his life was.

When he drew away from the kiss, letting his forehead fall against hers, he opened his eyes just enough to see hers still closed as she breathed through her mouth. Then she looked up at him, her cheeks flushed and expression mildly bewildered, and he kissed her again, before she could say a word and break the moment.

He knew he'd never be able to fully express everything swirling around his head through a few soft touches and a handful of kisses, but right now, they were all that he had. She deserved more, and eventually, he'd be able to give her more. But for now, he kissed her as if he'd never felt it so deeply before in his life, and the thing was, as he now knew, he truly had not.

**A/N: this chapter was one of my favorites to write. Leather-wearing and smoking Bucky was a distinct contributing factor to that, not gonna lie :p And Esteban was another highlight. He may be around in future chapters occasionally :) Anyway, my usual big huge thanks to all of you wonderful readers and reviewers for continuing to read &amp; support this story. Thank you SO MUCH. And thank you to midnightwings96, as always, for being indispensably awesome and helping out a LOT with this story. See you all next week :D **


	13. Chapter 13

As it turned out, being assistant to an assistant in a corporate office was not the boring job Summer initially anticipated it to be. Mundane was a better fitting word, at least once the first week had passed and she had gotten the hang of it.

Rather than sit behind a desk doing who knows what all day, she was on her feet and out the door more times than she could count. Whether it was getting someone's lunch, dry cleaning, even shuttling things like small boxes and envelopes between Stark Tower and other businesses like a messenger girl, she spent more of her day in cabs than she did in Pepper Pott's office. And if there was one thing she had learned in that first week, it was that gel insoles for the heels she forced herself to wear were nothing short of gifts from the very heavens above.

It was near noon on her one-week anniversary of starting the new job that she handed her boss, Pepper's actual assistant, a bag containing her lunch as the woman somewhat angrily slammed her phone down into its cradle before looking up and snatching the bag and setting it down on her desk. "Thanks," she muttered, glancing at her computer and then saying without looking up, "Go take your break."

The assistant, whose name was Deanna, had been relatively nice enough, but she had an air about her of being constantly overworked and perpetually irritated, except for when Pepper was nearby, which was when she'd smile brightly and act perfectly cheerful. Summer had expected her demeanor to improve since she now had an assistant to ease the load, but no such luck yet.

"Okay," Summer replied, lingering in front of her desk. "Did you need anything else before I -"

"No," Deanna monotoned, picking up her phone and pushing the buttons harder than was necessary. "I'd hurry up and go if I were you. I'm gonna need you to take the phone for me when you get back."

She smiled. "Oh okay. Awesome." Deanna looked up at her slightly incredulously, but Summer shrugged and then headed off. Answering the phone meant sitting down, and sitting down somewhere other than in the backseat of a cab would be a nice change for that particular day.

She headed to the elevator, down through a corridor containing other little cubicles and a number of people she passed along the way. Some of them had Deanna's harried expression, others were just busy, and a few smiled and nodded as she walked past them. So far, most everybody had been a lot nicer than she'd expected, and she couldn't understand why Deanna seemed so miserable all the time. Maybe it was just the fact that Summer's employment history was less than lustrous, but this job was, so far, awesome.

Once she got to the elevator, she was smiling slightly to herself without even realizing it. Once she did realize it, after the elevator started its descent to the floor that the childcare room was located on, she didn't try to stop or hide it, because why should she? Yeah, she was still adjusting, and so was David, and she still missed the crap out of her home and hoped the scumbags that blew it up got Steve's shield to their faces soon, but the changes brought by the disaster had all been almost entirely good. She had a job now and wouldn't be scraping by on student loans and savings that were nearly gone. David had proven himself resilient and had surprised her by how well he'd taken to daycare - if he kept it up, maybe she could even get him into kindergarten soon.

And then, of course, there was the main reason why she walked with a bit more of a bounce in her step now than she ever had before. But he could wait until after she peeked in on her kid.

Once she got to the childcare room, the smiling middle-aged lady at the little pick-up window immediately informed her that all the kids in David's section were asleep for a nap.

She blinked. "A nap?"

"Yes ma'am," the woman smiled.

"He... doesn't take naps."

"Well," the woman shrugged, "sometimes when kids see other kids sleeping, it does the trick. They all fell asleep watching Finding Nemo."

Her eyebrows went even higher. He didn't even like that movie! "Wow. Okay, um... well, thank you," she said, frowning a little as she walked off towards the elevator once more, unsure of what to do with her hour break now that she had it to herself. She'd already eaten during her last errand - New York City street food was awesome, at least so far - so she couldn't kill an hour that way.

Only one thing left to do, then. Once the elevator doors closed in front of her, leaving her thankfully alone in the small space, she looked up at the ceiling and said quietly, "... JARVIS?"

"Yes, Ms. McAdams?"

"Would you happen to know where Bucky is?"

"He is currently deflecting punches on the thirty-second floor."

Her eyes widened a little. "Oh... uh..."

"There is a gym located on that floor, Miss. The punches appear to be friendly."

Oh. She smiled and shook her head at herself. "Right. Okay, thanks, Mister Robot Voice."

"I do prefer JARVIS, ma'am."

"You're an artificial intelligence - how can you prefer anything?" she asked, eyebrow raised.

"I would answer that question, but it would serve to inflate my designer's ego more than is currently necessary."

She grinned. "You're a sassy robot."

"I prefer 'sharp-witted intelligence'."

She chuckled, then looked down at herself as the elevator approached the thirty-second floor. She was wearing her black pencil skirt that had turned out to be a great investment, and a short-sleeved, somewhat dark blue blouse. Hoping that JARVIS wasn't watching and judging her, she undid the top button of the shirt and then checked her hair with her fingertips, finding it still safely done up at the back of her head with the face-framing pieces in the front still in place. She felt a little like a teenager dressing up as some professional corporate chick trying to climb the ladder, but her updo was just messy enough to be youthful and she was pleasantly surprised that she could actually pull off the professional look at all.

Once the doors opened, her heels clicked softly against the spotless floor just before the elevator as she looked around. The floor seemed split into two hallways, and she looked down each one before shrugging and heading down the one to her left, for no particular reason. She started to think that she'd chosen right when she heard slight clanking sounds coming from ahead, and when she finally reached the end of the long hall, she turned a corner and was then staring right into an enormous open space looking every bit like the extravagant gym one would find in a billionaire's skyscraper, if that was a thing. Apparently it was a thing.

And the gym happened to be crawling with Avengers and their pals. The first to notice her was Natasha, who was closest to the entrance and wrapping up her hands as she looked up and grinned. "Come to see the show?"

"What show?" Summer asked, glancing past Natasha and catching a glimpse of a metal gleam on the other side of the room. There was Bucky, who appeared to be stretching or something, and she recognized the golden head of Thor a few yards away from him - Thor, who was casually tossing his hammer up in the air and catching it, and who was dressed in a black tank that almost made her teeth chatter.

Suddenly snapping out of it, she looked back to Natasha and thought that she'd just missed her reply. "What?"

"I haven't answered yet. I was waiting for you to stop drooling first," she answered with a wry grin.

"Thor's wearing a tank top," Summer replied, as if that was all the explanation needed.

Natasha glanced over her shoulder and inclined her head slightly. "Yeah... it's somewhat distracting."

Finally, they agreed on something. Summer smiled and then asked, "So, what show?"

Natasha gestured to Bucky and explained, "He thinks he can hold his own against a god. Steve says yes, Sam and I say no."

Summer almost immediately sided with Steve's opinion, but... Thor did have a magic hammer. She paused, mentally weighing the hammer against Bucky's arm before deciding she had no idea what she was even thinking about and shrugging, "Well, this is gonna kill me."

"Why, because of all of the frustrated hormones?"

Summer glanced up and muttered, "Honestly, yes."

With another grin, Natasha said, "Good, come get a front row seat, then."

Bucky didn't notice her arrival as she walked closer, walking past rows and rows of exercise equipment before glancing to her right and doing a double take as her jaw nearly hit the floor. If she'd had time to think about it, she would have known that Steve wouldn't really find a whole lot of use in an average human being's gym, but since she hadn't thought of that, she stood in slight shock and stared up at him as he used a treadmill like a normal man would use a barbell.

"Hi," he smiled with a mild grimace, though not really breaking a sweat as he lifted the thing up and down.

"... Hi," she muttered back, smiling and shaking her head a little bit. Not far off was Sam, making do with the kind of weights that the rest of Earth had to settle for, muttering about showoffs and actively breaking a sweat. Then she glanced at Natasha, whose thoughts were for once almost completely readable on her face as she watched Steve's antics with a distinctly, and darkly, delighted expression. Then Summer looked away, reflexively wondering what in the world their nights together even involved, considering their various... er... strengths. Then she shook her head and refocused her attention on her own super soldier, who was still oblivious to her presence.

"I'd make a comment about super-soldier stamina," Natasha remarked, having moved on, "but you wouldn't understand yet."

"... When did this become common knowledge, by the way?" Summer asked, perching on a bench, glancing at Bucky and confirming that he still hadn't seen her.

Natasha smiled at her a bit similarly one would smile at a child who had asked a very silly question and replied, "Its not. In layman's terms, I am a very good judge of people."

"... Including whether people are getting any or not?" she asked, a little wide-eyed.

Natasha shrugged. "It's easier than you think, if you know what to look for." She glanced at Bucky and said, "His shoulders and eyebrows are the giveaways."

"His... what?"

"Tension. Steve used to look almost exactly the same," Natasha replied with a small grin before looking at Summer. "And as for you, it's the constant blushing."

"I don't think it's a constant thing, necessarily..."

Natasha gave her a look. She rolled her eyes in defeat.

"Well, fine, whatever. But that probably won't change after -"

The sound of of a somehow distinctly metal punch caught her off mid-sentence, and suddenly all eyes were on Bucky and the Asgardian royalty who had gamely let him throw the first punch. Thor blocked it with minimal effort, and apparently in the interest of fairness, his hammer sat innocently in the corner.

Looking at the two men, Summer got the distinct impression that neither one of them took the other particularly seriously. Bucky still thought it was weird that Asgard was actually a place and aliens a real thing, and Summer suspected that he thought Thor was a bit of a joke. Thor, on the other hand, surely held a high standard by which he could be impressed by a mortal's abilities, and he hadn't crossed paths with Bucky during his terrifying assassin days, so he didn't seem all that concerned either.

Which was why he was a little surprised when his own blow was deflected with ease a few seconds later. Summer bit her lip, unsure of exactly how far this was supposed to go - were they supposed to try to actually hurt each other? - and then she flinched in surprise when Thor threw a kick that Bucky sidestepped before surprising everybody watching by landing a backhanded strike to Thor's jaw with his right hand.

Even Thor looked surprised for a moment. Then he lunged forward, and Summer wasn't sure exactly what Bucky did, but it looked like some fancy gymnastics-y flip that resulted in him swinging behind Thor and landing his knee harshly to the middle of his back. It didn't look like it hurt Thor much, but it annoyed him, and from there, Summer watched with a slackened jaw as the two men progressively became more irritated with the other and showed it by hitting harder. And yet they seemed to be enjoying themselves at the same time.

"Well, well, who was right... again?" Summer heard Steve gloat from behind her, but Natasha waved him off.

"Wait more than two minutes before you claim victory, Rogers."

"I didn't say he'd beat Thor - I said he'd hold his own," Steve pointed out.

Summer tuned it all out, somewhat dazed by the sheer skill and almost viciousness of what she was watching. Thor literally tossed Bucky into the wall, leaving a human-shaped dent there, and he just got up from the floor as if it had been nothing and tried to tackle Thor in response.

And the fact that they were arguably the two most attractive men she'd ever seen might have contributed to her stupor, just a tad.

"Holy... crap..."

She only realized that she said it out loud when she heard Natasha chuckle next to her. "How's those hormones?"

She laughed, then flinched and hissed outside of her control when Bucky took a full Asgardian fist to his face. After his head whipped to the side and he staggered back, he opened his eyes and finally noticed Summer standing there watching. For one very brief second, she stared back and was caught between genuine concern for him and appreciation for how good he looked with his hair a mess and harmless rage in his eyes. Then a blur of silver caught her eye, and before she could realize that Mjolnir was flying directly at the man she was staring at, his metal arm shot up to cover his face, and the legendary hammer bounced off of the arm and went barreling into the wall instead. Tony Stark was gonna be pissed about his gym being partially demolished.

Bucky stared at the wall for a moment, as did Thor, and everyone seemed collectively surprised that the hammer had actually bounced off of his arm. But then the brief interlude was over, and it was back to ridiculously quick and intense hand to hand combat, though the hammer did make a reappearance from time to time.

Realizing the hilarious undertones of watching a millennia-old mythical figure wage mock battle with her almost century-old boyfriend, Summer continued to watch in rapt attention and eventually let her inner monologue find its way out again.

"Thor's like... Wreck-It Ralph and Fix-It Felix all in one..."

Cursing silently when she realized she'd said that out loud as well, she glanced at Natasha to find her eyeing her with slight confusion. Steve was equally clueless, but to her right, the still-seated Sam chuckled and replied, "Good one."

Well, at least one of them was a Disney fan.

She flinched again when it was Thor's turn to get pummeled into the wall, further damaging the room, and suddenly Summer was reminded of all of the footage from the invasion of New York that she'd seen over the last few years. Thor perched on top of a building, lighting the whole thing up with lightning, Thor on the very building she was currently standing in, battling his brother who vaguely resembled some weird kind of bug with his helmet on...

She glanced slightly nervously at Natasha, then asked quietly, "You, uh... you probably... met... and fought... Loki, right?"

"That's one way of putting it. Why?"

Summer opened her mouth, but then closed it, deciding that she didn't need the potential judgment that came with asking the question she'd nearly asked. She focused once more on Bucky, who nearly gave her a heart attack by actually head-butting Thor before throwing more punches, all while his metal arm whizzed and clicked and shifted plates to accommodate the force of the blows. But then Natasha broke her concentration and asked one more time, "Why?"

She stifled a groan and decided she really didn't care about the judgment thing. "Well, I know he was horrible and evil and psycho and all that, but... in the footage he looked really... ah... you, know, from a purely physical perspective -"

"What's your question?" Natasha asked, tone bored.

"Was it just the camera angle or something or was he really that attractive?"

Natasha's poker face gave away nothing for the few seconds that it took her to give an answer. "No."

That was not the answer she'd anticipated. "Really?"

"To be honest," Natasha explained, "the footage didn't do him justice."

"Oh." Well then.

Behind them, Steve groaned. "Ugh, Nat..."

"She said purely physical perspective," Natasha shrugged. "And purely physically, he was -"

"I really don't want to hear the rest of that sentence," Steve interrupted, prompting Natasha to grin.

"Hey, you want me to be honest, right?"

"Maybe not all the time," Steve admitted.

Summer stopped listening to them when a voice from the doorway made everyone stop and look there, including Bucky and Thor.

"And here I thought JARVIS was joking when he said you guys were destroying my gym. Least you could have done was invite me to the party."

Tony Stark's appearance suddenly reminded Summer that she was on a work break, and after fishing her phone from her pocket and checking how much longer she had, she glanced up to find Thor - sporting a nice little cut near his eyebrow and significantly messier but still glorious hair - smiling brightly at Tony and saying, "My apologies, Tony! The damage is my fault for underestimating my opponent."

He clapped Bucky on the shoulder then, and where a lesser man would have likely fallen over from the unintended force of it, Bucky didn't budge. He glanced up at Thor and nodded. "Yeah. Good fight."

"Indeed," Thor agreed. "I was wrong to assume that arm was the majority of your strength. You are quite skilled."

Bucky nodded, only seeming slightly awkward as he appeared to think for a minute before answering, "And you're... okay, I guess."

Thor laughed at that, clapping him again before he started heading away from the open area and towards Summer, whom his gaze instantly fixed upon. She looked him over as he came closer, noting a bruise on his cheekbone that was already looking rather ugly and what looked like a cut on the top of his forehead - probably from when he decided it was a good idea to headbutt the "god of thunder" - and as soon as he was close she reached out a hand to his cheek and said, "You should really put some ice on that."

He shrugged off her concern, taking her hand from his face and loosely holding it as he glanced at Steve and shared what Summer could only describe as a "bro-nod" before he turned back to her and asked, "Break?"

"Yep. Just in time to watch you and Thor beat each other up," she grinned.

He started to lead her away from the group, their hands still lightly entwined as he gave her a look and asked, "Enjoy watching?"

"Honestly, I could watch you beat up other beautiful men all day," she shrugged. "Is that weird?"

"Probably."

As they headed out of the gym, Tony called after them, "I'm sending you a bill, Buck-o!"

Summer laughed and Bucky rolled her eyes, walking them out into the hallway and towards the elevator. "Where we going?" she asked conversationally, noticing how the sounds of her heels hitting the floor with each step had drawn his eyes to her legs. "Back to our floor?"

He nodded. "When are you off?"

"Five," she replied. They stopped in front of the elevator, and she took the opportunity to scrutinize his bruised cheek again. "I'm going up with you and making you put ice on that."

"It'll heal in a day or two either way -"

"I don't care," she protested. "You can't argue with a mother about things like this."

He grinned a little, just as the elevator doors opened and they stepped inside. A few more minutes of lighthearted bickering followed until they reached the thirty-sixth floor, which was where she physically dragged him to a stool near the bar and made him sit as she went to the freezer. She grabbed the first thing she could find, which was a bag of mixed vegetables, and then marched back to where he sat. He eyed the bag like it was offensive as she held it out for him to take, so she sighed and pressed it to his cheekbone for him. He hissed a little at the coldness, but he got over it quickly, sighing in resignation as she watched his eyes scan over her.

His gaze stopped at her chest, and she didn't expect his fingers that rose up to brush against the opening of her blouse as he noted, "This was buttoned higher earlier."

The way she saw it, she could either be embarrassed at being caught, or she could own it and try to copy the sort of grins that Natasha was a master of. She settled for somewhere in the middle as his eyes flickered up to hers, smiling as she said, "Yeah... you caught me."

He nudged the fabric further apart, then let his fingers play with the next button as he looked up again and asked, "For me?"

She made a slight scoffing sound. "No, for all the cab drivers. Of course it's for you." When he pried open the next button, revealing a bit of the black lace of her bra, her grip on the frozen bag faltered a little and she looked around the room as she hissed, "Hey now - anyone could walk in here -"

He ignored her, leaning forward and away from the bag as he pressed a kiss to the very top of her chest, just above her cleavage, and she dropped the bag on the counter in defeat as she half-heartedly tried pushing him away with her hand that had shot into his hair. "I've got seriously twelve minutes until I have to get back to work!"

"You can do a lot with twelve minutes," he murmured against her skin, holding her by her hips and peppering little kisses along the tops of her breasts as she failed to stop him.

She groaned at his comment, silently cursing and also praising his recent slight spike in confidence. She was sure that it was thanks to his recently recovered memories, which surely involved some most likely amazing physical ones. He was making more comments like these and, rather than looking at her as if he was contemplating what he wanted to do to her, he had been looking at her like he knew exactly what he wanted to do to her.

And that was exactly what he did a moment later, peeking up at her and grinning faintly at her flustered smile as she muttered, "You're killing me here."

"Only fair," he shrugged, gesturing to her blouse.

"Hey, all I did was pop open a button. I didn't start kissing on you and giving you sex eyes ten minutes before you had to be somewhere."

"You can if you want. I won't stop you," he replied, bringing her closer once more and resuming the maddening kisses along the parts of her chest that were exposed.

"I don't... ugh," she muttered, closing her eyes at the little sparks caused by his persisting touch, "I don't know how to give sex eyes."

He chuckled and stopped to look up at her again. "Yeah you do. You were doing it down in the gym."

"... I was?" she asked skeptically.

"You do it all the time."

She did? Suddenly she was very concerned what this supposed look of hers actually looked like. Hopefully it wasn't just wide-eyed staring and drool dripping from the corner of her mouth. Oh man. This could be bad. "Uh..."

Then he stood up, and his lips were on hers before she had a chance to start overthinking. He backed her up against the kitchen counter and she succumbed helplessly to the way that he kissed her, barely noticing what his hands were doing with the front of her shirt until he broke away from her lips. Breathing a bit heavier than she had been before, she looked up at him and then glanced down, finding her blouse fixed and buttoned fully.

"The cab drivers might be disappointed," she joked.

"Good," he muttered before kissing her once more, just before he turned and began heading for his room.

She checked the time once more, biting her lip in frustration when she saw that she was all but out of time. She would have called after him that she'd make him pay later for making her drag herself back to work as a big ball of frustration, but the thing was, she couldn't make him pay yet in the way that she really wanted to.

But one day, hopefully sooner than she thought, she would. She mentally vowed this as Bucky shot her one more look before closing his door, the lingering hint of a crooked grin on his lips her hint that he was thinking along the same lines as she was.

She turned around and headed back to the elevator with a heavy sigh. "One fricking day."

* * *

"It's just... really... strange."

On the penthouse level of Stark Tower, sitting outside on the very same area that had once been one of the frontlines of the Battle of New York, sat two very old and yet still very young men, speaking of an experience that very few others in the world, if any, could relate to.

Steve nodded his agreement, looking out towards the city and the buildings that hadn't existed back when he first lived there. "Yeah, strange is one way of putting it."

Staring down at his feet dangling off into the steep drop beneath them, Bucky shook his head slightly and said, "It feels like it was yesterday, but at the same time. It doesn't. I can't... I don't know."

"Wrap your head around it?" Steve guessed. "Yeah. It'll take awhile. I'm not really sure it'll ever feel... right, exactly." Then he glanced over at Bucky and added, "I'm sorry. She lived a great life."

It was nearly impossible to convey in words how bizarre it was to suddenly remember, almost out of the blue, a woman that he'd loved enough to want to marry before the fall, and then almost immediately discover that she had died only a few years earlier at the age of 89. It was so disjointed and startling, and a week later, Bucky was still trying to process it all.

The nice thing was, however, he didn't have to convey it in words, because Steve understood.

"She made it big," Bucky eventually said.

"Oh yeah," Steve nodded. "I've seen some of her stuff. She got to do everything she wanted."

"I knew she would." Bucky then furrowed his brows a bit and added, "I think."

"You did. Always encouraged her to go after her dreams."

The nurse he'd loved had gone on to become an accomplished actress and singer, after the war was over. She wasn't some easily forgotten actress who'd only had one or two recognizable roles - she had left an impressive and distinguished mark on the world that she'd loved. "And she got married. Two kids, too."

Steve nodded. "She seemed real happy."

And Bucky was glad that she had been. He was happy that she'd gotten everything she'd wanted and more, that she hadn't given up and had worked hard to get the success that she'd achieved. It was just hard to accept when a part of him felt as if he should be able to tell her that himself, that he should be able to walk around the corner and show up to her apartment and take her out dancing to celebrate it all. Now, the closest he could get was her grave, and he didn't want to go there.

And it was all doubly difficult when he hadn't remembered a thing about her until just a week earlier.

"I looked her up when I... woke up," Steve said. "She started a foundation for vets and never stopped helping people after she left nursing. She gave an interview where she talked about you, how you inspired her and she wanted to honor your memory."

Bucky looked at Steve a little warily, a little wide-eyed just by a fraction, torn between the need to see this interview for himself and the fear of what it would do to him to see it.

"I'll send you the link," Steve said quietly. "You can watch it whenever you decide you're ready."

Bucky nodded, looking back to the skyline and letting his thoughts swirl around in his head before Steve's voice interrupted them.

"Now that you remember her, it's not gonna... cause problems, is it? It's just that it took me a long time to move on. I know what you're feeling."

Bucky sighed, taking a minute before answering his friend. "That's the thing. Now that I remember her, it's helped me... understand some things. With Summer."

"Yeah?"

He nodded, still staring ahead. "Yeah. It was hard to know when I couldn't remember, but..."

"You love her," Steve surmised. Bucky turned and looked at him curiously, and Steve just smiled a little and said, "Look, I was around the whole time you were hung up on Vivian. I remember the way you looked when you with her. And with Summer, it's like that, only... more."

And that was only further confirmation to what Bucky had already figured out. Then he felt a hand pat his upper arm, and he looked over to see Steve grinning. "I'm happy for you. Honestly, she's as close to perfect for you as it gets. You would have liked her back then just as much as you do now."

He thought on that for a moment, before asking quietly, "Do you think... for her... you think it's the same?"

"Bucky," Steve began, "look at what's happened to her this year. Look at all she's been through and how devoted to you she's been through it all. And look at the way she lights up when she sees you. She's an open book."

Looking back down, Bucky replied, "That's what I think most of the time, but sometimes I just wonder... why. Why she hasn't run yet."

"The answer to that isn't as complicated as you think."

Maybe not. Maybe Steve was right. Maybe Bucky wasn't the only one with feelings that ran as deeply as his did. But Summer, as much of an open book as she was, didn't have the kind of experience that Bucky had just remembered that he had. He had the feeling that they'd both been a bit clueless all along, and now that he was less clueless, it was a shift that would definitely take some getting used to.

After a few moments of silence, Bucky asked, "Can you send me that link?"

"Yep," Steve nodded, dragging his phone out of his pocket.

Afterwards, after Bucky's phone buzzed with the incoming text and he let it be for the moment, knowing he'd rather be alone to watch the interview, Steve took a moment or two before saying, "Don't take this the wrong way, because I wouldn't wish any of this on anyone, especially not you. I know how it hurts and how hard it is to accept. But until now, I don't think anyone else in the world could really understand what it was like to... wake up one day and still be young but find out the person you loved is... either gone or can't remember you."

"It sucks," Bucky muttered, some of the current century's vernacular starting to come natural to him.

"Yeah. But, on the bright side, we've both come out pretty lucky with dames, right?" Steve grinned, pulling him right back to the time that they were both supposed to still be living in.

"No offense," Bucky replied, "but I don't know if I'd call you lucky."

Steve chuckled. "Well, you know me. Can't ever go for the safe option."

That made Bucky almost snort. "Do those even exist anymore?"

"I don't know," Steve sighed. "Probably not. At least not for us."

And that was true on a number of levels. But it was what it was. And anyway, safety was overrated.

After awhile, as the sun started disappearing behind the buildings in the distance, Bucky gathered his legs up off the ledge and said, "By the way, your room isn't soundproof. Keep it down or I'm gonna have to switch rooms again."

"... Oh. Uh... sorry," Steve replied, instantly flustered.

"And there's a kid around now, too, and he's not deaf."

"Right. No, you're right."

Trying not to laugh at Steve's ever-more flushed face, Bucky added as he stood up, "Also, you might not understand her when she starts speaking Russian, but I do, and I'm trying very hard to forget what I heard."

Suddenly Steve's eyes widened and he turned around and asked, "What did she say? She never tells me no matter what I -"

"Don't ask me, because I am never repeating it," Bucky vowed with complete and utter seriousness, grimacing at the memory as he left Steve sitting there on the edge of the building, mildly embarrassed and considering learning Russian himself.

* * *

Of the things that Bucky was happy to get used to following Summer's moving in a hallway away from him, it was the casual, everyday sort of affectionate touches that they hadn't had before. Whether it was due to mutual awkwardness in the beginning or her initial desire to keep their relationship hidden from her son, they hadn't done much in the way of lounging together on a couch with Summer half-laying on him until now, at least not without caring who would see. Now, however, it was becoming part of his usual expectations for his evenings in the tower, and it was wonderfully soothing to his nerves.

That night, after dinner was over and the floor's other residents had all either wandered off to their own rooms or gone off to do who knows what else, he found himself on one of the couches, nestled comfortably into the corner of it while Summer sat curled into his left side with her bare feet propped up on the coffee table in front of the couch. He didn't know why she always seemed to choose that side to snuggle into, since it couldn't be all that comfortable in the practical sense, but she seemed to always end up there one way or another.

She was playing on her phone, and he was half-watching her son play a video game in front of the TV. Sam had something called a "Playstation 4", whatever that was, and David had taken to it like a fish to water. In fact, he was pretty sure that the kid hadn't moved an inch in the last hour.

A familiar sounding tune coming from Summer's phone stole his attention from the television, and he glanced over her shoulder to find her watching her watching on her sideways-facing phone a black and white video of what he quickly recognized as swing dancing. The song itself brought forth his recently-recovered memories back to the surface, and with a faint smile tugging at his lips, he asked quietly, "Why are you watching that?"

"No reason," came her reply, but he could hear the smile in her tone.

"Really?"

After a moment, she hit the pause button and then turned around to face him, indeed smiling as she said, "Okay - so I was thinking. And you need a hobby, right?"

"... Right," he said a little cautiously.

"And you remember how to dance now. At least a little. Right?"

Probably more than a little, even if he would be the very definition of rusty. "Right."

"Okay, so," she smiled, "I was thinking that we could try dancing. Not going out anywhere to do it - just doing it here, with you teaching me how. Which might be almost impossible, considering how bad I suck, but I've also never really tried before, so who knows?"

"... You really want to?" he asked in somewhat of surprise, though the ghost of a smile was still on his face.

"Yeah, why not?" she asked cheerfully. "It'll be fun. But only if you want to, of course."

He looked around the room then, several questions passing through his head before he settled on, "Where?"

She shrugged and then looked around. "Well, I guess we'd kinda need an open space, but... I could just move the furniture around in here."

Before he could formulate a response, she had jumped out of his arms and was on her feet, doing a quick sweep of the room before deciding to start with the coffee table. He watched with slight amusement and surprise as she started dragging it back, and she looked up and grinned halfway through, "If you want to help me here, Mister Super-Soldier, feel free."

He grinned back and then stood up, and in a few minutes, all of the furniture in the living room had been pushed aside to make a large, empty area in the center, all while David kept playing as if nothing was happening behind him. Summer giggled at the ease with which Bucky moved it all, and then once it was done, she gestured to Steve's record player and asked, "Does he have some records that'll work?"

"I think so," Bucky replied, walking over to the shelf that the record player sat on. Steve had left it there with his records in the section next to it, and as Bucky thumbed through them carefully, a few of the titles rang familiar. But before he plucked one from the shelf, he turned around and looked at Summer with a little bit of uncertainly and said, "It's probably gonna take awhile for me to... really remember what I'm doing."

"Oh, I know!" she said brightly. "And I have no clue how to even start learning to dance, so I think it'll be extra fun. But I also have a feeling that you're gonna be better than you think."

"Why?" he asked, genuinely curious.

She shrugged a little. "I don't really know. Just a feeling. You wanna watch a video first? Like a refresher?"

He considered that idea for a moment, but then decided to test his memory first and see how much would come back naturally with just the music. He could remember the steps now, remember dancing like it had been yesterday and yet from a different life at the same time. Maybe it would balance out in the end and his feet would remember the same way that his head did.

"Nah. Let's just try it out and see what happens."

She smiled at his decision, and then he turned back around to pick out a record. There was one that he definitely remembered dancing to in the old clubs he used to take girls to, so he picked that one and put it on while Summer turned down David's game to a more reasonable volume.

As the billowing, rhythmic brass and effortless jazz piano of the first song filled his ears, he stared at the record player for a moment, the intricate notes taking him back to times that were becoming increasingly clear the more that he successfully recalled them. He turned around and looked at the woman waiting a few feet away from him. For half a second, he almost expected to see vibrant red hair and a long green dress that he could suddenly remember in almost perfect detail. But then the image faded and instead, he saw dark hair, blue jeans, and a nervous grin.

The same twinge of sadness that he'd been feeling a lot lately struck once again, but it faded in the light of the present and what he was lucky enough to have within it. Keeping his eyes on hers, he stepped forward and closed the gap between them, reaching out and taking both of her hands in his before pulling her closer and taking a deep breath.

"Should I change into a dress?" she asked unexpectedly. "Even I know nobody swing dances in jeans."

"Or barefoot," he shrugged. "Doesn't matter for now."

She nodded, and then grinned and looked down at her feet as he shifted them a bit, trying to get a feel for the music and let his memories do the rest. He learned rather quickly that the less he thought and the more he just let it come naturally, the better the result.

They started off slow. Summer watched the steps he took intently, the grin never leaving her lips, while he slowly gained confidence the more that he moved and found that it did indeed come naturally. He smiled as he taught her a few of the basic steps, and though he could tell how silly she felt trying to copy him, she made a genuine effort, and after a few tries, they were able to speed it up a little.

The first time he spun her out and then drew her back in, he watched the smile bloom across her face with great satisfaction just before doing it again. He could feel a great difference between this and the time they'd danced on their first date - it had been pleasant and fun, but it had felt mostly foreign. There was nothing foreign about this, however, and it made it all the more enjoyable.

"Hey," she said after he'd twirled her around a couple of times, "you're not gonna start flipping me around without warning me, are you? Because I'd probably end up hurting us both somehow."

He chuckled and shook his head. "I'll go easy on you this time."

Her eyes flashed a little and she looked to be on the verge of a response when he instead made her giggle by spinning her out again and pulling her back in such a way that made her come to a stop with her back to his chest. Her eyes widened a bit in surprise and caught his amused gaze. With a wide grin, he placed a sweet kiss to her neck before turning her again back into the standard closed position.

During the time that they spent dancing and laughing in the living room, David had turned around to glance at them a few times. He would look at them both like they were aliens in the midst of an odd alien ritual before losing interest and turning back to his game, which Summer noticed once and found adorable. Bucky took advantage of her momentary distraction by letting go of her hands and grabbing her by her waist with both hands, picking her up and instantly making her start squealing protests.

"Gah, I'm not ready for the flipping yet! Don't flip me! Don't -"

"I'm not," he laughed, though a part of him wanted to do it anyway just to see her reaction. Instead, he simply picked her up and turned them in a circle before putting her down and taking her hands once more, spinning her to face him. "See?"

"Uh huh," she grinned back with slight distrust. "Sure. Look at how good you're doing. You're totally gonna flip me."

He grinned unashamedly. "Well, if you really want me to..."

"No!" she laughed, looking down at his feet again as she tried to keep up with him. "I've already almost tripped and fallen over just doing the easy stuff!"

"You'll catch on," he shrugged. And he really thought she would. If he could come back from all he'd been through and still be able to do this, then surely she could overcome her anxiety and get the hang of it, too.

He lost track of how long they danced, but it eventually came to an end when the mysterious game on the TV stopped holding David's attention and he threw an empty cup at his oblivious mother to signal that he wanted a snack. She didn't even scold him for it, instead slipping out of Bucky's arms and picking up the cup before running a hand through her hair and turning back to Bucky with a smile while breathing a bit heavily. "This is fun! I like it. I'm terrible, but it's still fun. Can we do this more? Maybe a couple times a week or something?"

He nodded without hesitation. "Yeah. Maybe not in this room, but..."

"Oh yeah, I'll figure out somewhere else we can go," she nodded, glancing down at David, who was now impatiently tugging at her shirt. She nodded at him and then looked back up again with a smile. "I think I'm gonna be kinda sore in the morning, actually."

About ten different retorts flew through his head, none of them exactly appropriate to say in front of her kid, but before he could even open his mouth, she had dashed off to the kitchen. He ended up snorting quietly at himself before running a hand through his own hair and glancing back towards the record player.

While Summer rummaged around in the kitchen, he let the record keep playing, eventually ending up near a huge window and looking out at the lit up city as the music played and tickled at his memories. It seemed fitting, listening to the music he remembered and staring out a city he did and did not remember at the same time. The past and present was overlapped and connected in a way that made no sense and could probably drive a mind insane if it focused too much on it, but somehow, in that moment, he felt calm. Calmer than he probably should, but he wasn't one to question such a feeling when it came over him.

He had been staring out the window for some minutes when he saw Summer's reflection slowly appear in the glass, followed by the gentle touch of her lips to his jaw as her hand came to rest on his shoulder. He turned slightly, turning towards her as she said quietly, "I'm gonna go get David ready for bed. See you after?"

He nodded, closing his eyes briefly when she kissed his lips and then returning her slight smile before she left him there once more, this time alone.

The music, the city, the memories, the present - it was all undeniably abnormal, but it was becoming his normal. Remembering the woman he'd loved all those years ago hadn't merely brought a sadness and a sense of grief, but it had given him another piece of himself that had unlocked more memories in the last week. They came in dreams or in conversations or from nothing at all, and though he feared that they'd stop and leave him at another brick wall that it would take months to scale, this was the first time that he had real hope that he may eventually get all of his memories back in time. Just like Steve had always told him.

And also like Steve had mentioned a few times, he finally understood why making new memories was possibly even better than getting back old ones. And that, he knew, was all thanks to the woman who would be knocking on his bedroom door in another hour or so.

He smiled to himself, and while he still didn't smile as easily or broadly as he once had, it no longer felt like the strange thing that it had been upon waking up to his new life.

* * *

On some level, Summer was aware that if a couple was attempting to control their physical urges and hold off on certain things until a yet-to-be determined time, it was probably not the greatest idea to end up in a bed together almost every night. But, as it was, that seemed to happen one way or another each night, and this one was no different.

With David happily snoozing in bed back in her own room, she found herself in Bucky's room, in his bed, under his sheets and giggling as she nearly fell off the bed after unwittingly revealing to him one of her most despised weaknesses: her severe ticklishness.

"Stop! Oh, God, stop!" she choked out through embarrassingly high-pitched laughs, ending up as a ball of sheets and giggles as she indeed took a tumble off the bed in a desperate effort to get away from her almost gleeful attacker. Once she hit the floor, she looked up with a goofy smile still plastered on her face and saw him following her, leaning over the edge of the bed with a grin on his face, and before she could get up and run away, his metal arm shot out and wrapped itself under her shoulders and pulled her back up to the bed like it was the easiest thing in the world.

He dropped her on his lap, and his arm thwarted her escape by locking around her waist and holding her close as she placed her hands on his shoulders and immediately started trying to squirm away. He laughed and quickly assured her, "I'm done, I'm done."

She paused but looked at him skeptically. "I don't trust you."

His smile flickered only momentarily before he said a bit more seriously, "No, I mean it. I'm done."

She studied him a moment before deciding to accept that, nodding and saying, "Okay, because I kind of hate being tickled. Just because I'm laughing doesn't mean I like it."

"Fair enough," he replied, right hand busying itself with straightening out her hair that had gotten a bit tangled during the assault. "So tell me what you do like."

While her cheeks returned to their nearly default state of being uncomfortably flushed, she smiled and looked down because after all of this time, his eye contact was still too much sometimes, somehow especially when it was playful. "You probably know the answers to that by now."

"Not as many as I'd like to," he murmured, gathering her hair into his hand and away from her neck so he could kiss her there.

"Well... there's one," she sighed, lacing her fingers through his hair and letting her eyes flutter shut for a moment as shivers shot down her spine at the touch. Then he hummed lowly against her skin and suddenly she was on her back, underneath him, laughing a little at the sudden change just before he grinned back and then kissed her soundly.

It always seemed to come back to this, she thought with the small part of her brain that still managed to function when he kissed her like that. Some nights were more frustrating than others, but each passing one would bring her one mental step closer to being ready for more. She wasn't sure how much longer she could hold out, and she thought Bucky deserved a medal for his own self-control. A medal and... other things.

He seemed to always stop himself just as he was on the cusp of getting carried away, and this time was no different. He broke away from their long kiss to lean his forehead near her temple, breathing deep to steady himself, and she pulled away by just an inch or two to look at him as her fingers continued their trek through his hair. He looked up at her when she did, and with a small smile on her face, she said quietly, "You seem... different."

"Different?" he asked, slight concern coloring his lazily desirous expression.

"Good different," she quickly clarified. "Like you're more... I don't know... here. More... you. Even though I didn't know you then, it just seems more like what I imagined, I guess." Then she paused and added a little cautiously, "Maybe a little happier."

"Happy" had never been an adjective she'd use to describe him before, and it still wasn't, exactly. But "happier" seemed to fit the bill quite well. She watched his brows furrow slightly at her word choice, as if he thought the word was as odd as she did, but then his features softened and he suddenly looked very contemplative, and similar to the way that he did whenever he was trying to gather his words to express something that wasn't particularly easy.

Whatever was going through his head, she didn't need to hear the words to know how enormous of a thing it was for him to have gotten a significant chunk of his memories back. She loved to see him like this, just a bit more self-possessed and confident, and it brought a happiness to her own mind to watch him make such progress. He'd come a long way from where he'd been when she had first found him, and for that matter, so had she.

She kissed him before she could find out what he'd been trying so hard to express, and she could tell how instantly relieved he was. He shifted to his side and she followed him there, hand on the stubble of his cheek as she pressed closer to him and then smiled into the kiss when his hand wandered to her leg and pulled it over his hip to give him the leverage to pull her on top of him as he rolled to his back.

From there, it was a familiar dance and struggle that she didn't think she'd ever get fully used to. Rather than being accustomed to it, she only grew more and more stunned and exquisitely frustrated by the way that he touched her, kissed her, and let his hands tease and explore both over and under her clothes that a growing part of her wished he'd just rip to shreds. As much as she wished for that, however, she couldn't be more grateful for the fact that she knew he wouldn't until the day came when they'd both decide that they were ready. His respect for her might have been one of the single most alluring things about him.

Between the heat of his kiss and the dizzying contrast of the warm flesh and cold metal of his hands currently running up her back underneath her shirt, she was almost too far gone already to register the numbers on the digital clock directly in front of her line of sight to the left when her eyes opened for a moment. But then she did a double take and groaned almost instantly, "Oh my gosh, it's late."

The hour didn't matter much to Bucky, who merely pulled her back down to him and kissed her enough to nearly make her forget what she'd been saying in the first place, but she had an early day the next morning. She waited until he stopped to take a breath and then smiled, "I have to wake up in like six hours."

He growled slightly in annoyance and kissed her again, but his arms around her loosened a bit in defeat. "Sorry," she said quietly, kissing him lightly one more time before pulling back to smile at him. "After tomorrow I've got two days off."

He nodded, and she pretended that she couldn't feel how frustrated she was as she slowly got off of him and moved her legs off of the bed. But as soon as her feet hit the floor, there was an arm around her waist again and lips at her ear as he said quietly, "You could sleep here."

"Yeah," she said a little shakily as he kissed under her ear, "except we'd just do this all night instead of sleeping."

"Not all night," he countered.

"Close enough," she chuckled, forcing herself to slip away from him and get to her feet. Then she glanced back at him sitting there with his ruffled hair and darkened eyes that were glued to her, and she almost gave in until she remembered the fact that she hadn't gotten a full night's sleep in days due to this very reason.

She grabbed her phone from his nightstand and then glanced at him one more time, finding him equal parts adorable and maddeningly sexy with his unhappy expression. She walked the few steps to him and leaned down to kiss him one more time, and he took the opportunity to try to pull her back into the bed, which made her giggle as she resisted.

"I've gotta go," she half whined, trying to pry his arm off of her waist.

"Not if you don't want to," he argued, lips an inch away from hers.

"Yes I do," she pointed out with a smile. "Now goodnight."

He made a noise of protest and then pulled her closer, kissing her while she giggled and half-heartedly tried to pull away. "Goodnight," she repeated, almost sing-song as she successfully pried his hands off and then managed to stand up for a full second before he pulled her back down and made her laugh again.

They went back and forth for another moment or two before Bucky finally conceded defeat, which she showed her appreciation for with one last kiss, more lingering than the others. Then she smiled after she pulled away, her tone slightly goofy as she pecked his cheek and said, "Now, for the last time, goodnight. I love you. I'll see you in the morning."

Still smiling, she stood up, and this time, he let her go without a hint of a protest. She didn't really register the sudden blankness that fell on his face, mistaking it instead for resignation at her leaving, and she gave him one more smile before leaving the room while she still could. All the while, she was completely unaware of the way in which he stared after her with a mixture of shock and slight confusion on his face.

After, she went to her room and went about her usual routine without a second thought, changing clothes, brushing her teeth, and putting her hair back in a ponytail before dragging herself off to bed, grimacing a little when she checked the time again and hoping she would fall asleep almost immediately upon hitting the bed.

Still blissfully oblivious, she turned off the light and crawled under the covers, sighing heavily and turning on her side as she closed her eyes resolutely, willing herself to go to sleep and make the most out of the five and a half hours she had before she had to get up.

It was just as she entered the state between sleep and wakefulness that what she said back in Bucky's room suddenly hit her with all of the force of a bucket of ice to her face.

Her eyes flew open and her jaw dropped as she suddenly sat up as if out of a dream, gasping almost comically noisy as she exclaimed as loudly as one could in a whisper meant to not awaken a child, "Oh my God!"

Fighting the urge to turn into a literal tomato and then die of embarrassment at her own weirdness and not-ideal, accidental proclamations of love that she wasn't even fully aware of, she then collapsed back on to the bed with a noisy, mortified groan. She covered her face with her hands and instantly knew she definitely wouldn't be getting any sleep tonight, because now she suddenly had a whole lot more to think about than she'd had a few minutes ago.

Letting her hands flop limply beside her head on the pillow, she opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling, wondering how she could keep thinking to herself that she didn't know if she was in love with him or not when the words had felt so natural coming out of her mouth that it had taken her about a full twenty minutes before she realized that she'd even said them.

Now Bucky's expression as she'd left his room made perfect sense.

She cringed and covered her face again. This is not how these things should go, or at least that's what she thought. He had to think that she was a complete and utter freak. Who else would just blurt out something like that like she was mentioning the state of the weather outside?

And now she had to figure out how to act around him the next day. Should she mention it, or just keep it to herself and act like she never said anything? What if she freaked him out and now he would pull away because it was too much too soon? Granted, it didn't feel even slightly too soon, but still...

And that was how she spent the rest of the night, overthinking and hovering on the edge of full-blown panic rather than sleeping, dreading the following day and all of the nightmarish scenarios she expected to result from her unexpected verbal confession of love.

She should have just stayed in his room like he'd suggested, because at least then, she probably would have been too busy doing other things to blurt out the words currently rattling around her brain like a waking nightmare.

She groaned and turned over face-first into her pillow, groaning pathetically and giving up all hope of ever even resembling a normal human being. Meanwhile, in his room, Bucky still sat in the exact same position that she'd left him in, still staring ahead and barely blinking, infinitely confused and for once overthinking nearly enough to rival Summer herself.

**A/N: first and foremost, my deepest thanks to midnightwings96, who has lent her help to this and future dancing scenes and made them so much better than I originally had that it is ridiculous. Dancing is harder for me to write decently than fight scenes, and that's saying something, so extra thanks to her for being amazing :D also, my usual thanks and love to the readers, reviewers, and followers, you're all the best and your feedback continues to make my day. Eventually here soon-ish we're gonna catch up with my stash of chapters, and updates may come a little slower than they have been, but I'll try to keep up with the once-weekly thing once we get there. Anywho, I shall see you all next week, and thanks once again for continuing to be amazing :D**


	14. Chapter 14

After not sleeping a wink for most of the night, Summer got herself and David up and ready for the day in impressive record time. She would have been proud if not for the fact that her cowardice was the reason for her quick and efficient morning.

No closer to figuring out how to handle the accidental "I love you" debacle of the night before, she opted for avoiding Bucky at all costs until she managed to gain some courage and figure out how to deal with it. Which meant that she might be avoiding him until the next Ice Age rolled around, but that was nether here nor there.

After dropping David off at the tower's highly convenient daycare, she went about her work day and did everything in her power to stay focused on her work and stop obsessing about what to say and how to say it once she eventually had to face Bucky. Naturally, however, she thought of nothing but that.

After picking up a dress for the CEO herself from the cleaners, Summer threw herself and her cargo into a cab and then yanked out her phone, absolutely positive that she was gonna lose it unless she vented to someone. And finally, after such a long time of having to keep secrets from him, she was able to do just that with her brother. If he answered. Luckily, he did.

"Hey, good timing, I'm between patients," he said cheerfully after picking up. She sighed and sank back against the worn cushion behind her.

"Thank goodness. I'm gonna lose it. I'm gonna find a beach and start running around on it yelling 'tick tock, tick tock'."

"Well, that doesn't sound good. What's got you going all 'Catching Fire'?"

"First of all, you have to promise that you won't make fun of me. Or judge me."

"... I cannot, in good conscience, agree to either condition."

She sighed. "Seriously, you're going to laugh at me so hard."

"Wouldn't be the first time. Now spill. I'm busy saving lives over here."

She paused, drawing a breath and deciding to just blurt it all out. "So last night I was telling B-, uh, you know who, goodnight, and I just randomly said 'I love you' out of nowhere and now I'm kind of hiding from him because I feel like an idiot and I'm pretty sure I freaked him out."

There was silence on the other end for a few seconds that dragged on forever. Then there was hearty laughter that made Summer roll her eyes and drag her hand over her face.

"Okay," he said upon controlling his laughter, "all right, first of all - that is hilarious - but what did he do?"

"... Stared at me and kind of... did nothing," she replied. "He looked kind of shocked, but I didn't even realize what I said until after I went back to my room."

"Of course you didn't," Paul chuckled. "Okay, so what else?"

She stared blankly ahead and then answered, "Uh, that's it."

"You're tick tocking over that?"

"Well, yes."

"That is not worth tick tocking over. Frankly, you're dishonoring the memory of a tribute now."

"Ugh!" she half-growled in frustration, "I'm trying to vent to you! Can you stop being annoying for five minutes?"

"Fine! Whatever. Okay, so how can I help?"

She paused then and sighed a little. "Tell me I'm stupid for hiding and to grow a pair and face him and explain."

"Okay. Do that. Out of curiosity though, how do you plan on explaining that?"

She groaned. "I don't know."

"Well, do you?"

"Do I what?"

"Love him, duh."

"I don't know!" she instantly replied, more of a gut reaction than a real answer. "I mean, how would I?"

Paul was silent for another few seconds. Then he said, "All right, you've gotta be able to hear for yourself how full of crap you are."

"I'm not -"

"Hey, quiet time. You're full of crap, and you know why? Because look at you right now and how you've changed your life to be with him. As deprived of male attention as you were, I don't think you'd do all this just to get to make out with a creepy ex - er, Voldemort," he said, quickly remembering their code name for Bucky. "Also, you look at him like you're some chick from a Nicholas Sparks novel, and it's disgusting."

She wrinkled her nose a bit, torn between being offended and being amused. "Don't tell me that. That _is_ disgusting."

"Yeah, because I don't mean one of the good ones like the Notebook."

"I hate the Notebook."

"Because you have no soul and a black dead heart," he retorted. "Anyway. Yeah. You've got it bad for him. Pretty obvious. And disgusting."

She sighed and leaned her head back against the seat. "What should I do? Should I just act like it didn't happen?"

"Sure, because that always turns out great never."

She groaned. "Then what do I do?"

"Take your own suggestion and grow a pair and explain it to him," he answered. "And then give him your creepy horny look and be disgusting and never, ever tell me about what happens next. Ever."

"My what?" she half-exclaimed. Why was everyone else but her aware of this supposed look?

"I gotta go. Duty calls."

"Wait!" she protested. "I don't want to mess anything up! What if it's too soon? What if I freaked him out and now he's gonna run away?"

"Well, then let him, because that would be ridiculous," Paul replied. "Now seriously, I gotta go. Literally running to a code right now."

"Fine," she grumbled. "Go save lives while I slam my head against the wall."

"Will do. Bye kiddo."

She muttered a half-hearted goodbye and then hung up, knowing that he was right. She just needed to see Bucky later, address the issue, and then move on. Move way on, so far on that they could forget that it ever happened, so that maybe someday they could have a proper first "I love you" and not some weird automatic thing blurted out from nowhere.

Yes. That was totally the thing to do.

She spent the rest of her day working and psyching herself up for what she was darkly referring to in her head as "the talk", knowing full well that she was making too much out of it. She had mentally rehearsed her speech to him about twenty different times when it reached the late afternoon, about half an hour from when she was off, which was when her phone buzzed with a text from Bucky.

After panicking inexplicably for a minute, she opened the text and read, _Out with_ _Steve for awhile. Be back later_.

Of course.

On the bright side, she figured, now she had even more time to psych her herself up. On the not-so-bright side, she sort of wanted to throw up, and she could really use a chill pill or two.

* * *

"So, she just... said it and then... left?"

Bucky nodded, hands in the pockets of his coats as he and Steve walked incognito down the slightly darkened city streets. He'd been going over that moment from the previous night over and over throughout nearly the whole day, including that morning with Dr. Connor, and he was still not sure as to what to do about it. "Yeah. I don't think she even knew that she said it."

"How's she acted today?"

"Couldn't say. I haven't seen her."

"Ah. So she probably did realize it afterwards."

"And she's avoiding me," Bucky agreed. Though, if that was the case, she probably thought that he was avoiding her now, since he'd left the tower almost right when she'd gotten off of work. But that wasn't his intention. He and Steve simply had a much easier time walking the streets with the under the cover of night.

"You should probably talk to her when we get back," Steve said, stating the obvious.

"Neither of us are that great at talking," Bucky admitted, glancing across the street and around them as a matter of habit.

"Pretty sure talking's kind of an important part of a relationship," Steve said with a slight smile. "At least that's what they say on all the daytime talk shows. 'Communication'."

Bucky gave him a sidelong look. "You watch that trash?"

"Not... regularly," Steve shrugged. "Anyway. You'll just have to push through it. And now might be a good time to tell her how you feel."

Bucky kept his eyes to the ground this time as he muttered, "Now you sound like that quack."

"Who you keep seeing even though you think he's a quack."

"Because that's what he is," Bucky shrugged.

"So what did he say?"

Rolling his eyes slightly, Bucky answered, "That communication is the most important part of a relationship."

Steve laughed. "See? I told you."

"But if she didn't mean to say it and then I say it, it could really... I don't know. Make things weird."

"That's not really something a person doesn't mean to say," Steve theorized. "I mean, even if you don't mean to say it but you say it, you're still doing it for a reason. I wouldn't accidentally tell Tony Stark that I love him, for example."

"But still, if she wasn't ready to," Bucky sighed, "I just don't want to mess anything up."

"Well, the longer you wait to deal with it, the worse you're both gonna make it," Steve replied. "So if I were you, I'd talk it out as soon as we get back."

There was silence for a few minutes, and then Bucky said, "Taking advice from you about girls is never gonna feel right."

"I know, but trust me, I'm enjoying it."

Bucky rolled his eyes, and silently, they kept walking. There weren't many folks out tonight, and the streets passing by were starting to feel a bit more familiar than the others. A few times, he looked up and expected to see a small theater or a shop or some other establishment, only to see something else. He wasn't sure if he was remembering wrong or if it was just how the landscape had changed in the last seven decades.

"You sure you want to do this?" Steve asked, breaking the silence. "We could still go back."

Bucky shook his head. "No. I want to."

"All right."

After a few more moments, they walked past a few more familiar places, one of which Bucky recognized as a church that hadn't changed in the slightest since his younger days. Street lights and lights in the windows of open shops and other buildings lit up the street, and though the area had gotten rougher and dingier than he remembered it, for the first time, walking these streets made him feel like he really was somewhere that he knew. It wasn't home - not anymore - but he knew that it had once been, and it finally felt that way.

When they reached the point of their trip across town into Brooklyn, which was a small gated field somewhat near another church that Bucky recognized, he did feel a last-minute sense of hesitation come over him. It was as they rounded a sidewalk and Steve reached to pull open the gate that he stopped for a moment, doubting that this was going to do any good.

But, he'd been avoiding this place for months now. Whether it helped or not, it seemed like the right time to come, especially now that he was starting to remember more.

Steve glanced at him one more time before pulling open the gate, and with Bucky's initial hesitation having passed, he stepped through the gate and then glanced out at the rows and rows of grave markers that were spread out before him. Somewhere, amidst all the headstones, laid the remains of the family that he could barely remember.

"You've been here before?" Bucky asked when Steve was back at his side, walking slightly ahead of him and seeming to know where he was going.

"Yeah. Not long after they found me, actually."

"Why?" Bucky asked, watching where he stepped as he followed Steve down a path through the middle section of the graves.

"Well, you might not remember it yet, but your parents loved me," Steve replied. "Especially your mom. They helped out a lot after my folks died. And so did you."

Bucky nodded once, still watching his steps and for once not feeling quite so angry at being unable to remember. The last week or two had gone a long way in boosting his hopes that he would, eventually, remember all of the old days. It was why he was here in the first place.

"They're right around here. A little further down, I think..."

Bucky followed Steve silently, until he came to a halt and then shifted to face three almost identical looking gravestones. There was enough light from nearby street lamps for Bucky to just make out the names of his mother, father, and sister on the stones.

He read through the words and dates on each of the markers, realizing something when he reached that of his sister. "So they outlived both of their kids."

Even though in his case, that was technically inaccurate, to his parents, it had been very much true. Steve nodded and said sadly, "Yeah. It's terrible. They were two of the best people I knew."

It wasn't the first time he'd felt a fleeting bite of jealousy towards Steve simply for his ability to remember the history that he couldn't. How much easier it would have been to just crash into the ice and then wake up decades later, rather than barely escape death just to be a puppet on the strings of maniacs.

Although, even if that had been the case, he still would have woken up to these same three gravestones. His family would still be dead, and he would still be here, trying to figure out what to do now that he was alive in a time he'd never been meant for.

"In a way, it's better that they thought you died in the war," Steve said quietly. "If they'd known..." he shook his head. "They didn't need that kind of pain."

As he stared at the gravestones, something occurred to him a few minutes later. "Do I have one of these?"

Steve nodded again. "Not a real grave, of course, but a memorial in D.C.. It's where the rest of the guys were buried. I had one too."

"I guess they can get rid of those now."

"Yeah," Steve said with a slight chuckle. "Couple years later though and mine's still there. Kind of weird. Maybe that's where HYDRA planned on putting me once they were done with me."

"You mean once I killed you."

"Yeah. That."

Then there was silence for a few moments, where Bucky continued to stare at the graves of his family while trying pull at the threads of his memory. He'd had a few glimpses of his mother and sister, and he was pretty sure he'd seen a flash of a man he assumed was his father taking him out on a canoe to teach him to fish, but he hadn't recovered much more. Seeing the graves wasn't helping to tug at those threads, but it did help cement those three people as folks who truly had lived and weren't just figments of imagination that he'd been told about by somebody else. With their names and the days of their lives etched into stone and memorialized, it made them seem all the more real, if only in the abstract sense.

It also solidified the fact that what was left of his family was himself and little else. There were perhaps distant cousins he could try to track down, but that wasn't the point. In reality, all the family that he had was standing next to him, appreciating the memory of his parents and sister better than Bucky himself could.

He could choose to be angry about this, about the lack of a family and the injustice of what had been done to him by his captors, and he was. He didn't anticipate ever not being angry. But he could also be appreciative and thankful of having Steve, who had somehow managed to survive it all - and him - to still be standing next to him and giving him help that he didn't deserve.

Steve didn't have a family either. Or a home. They were in the same boat, Bucky suddenly realized on a level that he had not before. It seemed to be a bit of a lopsided boat, though - like Bucky's end had sprung a leak (or many) that had Steve working constantly to keep the water from filling the whole thing. He didn't feel like he was pulling his own weight very well, if at all. In fact, he was rather useless.

But that didn't seem to matter much to Steve, who gave his shoulder a pat as he smiled a bit weakly at him. "Just me and you now."

Bucky thought for a moment on how to respond, and ended up deadpanning, "Sorry."

Steve chuckled, clearly taking it as a joke, and Bucky honestly wasn't sure if it was or not. "You're not so bad. At least after you've had your coffee in the morning."

Steve wasn't the only one who seemed to think so, not that Bucky was any closer to understanding why. But he'd figured out that it was best to not question it. Questioning led to thoughts he didn't want and didn't do anyone any good.

"You'll remember them more one day," Steve said after awhile, confidently. "And it'll be good memories. Except for the time Rebecca drew all over this signed baseball you were extremely proud of."

It wasn't an even vaguely familiar story, but Bucky was curious now. "How did that turn out?"

"You took her favorite doll and set it on fire. She was five."

Bucky raised his eyebrows and gathered, "So I really was a jerk."

"Pretty much."

Nonetheless, he figured, it was better to be a jerk than what he'd once been told he was.

* * *

While Bucky and Steve were out doing who knows what at who knows where, Summer was hiding in her room to keep away from a drinking party happening in the living room. She'd walked out with David to get them both leftovers from the day before's dinner to find Natasha, Sam, Tony Stark and the ever-blindingly pretty Thor, along with some brunette lady she didn't recognize, all sitting around playing some kind of drinking game. The problem was, Stark had the foot parts of an Iron Man suit on, and Thor was sending his hammer across the room and then back into his hand like he was playing with a rubber ball, and it was a safe assumption, she thought, that drunken destruction was imminent. Hence, hiding.

But, she couldn't hide forever, and the night was growing later. David would need a drink for bed soon, and that would mean venturing out among the drunk and pretty Avengers once more. Stark had invited her to drink with them, saying she needed it considering who she was - or was not - "boning", but she quickly refused with a line about "not drinking while parenting", and then scuttled out of there before Thor's friendly smile could make scientific history by turning her into a literal cup of Jell-o.

Also, there was something intimidating about being around those particular people without the buffer of Steve or Bucky. Without them, the closest thing she had to a buffer was Natasha, and she was about as anti-buffer as it got. There was Sam, but surprisingly, she had spoken more to Natasha overall than she had to him, which she was pretty sure made no sense, because he was a lot nicer.

But, she had braved worse for her son before. She could handle a few drunk Avengers for the sake of getting him some chocolate milk.

After putting it off as long as possible, she took a break from overthinking and dreading Bucky's upcoming arrival, whenever that would be, to slip quietly out into the hallway and quickly make her way towards the kitchen. She heard a lot of laughter ahead and the sound of glasses clinking, but nothing had blown up yet, so that was good.

She managed to step out of the hallway and into the kitchen without gaining the attention of anyone, and trying to be fast and silent about it, she grabbed a cup from a cabinet and then headed to the pantry to look for the chocolate milk mix.

Meanwhile, Tony Stark was impressively, hilariously, drunk.

"No, no, no, no, no, I'm not - no, I'm not saying that. I'm saying that, if I had to pick a dude to bang -"

"Anthony, no!" Thor bellowed in protest. "I do not want to know!"

"What? Whoa, wait a minute, you did not just call me Anthony -"

Summer could hear the eye-roll in Natasha's tone as she failed to find the drink mix where she'd last left it. "Calm down, Anthony."

"Ohhh, okay, sure thing, Miss Natalia Alley Way Supernova Roman's-A-Jerkoff."

Even Summer paused her desperate search upon hearing that one.

"Could you say that again?" Sam asked.

"Original," Natasha deadpanned.

"I am confused," Thor announced.

"Don't be," Natasha replied. "If anyone's confused about my name, just put your ear to Steve's door at night and you'll hear it more than you ever wanted to."

Upon the resulting chorus of "Ohhhh!"s that her comment wrought, Summer hid a burst of laughter and made a mental note to never put her ear to Steve's door, ever. Also, the chocolate milk mix had disappeared into a cosmic black hole. She dropped down into a kneeling position in front of the pantry to search the bottom shelf, just in case.

"All right, I need a drink after that one," Stark muttered, and Summer heard what sounded like some kind of electrical burst followed by Sam's startled cry of "Don't drink and fly, man!"

She realized her poor positioning all too late. The pantry was quite close to the liquor cabinet, which was where the very drunk Tony was flying - poorly - to, with only the help of what was maybe an eighth of a suit. In any case, when she heard the propulsion sounds right over her head, she looked up to see the tower's owner hovering casually and a bit shakily near said liquor cabinet, unaware of her presence. She watched as he grabbed a bottle of something, fought with the lid, and then almost fell over as he took a long drink of it before jerking around to head back to the living room. Unfortunately, the sharp turn made some of the liquor splash out of the bottle and land directly on top of Summer's head, which made her squeal, which in turn made him notice her.

"Summer!" He slurred upon noticing her now sitting on the floor, patting her now-wet hair. "Come to join us yet?"

She looked up at him incredulously, not even sure of what sort of liquor she'd gotten a small shower with, and replied, "Uh, no."

"Your loss. Cheers," he said, raising the bottle in a mock-toast, but he did it too hard, and she got another shower, which soaked her hair some more. Then he flew off, crashed into the island and broke off a piece of it, laughed hysterically, and then somehow ended up back on the couch.

Standing up and grimacing at the state and smell of her hair, Summer growled a little and then decided David would be getting plain milk tonight just as she looked up and realized that the mix had been sitting at the front of the top shelf, staring at her, the entire time. Of course.

"Anyway, so back to what I was saying - if I had to either pick a dude to bang or get a bullet to the head, I would totally pick -"

Summer never got to find out the answer to that, because she had finally returned to her room with the elusive chocolate milk and a head that smelled like whiskey. Once the lights were off and David was settled in bed - after taking a sniff of her and acting like he'd never smelled anything so vile in all his five years - she headed to the bathroom to take a shower so that she could have "the talk" with Bucky without looking like she'd fallen headfirst into the world's biggest shot glass.

Luck was not on her side, however, nor even on her side of the universe, apparently, because when she went to turn on the shower, the knob fell off of the wall and sat uselessly in her hand. She'd thought that it felt weirdly loose the last few times that she'd used it, but she'd figured it was nothing. And now she didn't have a shower until it could be fixed.

Perfect.

Back in her bedroom, she sat and weighed her options while David fell asleep. She could try to wash her hair in the sink, but that would be miserable given how long her hair had gotten in the last year. She could ask one of the drunk Avengers if she could borrow their bathroom for a few minutes. Or she could go use Bucky's shower without having to talk to anyone or embarrass herself further.

The choice was clear. Deciding to get it over with as quickly as possible lest he came home to find her in his shower and make her have to explain while inwardly panicking at a whole new level about the "talk", she grabbed the needed supplies from her bathroom and then dashed quietly to his room.

It took about three washes of her hair to get the scent of alcohol out of it, but she eventually managed to make it work while mentally rushing herself to hurry up and get out of there. Once she was done, she flipped the water off and then jumped out of the shower, quickly realizing that she had forgotten to bring a change of clothes with her, which was just typical. Rolling her eyes at herself, she threw a towel on and then made her way to the sink, where she cleared out a circle on the mirror and then started rummaging around for something to brush her hair with.

In the process, she knocked over a toothbrush holder that sat on the counter, and the resulting louder-than-expected sound made her cringe before she set the thing back upright and resumed her quest for a comb. But, once she located the comb, she didn't get a chance to use it, because the door flew open and she was pinned to the wall by a metal arm against her throat before she could so much as choke out a "holy crap".

She did manage a half-scream, though, and after colliding with the wall hard enough to cause a burst of real pain in the back of her head, her eyes opened and she watched realization dawn on the previously hardened, determined face of her attacker.

"Summer?"

His arm quickly eased off of her neck and she pushed him away a little more harshly than she meant to, but given the circumstances, she was pretty sure he deserved it. "What the hell, Bucky?!"

* * *

He took a step back, confusion coloring his blue eyes as he looked her over - wet and wearing just a towel, which had managed to remain wrapped around her despite the jostling he'd just given her - and several questions tried to fly out of his mouth at once. "Why are you in here?"

"My shower broke," she replied, hand rubbing gently over the part of her neck where his arm had been. He noticed how she quickly looked him over, how his shirt was fully unbuttoned due to how he'd been in the process of changing before he'd heard a crash in his bathroom and immediately assumed whoever was in there had been sent to kill him.

Old habits died hard, he supposed.

"I'm sorry," he said, blinking and stepping closer to touch her neck apologetically and make sure he hadn't truly hurt her. "Did I hurt you?"

"... No," she shook her head, though her tone left him unconvinced. "I'm fine, but... remind me to never try to surprise you in the future."

"Is that what you were doing?"

"No, actually, I was just trying to get the whiskey out of my hair."

He furrowed his brows. "Whiskey?"

She rolled her eyes. "Long story... Tony Stark."

Oddly enough, that actually was a sufficient explanation.

"Where have you been all night?" she asked, fiddling somewhat nervously with where the towel was tucked in just above her chest.

"Cemetery," he replied, causing her brow to shoot up just slightly, probably at the mental image of him prowling around graves in the dark of night. "My family."

"Oh," she said, expression growing quickly more somber. "I'm sorry. How did that go?"

He shrugged. "It was okay."

She nodded again, and suddenly, he remembered what he'd planned on doing with this portion of the night - talking to her about last night's "incident". He got the feeling that she had just remembered as well, because she grew visibly more nervous and started fidgeting with her fingers before muttering, "Uh, well, I forgot to bring new clothes with me, so I'll just... go..."

She glanced again at his open shirt and chest underneath before moving off of the wall and creeping past him, out of the bathroom, but he wasn't ready for her to go yet, and it wasn't just because he saw no logical reason for her to be any more dressed than she was at the current moment. He'd spent the whole trip back to the tower working up his nerve, and if she left now, even for a few minutes, he feared he'd lose it and have to start all over again.

"Summer," he said, following her out of the bathroom and quickly catching up with her to gently grab her arm. "Wait."

She stopped and turned around, and he knew that she was thinking about the same thing that he was by the way that she looked at him a bit uneasily.

He wasn't sure what to say or how to start, but after a few seconds, he asked a question that he already knew the answer to. "Why've you been avoiding me all day?"

Her face flushed and fell at the same moment, and he let go of her arm as she anxiously scratched at the back of her head. "I haven't been, I've just been... busy... today. And you were gone when I got off work."

Her hand was unnecessarily holding on to the towel at the corner on her chest, clutching it tighter the more nervous she got. He gave her a look and said, "Summer..."

"Okay fine," she sighed heavily, raising her free arm and then dropping it. "I've been freaking out. Look, you already know I'm not exactly good with these kinds of talks, especially when I've had all last night and today to overthink it and freak out even more."

And now his anxiety began creeping up to levels that rivaled hers. Whatever came tumbling awkwardly out of her mouth within the next few moments would tell him the truth, if she'd meant what she said or not, and all he could do was stare at her and wait while his heart started pounding.

"I mean, like, give me a piece of paper and a pen and I'm good, but then my verbal skills are like... I'm about as good at that as you are at cooking. Take right now, for instance - listen to me, I sound like a freaking..."

"Summer."

"Right." She took a deep breath and then sighed it out, smoothing her wet hair away from her face and muttering, "You probably think I'm a total freak. About last night - I honestly did not mean to do that, and I didn't even know that I said it until after I went to bed."

And just like that, his hopes that he hadn't even realized had been built up crashed down spectacularly, and his shock at how disappointed he was nearly took his breath away. He started nodding, jaw clenching without his permission, and he couldn't quite bring himself to look her in the eye.

"But you know me and how I just... blurt things out, because I'm weird, and... Bucky?"

He looked up at her then, still nodding though only slightly, and he muttered, "So you didn't mean it."

And then he watched it dawn on her how disappointed he was that that was the case. Her eyes went from confused to understanding to horrified in a matter of seconds.

He just wanted to forget this had ever happened and go sit alone somewhere for awhile.

"No!" she finally said, the horror on her face equally evident in her tone. "Oh my gosh, no, that's not what I meant!"

But he was already turning around, though he wasn't sure where he planned on going. Then it was her turn to grab his arm and stop him.

"Bucky, wait," she insisted, and he let her turn him around. "Let me explain."

He didn't particularly want to, but he gave in anyway and waited for her to start talking. She let go of his arm and went back to clutching the corner of the towel as she started searching for the right words.

"I didn't mean to say it, but that doesn't mean I didn't mean it. What I was trying to say was, I didn't mean to say it for the first time in such a... random and weird way."

He stared at her, searching her features for any indications that she was trying to placate him or simply tell him what he wanted to hear. But to his surprise, he couldn't find any such tells. All he saw, to his shock, was... sincerity.

"Because it's kind of a big deal, you know, and not something you usually... blurt out like you're talking about the weather or something," she added, tone growing quieter as she looked down and away from his eyes.

"So... you meant it," he said, face and voice the picture of sobriety and seriousness. His finger tipped up her chin to make her look at him as he waited for her answer.

"Yes," she finally said. And the way that she said that word, even he couldn't find a way to poke any holes of doubt within it.

"You love me," he said, looking for one last bit of confirmation.

"I love you," she nodded, a small smile on her lips as she said the words, and the last of his doubts vanished.

He closed his eyes for a fraction of a second under the sheer relief of those words, and when he opened them and saw the way that she was smiling at him, he couldn't help but smile back, even more broadly that she was. He couldn't remember the last time he'd smiled like that, and it felt a little odd, but a much more overwhelming and important feeling made it also feel right.

There was nothing in his memories to match what he felt, nothing that truly measured up or could compete, and there was no denying it or questioning it. He didn't deserve her, but he had her, and somehow, she loved him - really loved him - and what else could he do but smile?

Her eyes softened as she watched him, but he saw a lingering bit of anxiety there too, which he suspected would not leave until he'd spoken the words himself.

First, though, he had to kiss her.

* * *

It was official: his smile was the best thing on the planet.

After he stopped her heart with that almost youthful, possibly even joyous smile of his, he stopped it again with a fast but deep kiss that left her head spinning. Suddenly, she couldn't believe how silly she'd been for dreading this moment and losing sleep over it when it had turned out absolutely perfect.

And now that she had said the words to him out loud, it was even harder to believe that she'd doubted for a minute if she really did love him. Experienced in love or not, it didn't matter - she knew it now, on a level that surpassed her tendency to doubt and think too much.

When he broke away from the kiss, she looked up at him a little dazed, nearly spellbound by how happy he looked. The idea that she was the cause of it made her heart feel like it was about to burst.

And then, she opened her mouth and lived up to her tradition of ruining the moment.

"You don't have to say it back," she quickly assured him, her face still cradled in his hands while hers were clutching the collar of his shirt. "No pressure. Especially after you just remembered the girl you were with before, I understand if -"

"Summer," he interrupted with a quirk of his lips, but she kept right on going.

"I mean, because she was like, whoa, you know, and the last thing that I want is for you to think that -"

"Summer," he said a little more firmly, physically making her stop talking and look him straight in the eye. "I need to explain something to you."

Unsure of what he was about to say, she kept her mouth clamped shut and waited on pins and needles for him to elaborate.

"The thing is," he began softly, looking down for a moment, "there was a lot I didn't know before I remembered her. And once I did, then I knew." Then he raised his eyes back to hers, with a sudden intensity that made her heart stop. "I did love her. And I still do, I always will. But I was never in love her the way that I'm in love with you."

She stared at him in shock, the words taking a moment to sink and become real. Once they did, she was pretty sure that she'd lost all ability to breathe or think, especially under the weight of his stare, and the result was her opening and closing her mouth a few times before choking out, "Really?"

"I love you," he said, backing her up without taking his eyes off of her.

She could do little more than gape at him like a fish, barely noticing where he was moving her until her back hit the wall next to his dresser. "Really?" she asked again, suddenly pinned in place and momentarily forgetful of her nearly-naked state.

He brought his lips within a breath of hers, just shy of touching, and murmured, "Yes."

She was still too stunned to smile the way that he had, utterly overwhelmed by her own confession and his completely unexpected one that followed. And for him to say that he somehow loved her more than that statuesque beauty from his past... was she dreaming?

"No," she heard him chuckle against her lips, and she realized she'd asked that question out loud. And she was too happy to be embarrassed.

His chuckle inspired a little one of her own, and her hands left his collar to run up his neck before her fingers slid into his hair. His hands were on her hips and he was still keeping his lips just from meeting hers, and for a moment, it was enough just to be that close and revel a little bit in the milestone they'd just reached.

And it was no small feat, she knew, for either of them. Suddenly, it seemed like if they had gotten this far, they could go absolutely anywhere.

And maybe that meant that it was finally time to jump one other particular hurdle, while they had momentum on their side.

She pulled him close, erasing the last inch between them as she pressed her lips to his, somewhat desperately and entirely determinedly. He met her fever and multiplied it, pushing her harder to the wall as his hands suddenly curled around her hips and then picked her up, forcing her legs to curl around his waist as she held on tight with her arms around his neck.

It felt different, less timid, more... honest, somehow, with a level of intimacy that made the idea of just leaving it at a couple of kisses and maybe just a little bit more seem utterly unthinkable. Not after all they'd been through, and not after the progress they'd just made; no, something more was needed, and she was ready to overcome the obstacles that had thus far kept them from reaching that point.

After her hands pushed the shirt off of his back and to the floor, she broke away just long enough to breathe out his name and get his attention. He looked at her with a heat in his eyes that told her he was already on the same page as she was, but she had to say the words and make sure.

"I... I don't think I can wait anymore," she admitted, still in a whisper. "I don't want to wait anymore. I trust you and I... need you."

Though it hardly seemed possible, his gaze became even more heated even as he cautiously and quietly asked, "Are you sure?"

She nodded furiously. "Yes. I'm sure. I know you won't hurt me." When he looked a bit wary - desperate to say yes, but still wary - she tightened her grip on his hair and kissed him once more before pleading, "Bucky, please."

She watched his lips part and body shudder at those words before he gave in with a kiss to put all others to shame, and then she was in his arms as he turned them around and carried her towards his bed. He stopped just when they reached it, setting her down to stand in front of the foot of the bed and tearing his lips away from hers as he looked her over, breathing heavily. That was the moment she started to get nervous again.

She suddenly remembered that she was in just a towel, and that meant going from zero to naked in record time. And even though it wouldn't be the first time he'd seen certain parts of her, it would be the first time he'd be seeing it all together, without a stitch of anything still on her body. And that made it feel significantly different.

But, this was a part of what she'd just sworn to him that she was ready for, and she willed herself to be brave and stop letting nagging fears or pointless insecurities steal the joy of the moment.

And so, she reached up and kissed him, distracting him while one of her hands went between them and untucked the towel, letting it drop over both of their feet. She felt him freeze a little when it did, and he pulled away slowly, looking at her eyes before letting his gaze fall lower. He did it slowly, like he wanted to take his time making this particular new memory, and when he leaned away a few inches for a better look, she almost lost her nerve. But it was impossible to regret her actions when he was staring at her with his mouth open just enough for her to tell how much he appreciated the sight before him, and just like that, her nerve was back and firmly within her grasp.

Her hand going to his belt awoke him out of his stupor, and his eyes snapped back to hers just before he kissed her again, hungrily, while helping her to undress him the rest of the way. It didn't take long, and then it was her turn to feast her eyes, which she did, without an ounce of shame. It was her first time seeing him in all of his... entirety as well, and if there was ever such a thing as perfection, surely it was him. And how the hell did she get lucky enough to end up with him?

She didn't stare quite as long as he did with her, but from the scars of his left shoulder to the defined muscles of his chest and abdomen, down to another equally impressive part of him that she itched to touch, she took it all in and felt her blood all but boil with the realization that tonight, she really was gonna get to finally have all of him.

She almost expected him to tackle her to the bed in a passionate fury, but instead, she felt his hand take hers and his metal arm wrap around her middle as he gently laid her down on the bed. He kissed her as they moved, more slowly than he had before, and when her head hit his pillow, she opened her eyes to look up at him and grin slightly as he did the same. He eased her legs apart so he could lay between them, and she could have moaned just from the feeling of being so close to him, with nothing in the way, both literally and figuratively.

All of his movements picked up speed as he ran kisses from her mouth to her jaw to her neck, and his hands became more exploratory as she tried to do the same with hers, wanting to know what he liked and what would make him shudder against her. She didn't yet know nearly as much as she wanted to, but knowing that she would now be able to learn everything about him and what he liked, over time, almost made her giggle with anticipation. Or maybe it was his excitement for her making its presence very well known against her that was making her want to giggle.

His kisses were growing more desperate and his touches less teasing and more needy by the time that she fully trusted her own readiness - not that she hadn't been ready since he'd first pushed her against the wall, but that was beside the point. She drew him back to her lips and kissed him soundly, one hand slipping into his hair while the other made a pathway down his back. He was trying to hold himself back but she didn't want him to, so she wrapped her legs around his hips and broke the kiss, looking up at him in a way she hoped he'd understand.

His eyes were dilated with a sort of desire she'd never seen before as he shifted them slightly, bringing them so close that all it would take was a slight push to join them, and as she faced the finality of the moment, one last wave of anxiety crashed through her veins.

This would be her real first time, her first time with a man that had been her own choice, and as wholly and completely as she wanted it, she couldn't help but stop and let that last stubborn bit of doubt fly to the forefront of her mind. It must have shown on her face, too, because she felt fingertips gently tip up her chin, and then she was looking up at Bucky as he said sincerely, "I won't hurt you, I promise."

"I know," she quickly replied, trying to push the anxiety away, down into the past where it belonged. "And I trust you, but I'm just..."

"Scared," he said for her before laying a sweet kiss on her lips. "Don't be."

She nodded, closing her eyes as he kissed her again. Then, she murmured quietly, "Can you say it one more time?"

He didn't need to ask to know what she was asking for. He drew away slightly, eyes softer but still on fire as he said, "I love you."

Then she kissed him, and she felt him shudder again when she said the words back to him. Those words and what they meant, especially coming from him, chased away the doubts, and as one last show of how much she trusted him, she ran her hand down his metal arm, from his shoulder to where the palm of his hand was planted on the bed next to her head, and she slid her own palm beneath his and entwined her warm fingers with his cold ones. She watched his eyes flicker to their hands, and something flashed within them that she now finally could recognize for what it was. It was love, and his continuing astonishment at her unwavering acceptance of even the parts of himself that he hated.

Then he was looking in her eyes again, and a second later, kissing her as the moment finally came. Knowing what was about to happen, she tensed a bit, though she didn't mean to, and she held her breath, which she wasn't even aware of. He was aware however, and his forehead pressed against hers as he whispered, "Relax. Keep your eyes on me. Keep breathing."

And though she did as he said, to the best of her ability, she still tensed at the last minute, anticipating at least some of the pain that her memories contained.

But the pain never came. Instead, something much better came in its place, the opposite of pain, and with eyes that she kept fixed on him until she couldn't hold them open anymore, she watched as his own eyes rolled shut and mouth fell open with a shuddering gasp that became a heart-stopping moan by the time it reached her ears. He was utterly beautiful in that moment, and when his gaze met hers again, her hand's grip within his tightened, and for the first time, she was finally able to give herself to him in every way that she'd wanted to for what had felt like an eternity.

It was absolutely worth waiting for. Even if it was over in just under two minutes.

* * *

_Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid. Stupid. Stupid._

Lying on his back, breathing deeply and feeling like seven decades' worth of tension had just fallen from his shoulders - because it had - Bucky found himself falling into a mental pit of self-ridicule and humiliation, despite the fact that he was fairly sure that he'd never felt better in his long, strange life.

But Summer couldn't say the same, he thought, because he was stupid and apparently needed to relearn the art of pacing oneself.

It had been perfect. She had been perfect. Everything had been absolutely perfect, until he ruined it. He wasn't sure if he'd even made it a full minute. All of that buildup, all of the emotions and the love that had made it as amazing as it was, and yet here they were, one of them unsatisfied while the other - him - wanted to sink into the floor and disappear.

He was afraid to even look at her.

She was lying next to him, her head on his chest, and he had an arm thrown over his eyes to keep from seeing the disappointment that he was sure was on her face. Maybe if he just waited a few minutes, he could gather himself and then try again, properly this time, and make up for the dismal first time.

But Summer had other ideas, apparently. He heard her chuckle as she raised her head and ran her hand up his chest. "Hey, you in there?"

Maybe if he just acted like he couldn't hear her...

"Bucky..." she called out lightly, crawling up a bit and then pulling his arm away from his face. He reluctantly allowed his gaze to meet hers, and he was shocked to see a big silly grin on her face. "... You okay?"

"I'm sorry," he said before he could stop himself. "You didn't... I'm sorry."

Realization dawned on her face, and she only smiled more broadly as she pressed a kiss to his lips and then said, "Don't you dare be sorry. That was your first time in forever. You're allowed to... get a little carried away."

He appreciated her understanding, but he still wanted to slam his head into a wall. "You deserved better," he said quietly, his fingertips tracing her jaw.

She gave him a look and then assured him, "It was perfect. And I mean that. I'm not just saying it. You have no idea. Going from the only thing I ever knew to that... it was incredible."

He couldn't not believe her, despite his best efforts to. "And I didn't... hurt you?"

She shook her head. "Not at all."

He brushed her still-damp hair behind her ear and let out a soft breath as he stared at her, deciding to accept that everything was okay and that he could stop beating himself up. He would, however, make up for his trigger-happiness, and extensively, if it was the last thing he did.

"I can't believe it finally happened," she grinned, shifting a bit towards his side and propping her head up on one hand while the other continued its aimless quest along he chest. "Like... wow. It finally happened."

Her grin was contagious. He glanced down and noticed with some disappointment that she'd tugged a sheet up and over herself, which was something he immediately decided to remedy as he moved closer to her, pulling the sheet away with two fingers

"I'm not done with you," he said, pulling her against him and kissing her with the ferocity of his resolve to make up for his initial underperformance. She shivered a little, though she didn't hesitate to mold her body to his and let her leg slip over his hip and wrap around it, and the feeling of her, all of her, pressed to him again as her tongue danced with his was enough to set him alight once more.

Feeling this, she broke away and smiled a bit shyly as she asked, "Is this part of the... super stamina thing?"

Looking down briefly at the sight before him, of her limbs tangled with his and the flush of her cheeks along with the lush, tempting perfection of everything in between, he looked back to her and felt a grin tug at his lips as he replied, "We'll find out."

She returned his grin, though it only lasted a moment before faint moans replaced her chuckles and open-mouthed gasps replaced her smile. He had a lot to make up for and all night to spend learning her and what made her fall apart, and he wasn't going to waste a moment of it.

It was a long night. But, like the long, frustrating wait for it, the lack of sleep was utterly worth it.

**A/N: Soooo... if I could go ahead and take this moment to point out that it took a combined total of 26 chapters to get this particular couple to, erm, do it. Yeah, yeah, I know, so what, right? But for someone whose previous stories almost always began with right-off-the-bat banging and then actual feelings later, it has been GREAT to write the total opposite. Like seriously. The waiting was so much fun that I fell into a brief writing funk once I wrote this because I was sad that that tension wouldn't be there anymore. I still miss it, actually. But anyway, hopefully none of you lovely readers will mind the change :p (judging by the reviews, I doubt many of you will lol). Anywho, my usual thanks and love to all of the readers &amp; reviewers &amp; followers, I know I get repetitive here but I really do love you guys insanely and look forward to all of your feedback, regardless of what it is. I'm updating a day or two early because I'm going to be AWOL (at least from the ability to post chapters here lol) for the next few days, but next week's update will probably be on Sunday or Monday. Love to you all, and see you then :D**


	15. Chapter 15

Sometime in the wee hours of the morning, in the living room of the thirty-sixth floor of Stark Tower, all was quiet for a few moments. Pepper had showed up an hour before to drag away the passed-out drunk Tony, and Sam was also knocked out on the floor, leaving Steve, Natasha, and Thor as the last ones left standing. Alcohol could only do so much to the two men in question, and Natasha sometimes preferred to watch the idiotic drunken antics of others while maintaining only a buzz herself. Thus, the three Avengers were quite awake and sober enough to awkwardly stare at each other while the sounds of a couple in the throes of passion travelled out from the hallway and lingered for them to hear.

Well, Steve and Thor stared awkwardly. Natasha was endlessly amused.

She checked her watch and said, "Sounds like round three has begun."

"Can you not count?" Steve half-begged.

"What? I'm just curious if he breaks your record, that's all."

Steve sighed and then glanced at Thor, who appeared mildly uncomfortable listening to the sounds coming from two people he didn't know very well.

"Besides, I doubt somehow that this is the first time you've had to listen to his..." She squinted, looking up and analyzing the sounds she was hearing before saying, "It's like a mix between a moan and a... growl..."

"That's beside the point," Steve muttered. "And trust me, hearing things wasn't the worst of it."

"What, did you walk in on something?" She grinned.

"Yes, twice," he said in slight irritation. Then a small crash was heard, followed by a feminine laugh that became a moan, and Steve sighed while Thor laughed.

"And?" Natasha prompted.

"And nothing, drop it," Steve replied.

"Oh come on," she protested. "It can't be that bad."

While Steve remained stubbornly quiet, Thor piped up, "Ah, I remember once when my brother burst into my quarters at the wrong time. Actually, I did the same, several times, though I have tried very hard to forget."

"I don't even want to know what kind of bizarre things Loki's into," Natasha replied. "Probably dungeons and masks and gags made of bones."

"Actually, no," Thor shrugged. "Though I did once find him entertaining a lady with three other copies of himself. But that wasn't nearly as surprising as when I found him bound naked to his bed, by magic that even he could not undo, by the only lady that ever truly matched him."

Steve's brows instantly furrowed, likely due to the unwanted mental image, but Natasha straightened a bit in her seat and looked suddenly intrigued. "Oh. Well that's interesting."

Thor nodded and smiled as he said, "Yes, it was very funny. He was so angry I thought his head may explode."

"What kind of lady was this?" Natasha asked. "I picture an Asgardian version of Maleficent or something... not that you know who that is, but..."

"If you mean an evil sorceress," Thor guessed, "no, quite the opposite, actually. She is one of the most remarkable ladies I have ever known. Strong and kind, gifted in many ways. She is one of the most well-known young singers in Asgard, and she was trained by my mother as both a warrior and sorceress."

"... And - no offense - but she was interested in your brother?" Natasha asked, eyebrow raised.

"Far more than interested," Thor smiled. "They were devoted to one another. But you see, Loki was not always as he was when you met him. Far from it. He could have turned out much different had I not been such a fool for so long."

"I find it hard to believe that you of all people could be the one to blame for Loki's insanity," Natasha replied.

But Thor shook his head a bit sadly and said, "No, not I alone, but you did not know me before I was cast out. I was a different man then, arrogant and unable to see past myself and my own pride long enough to see what was happening to my own brother."

"I know what it's like to blame yourself," Steve said quietly. "But some things are out of our control. No matter how much we'd do anything to change that."

Thor nodded, then looked down before replying, "I am glad that your friend is recovering. If only I had been able to reach Loki as you were able to reach him, perhaps Loki's fate would have been different."

Steve, now unfortunately able to understand what it was like to have to battle a man you had grown up with and considered a brother regardless of blood, nodded and stayed silent. After a few seconds of silence, Natasha sighed and said, "Okay, let's change the subject before it gets even more depressing. So Thor found his brother doing weird things with copies of himself and tied up magically to his bed naked - your stories can't be nearly as awkward as that, Steve."

Steve sighed, obviously wishing that the conversation had not ended up back here once again. "You're not gonna let this go, are you?"

"I could resort to interrogation," she shrugged. Then she added with a grin, "You like it when I interrogate you."

Thor understood there to be some subtext to that line when Steve blushed a little, then covered it up by muttering, "Fine, fine. The first time, I was fifteen, he was sixteen, and his parents weren't home when I came over to his house, so I let myself in and figured he was in his room. He was. And his girlfriend was in there too, and I had no idea what I was looking at when I opened the door."

"You didn't know what sex was?" Natasha asked with sudden concern. Even Thor looked a bit confused.

"No, yeah, I knew what it was, but I didn't know all the different kinds of it."

"Oh," Natasha chuckled. "You poor thing."

He grimaced a little and then added, "And the second time it was actually in my house, which was why I didn't think to knock first, since I wasn't expecting that."

"In your bed?" she laughed.

"No, my bathroom," he cringed. "Now can we please change the subject? Thor's not the only one who wouldn't mind forgetting."

"You're both babies," Natasha rolled her eyes. "So since they didn't have sex-ed back then, is it safe to assume that you learned everything from him?"

Steve nodded and said, "He said I needed to know so that I was 'prepared' when the day came."

"That's a good friend," she grinned. "And it only took ninety five years for that day to come."

Thor laughed heartily at that while Steve sighed and smiled at her good-naturedly. "And yet I didn't hear you complaining."

"No, you did not," she smirked back.

"I must admit," Thor said, "I first thought it strange that the two of you were courting, but now it would be strange if you were not. How long do mortal courtships usually last before marriage comes?"

"Whoa, slow down there, Thunder-god," Natasha instantly replied while Steve nodded almost frantically.

"Yeah, we definitely don't have any plans for that sort of thing."

"'Courtships' here are different from what you're used to," she added.

Looking back and forth between the two of them, Thor nodded and then laughed again. "Ah, I see! But there is a limited window of time where children are possible, yes?"

Nearly choking, Steve said, "I don't... uh... I don't think we -"

"- Haven't really talked about it yet," Natasha finished for him. "And Steve, calm down before you hurt yourself."

Steve forced a smile and nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

Before Thor could comment on any of that, another series of moans were heard, and Steve rolled his eyes and slumped back against the couch. "This is getting ridiculous now."

Checking her watch again, Natasha wondered aloud, "Is this part of round three or the start of four?"

"I thought mortals were limited in this... area," Thor said.

"Bucky's got something similar to what I have, so he's not..." Steve trailed off due to an even louder moan, and he quickly sat up and said, "All right. I'm going to bed."

"Oh, good. Listening to them is starting to get to me," Natasha said, standing up to follow him.

Steve looked at her and said, "That's kinda weird."

"Oh please," she rolled her eyes, walking past him and heading towards his room with renewed purpose.

Steve glanced at Thor and then shifted on his feet a bit as he said, "If you need some earplugs or something..."

"Oh, do not worry! I will be fine. Enjoy the rest of your night."

Steve nodded stiffly and then turned to head out of the room, cringing one last time at the sounds still flowing freely from down the hall before he turned and walked the other hall, vowing to tease the heck out of his friend in the morning. Thor trudged off to his own guest room, ever fascinated and mildly confused by the courting and mating rituals of modern Midgard.

* * *

When daylight came and gently pulled Summer's eyelids open, her first instinct was to shut them tightly and burrow further into the cocoon of warmth that she was in, so that was exactly what she did. In fact, it was so warm that it was almost too warm, and she was confused for half a moment until she felt an arm tighten around her middle and a hard but familiar body shift behind her. Her eyes opened again, and her memory kicked into gear as warm breath tickled her neck and lips brushed just under her ear.

She couldn't stop the smile that spread lazily across her face, and it suddenly didn't matter that she'd barely slept all night. She remembered dozing a few times, only to be awakened by kisses on her neck or a hand sliding somewhere that made her gasp awake. Then the cycle would repeat itself, and now it was morning, and she was the best kind of exhausted.

A kiss to her shoulder proved that Bucky was now awake as well, but she kept silent and still for a bit so that she could take a moment to think it all over. She stretched her legs under the sheets and was immediately met with a dull sort of ache that radiated in places that had never had a proper workout until the night before. That particular ache brought back a dizzying flash of images in her head, one of which involved what she thought was maybe the third time, when Bucky had pulled her on top of him and asked her with a slightly hoarse voice to ride him. Remembering it made her blush as deeply as she had when it had happened, but remembering how he'd watched her grant his request with what looked like reverence in his eyes made her heart throb almost painfully.

How many times had it happened after that first perfect, albeit incredibly short, time? She counted in her head, concluding that the answer was four. But the night had been quite full of variety, she thought as she yawned softly. The yawn brought her attention to another ache, this one in her jaw, and it also made her mind flood with images, just as the first one had. This time, though, all the pictures crystallized into one, and her eyes fluttered shut as her cheeks heated up yet again.

She remembered him lying there on his back, metal hand fisted tightly in her hair while his other gripped his own hair, ragged moans leaving his open mouth as hers worked to earn the next's morning's ache within it. She had looked up to watch him arch his back and tighten his grips as he gave in to the pleasure she was bringing him, and it may have been both the sexiest and most beautiful thing she'd ever seen.

It was all almost too good to be real. To feel the kind of ecstasy that she had felt - over and over, thanks to his determination to make up for the first time - and then to be able to give it back to him and know by his moans and the shudders of his body how much he was enjoying it... now she understood everything.

It had taken her almost 26 years, but she finally got it. This was how it was supposed to be. This was what thousands and thousands of novels had been written about, what she had always wanted but never really understood because she'd never had it. This was love, real love, and the physical manifestation of it. And it was like breathing for the first time.

In fact, she loved him so much, her heart may just explode inside of her chest.

Then there was his voice, gravelly and husky with sleepiness as his lips brushed against her ear, rousing her from her overwhelming thoughts. "Morning, sunshine."

She smiled, biting her lip as she covered his hand on her belly with her own and settled back against him. "Morning... did you get any sleep?"

"A little," he replied, kissing her neck and breathing her in as she closed her eyes.

His metal arm was under the pillow that her head was laying on, and the gentle clicks and mechanical sounds had been her soundtrack to sleep to, just as it had been every night that she'd fallen asleep with him. It was equally comforting now as his flesh hand roamed to her side and slowly down over her hip, while his lazy kisses trailed up towards her jaw.

This, she knew, was what contentedness felt like. This was as close to perfection as she was ever gonna get, and it was pretty damn close.

"I can die happy now," she sighed, her words causing him to still in his movements and raise his head to look down at her.

"What?" he asked quietly as she shifted on her back to look up at him.

She smiled. "If I died tomorrow, I'd die happy. Not that I want to die, because I don't, but now when I do, it'll suck a little less because of you."

He stared at her for a moment before he grinned slightly in understanding, looking her over like she was the best thing he'd ever woken up to. "You're incredible."

Her smile lingered as he kissed her lips softly then. She was glad that he thought she was so great, though she felt like she'd just been trying to hang on and keep up throughout all of last night. He was the one with experience, who knew what he was doing, whereas she was learning on the job while doubting that she could really measured up to what he had before, at least in terms of skill. Then again, he'd sure acted like she had. And it had definitely sounded like it.

"I still can't believe it didn't hurt," she said quietly as he ran his fingers through her terribly knotted hair. It had been wet at the start of the night and uncombed after her shower, and detangling it today was going to be a nightmare.

"It isn't supposed to," he replied, his fingers trailing from her hair to her cheek, then tracing her bottom lip.

"Yeah, but I still thought it would hurt at least a little at first," she said, kissing his fingertip as it left her lips. "But instead it was just... perfect." He grinned again and kissed the corner of her mouth, and then she added, "Even if I might need a wheelchair to get around today."

That made him chuckle against her lips. Then he began slowly pulling his sheet away from her as he replied, "You can stay in my bed all day. I won't mind."

"I would, but I have a kid who'll be waking up in an hour," she said, trying not to feel a sudden but faint nervousness at being bare before him under the harsher glare of daylight. It felt silly, but she chalked it up to her years of celibacy. One couldn't get over their innate shyness in a single night, even if said night was the best one ever.

"I can work with an hour," he murmured, eyes darkening as he looked her over, helping to do away with her brief moment of anxiety. Then he was kissing her, first on her mouth and then her cheek, then her still-stiff jaw, and on down to her neck where he continued his downward path as she squirmed with already-blooming anticipation. She could feel how much he wanted her again, both in his touch and in how he was pressed against her, and by the time his lips reached her lower stomach, her fingers were already buried in his hair and tightening as she waited, holding her breath.

"Ow," she hissed in mild but surprising pain when he gently eased one of her legs over his shoulder. He looked up at her in concern, but she quickly brushed it off and smiled, "Good pain. I'm fine. Just sore."

He hesitated before accepting that answer, and when he did, his lips went to her inner thigh and her eyes closed as shivers erupted at the simple touch. His hands held her in place and she gave in to what she knew was coming, what she knew he could do and what he could make her feel, and it was worth every bit of lingering pain and soreness that she'd be dealing with later.

Even if she'd only been half-kidding about the wheelchair.

* * *

For the first time since arriving at Stark Tower a few months ago, Bucky did not drag himself down the hallway or angrily stomp his way to the kitchen with the single-minded goal of inhaling enough caffeine to wake up a horse following his usual dismal night of sleep. He didn't scowl or frown, nor did he even really think about coffee at all. And he definitely wasn't stomping or dragging his feet.

No. Instead of that, he was quite possibly strutting his way down the hall, freshly showered and for once ready to take on the day and possibly the very universe.

Unaware of this fact and also unaware of the unprecedented lack of a scowl on his pre-coffee self's face, he strolled lightly into the kitchen, nodded at Steve who was washing a plate in the sink, said an almost cheerful "Morning" as opposed to his usual lack of any greeting, and then began his routine with the coffee maker.

Steve, despite knowing full well the reason for Bucky's spectacular mood because he'd had to listen to it all night, muttered back a surprised "Good morning" and stared at his friend in slight disbelief for a moment. Then he grinned a little bit and turned back to the plate he was rinsing. "You look like you're in a good mood this morning."

Filling up the coffeepot with water, Bucky shrugged nonchalantly and turned around to pour it in. "I guess."

Drying the plate with a dish towel, Steve leaned against the counter and asked, "Get much sleep?"

"Not really," he replied honestly, switching on the "on" button and then looking at Steve, who had a terrible poker face.

"I figured. Since you sounded pretty busy." When Bucky remained expressionless at this, Steve added, "Basically, the whole floor could hear you guys. Natasha was keeping count of how many times you..."

Bucky's eyebrows furrowed. "Hear us?"

"You're as loud as you were when you were twenty," Steve shrugged.

Bucky wasn't sure what that comment was referring to, though he had a few ideas, but he made a mental note to ask later. "I figured the walls were... thick enough."

Steve shook his head. "Not even close."

Bucky started laughing before he could help it. He couldn't even apologize for having apparently provided the night's entertainment - it was too funny. Although Summer might not find it as hilarious as he did.

Steve just shook his head and gave his shoulder a pat. "You should have seen Thor's face. And I had to stop Stark from recording it all on his phone."

As the coffee dripped slowly into the pot, Bucky's grin lingered on his face as he watched it, fairly sure that he'd be grinning like this for at least the next week.

"I take it the conversation went well," Steve said.

"Yeah," Bucky replied, thinking back to how the night started and how he still would have been perfectly happy had it ended there, with Summer's sweet confession of her love for him. Everything else had been an enormous amount of icing on the cake. "Yeah, it did. I was worried for nothing."

"Good. I'm happy for you."

By the time the coffee was done and a comfortable silence had fallen upon the two men, Bucky had already downed one cup and was working on his second when Steve said, "So, do you want to talk about it?"

"... Talk about it?"

"Used to be a tradition, back when things were... normal," Steve shrugged. "You told me things I didn't really want to know, in almost disgusting detail, and got a kick out of watching me cringe and turn red."

Now that Steve mentioned it, that did seem pretty familiar. "Oh, yeah."

Steve stood there a minute before gesturing across the room and sighing, "Let's get it over with. Probably best to sit outside so nobody secretly records us or something."

Thinking it slightly weird but willing to do anything it took to get more back to the way things had once been, Bucky followed Steve out to a terrace and sat down quietly next to him. It felt more than a little awkward, especially since he had no idea where to start or what kind of details were too much. On second thought, maybe this tradition was better left in the past.

But it was too late now. Fidgeting slightly, Steve said, "So..."

"... Where am I supposed to start?"

"The... beginning, I guess," Steve muttered.

"... Okay. Um..." he trailed off, deciding to just ignore the weirdness and persevere. "Well, it started out pretty good. Perfect, actually. Except it was over in about two minutes."

Steve laughed, and Bucky shot him a half-hearted glare. Then Steve held his hands up and said, "I'm not laughing at you. It's just funny."

"Yeah, well I doubt you did much better after ninety five years," Bucky muttered.

"... Yeah, not really. Two minutes isn't that bad. I don't think I made it to one. Actually, I was lucky that I managed to... make it at all." After Bucky looked at him strangely, Steve shrugged and said, "Anyway, go on."

Clearing his throat, Bucky brushed off the thoughts of that overwhelming but not-ideal first go and started mentally shuffling through his memories from what came after. There was so much, and definitely some things he planned on keeping to himself no matter what, but after a moment he grinned and glanced out towards the city as he said, "She was sexy as hell. It was basically her first time and it didn't even matter, she was just..."

"Her first time?" Steve asked in slight confusion. "She's got a kid, though."

"... Long story," Bucky shrugged, not wanting to give any details of her history that she might not want him to. "But her kid came from the only time."

"Oh. Okay. Wow. Seems like most people her age these days are a lot different from that."

Based on what he'd seen on the trash TV he'd encountered a few times, Bucky would agree, but it was all beside the point. He was staring out into space slightly as he said somewhat dreamily, "I always thought she'd be quiet because of how easily embarrassed she is, but..."

"... That is obviously not the case," Steve concluded.

Bucky shook his head in agreement. "No. And I didn't know how flexible she is either. She said she did gymnastics for a few years in high school."

"That's... uh... yeah, that's good," Steve said. "Nat, you know her and her... skills. She can bend pretty much any way imaginable, and this one time I took her leg and managed to get it all the way around -"

"Steve."

"Sorry."

This was weird. But he was determined to make it not weird, and pressing along seemed to be the best way to do that. He just wasn't prepared for the mental image he'd just gotten.

"We heard a crashing sound some time around 3 in the morning," Steve said, changing the subject slightly.

He grinned a little as he recalled the cause of that. "She's clumsy. We fell off the bed and broke a lamp." Then he leaned his head back a bit, expression shifting from amused to thoughtful as he added more quietly, "The thing is, I remember a lot of the times that I was with Viv, the first time and... I'm pretty sure the last time... and it was great, you know, it really was. But this was different. It was... I can't even say."

"Well, you did wait a long time," Steve pointed out. "And like I've said before, I know you pretty well. And I've never seen you with anyone the way you are with her."

After a pause, Bucky said, "I don't know if it's just how much I love her or what HYDRA did to me, but it was like I couldn't stop. I kept expecting to run out of steam after awhile but I didn't, and then this morning I could barely let her out of bed... and then when I did I just followed her to the shower and -"

"Bucky."

Right. He drew a breath and shut up. Then he glanced at Steve's mildly flustered face and could suddenly remember having done this before, but with a lot more graphic details, and some of the weirdness fell away in favor of the never-old amusement of watching Steve cringe.

Now that he could remember doing this before, he could surely do even better.

"She doesn't have much of a gag reflex, either."

Steve groaned. "I did not need to know that."

Chuckling, Bucky replied, "You asked for details."

"Well, I wanted the tradition, not so much the actual details that are unfortunately a part of it," Steve explained. Then, after a brief silence, he added, "Natasha has literally no gag reflex at all. I didn't know that was even possible."

After a long moment of silence, Bucky said, "It doesn't feel right hearing these things from you."

Steve chuckled. "Trust me, I'm still in shock sometimes too."

On a whim of curiosity, Bucky asked, "Is she as serious about you as you are about her?"

Steve hesitated before answering. "I don't know. I hope so. It's... complicated. It took a lot of convincing to keep her from running for the hills. It still does sometimes."

"... Sounds like the sort of thing you'd get yourself into," Bucky noted. "Never do anything the easy way."

"Nope."

A moment or two later, Bucky said, "Summer... being with her... feels easy. Nothing else feels easy. But she does, she always has. And I keep expecting that to change, I know it has to eventually."

"Maybe it doesn't," Steve shrugged. "I think you've earned having one part of your life come easily."

And the thing was, after the previous night, he could believe that. It came so naturally with her, and he didn't even know why, but it did, and if he let himself think too long, he might start subconsciously sabotaging it by inventing problems where there was none. His therapist called it a "self-fulfilling prophecy".

So he decided not to think about what may or may not happen, and focused instead on what was.

And as it stood, things weren't so bad. He still couldn't sleep at night, flashbacks might always be an issue, and there was still a lot of unresolved anger and memories to get back. But he had a lot of positives to combat the negatives, more than he deserved, and more than he could have dreamed possible only a matter of months ago.

He was starting to believe that old quack doctor, that the sense of foreshadowing, impending doom on the horizon was just a product of what repeated, systemic torture did to a person. There would always be dangers, but doom wasn't always imminent. And for once, things were okay.

And maybe being openly, unashamedly in love had helped him to see this.

"Anything else you want to torture me with before we go back inside?" Steve asked, rousing Bucky from his suddenly introspective thoughts.

He tossed a few ideas around in his head before deciding that he really didn't want to share anything else. Instead, he glanced at Steve and said, "How about I give you the chance to have some revenge?"

"Revenge?"

Bucky shrugged. "Seems fair, after years of me supposedly defiling your virgin ears."

Steve chuckled and then looked forward, apparently deep in thought for a long moment before he replied, "Okay. So Nat likes being on top, naturally. And this one time she started singing The Star-Spangled Banner right when I was about to -"

"Never mind," Bucky interrupted, standing up and heading for the door while Steve laughed. "Forget I said anything."

* * *

Summer couldn't say that she was walking on air, because she was in fact walking on two legs that were sore nearly everywhere above the ankles, and yet sitting down wasn't that great of an option either. Basically, there was no escaping it, so she ignored it, humming cheerfully to herself as she zipped around the empty kitchen to fix herself and her son breakfast.

There was an idiotic smile plastered to her face that never left but merely varied in intensity as she simultaneously replayed the previous night's events and managed not to completely ruin the food that she was making. She did, however, almost burn a couple of eggs when she recalled what had already happened that morning.

It was easy to drift off, spatula in hand, as she remembered how just about half an hour ago, she'd been introduced to the joys of morning sex only to then get dragged into the shower only to end up getting a crash course in shower sex as well. The shower itself seemed to be redundant, as she left it feeling less clean than when she'd been carried into it, but there was no way that she would even consider complaining. She'd been waiting a long time to have problems as awesome as these.

It was as she rummaged around in the fridge looking for juice that she began to wonder if she was going to have issues keeping up with Bucky. She'd been joking about the super-stamina thing but it had turned out to be extremely real. She was considering starting up a new workout regimen to build up her endurance when she successfully located the orange juice and then closed the fridge door, only to then find herself face to face with a man she'd never seen before.

He was not especially tall and not entirely friendly looking either as he stood there looking at her very seriously, casually tossing an apple into the air and catching it as he asked, "Who are you?"

She blinked and narrowed her gaze a little bit, since this guy had come out of nowhere but seemed to think that he totally belonged there and that she didn't. Was she supposed to know who he was?

"Well... who are you?" she shot back, glancing at David as he sat at the table and suddenly wishing she had her taser on her.

"I asked first," he said, taking a bite of the apple.

She hesitated, unsure of how to proceed, though she had the feeling that this guy wasn't dangerous - surely this floor of the tower was even more secure than the rest of it, right?

"That's our resident groupie," Natasha, appearing from out of nowhere, informed the man as she leaned against the island that divided the kitchen from the rest of the room. Summer did a double take - had she been there all along? Also, groupie?! "Just kidding," Natasha added, gesturing to Summer. "Clint, this is Summer. Summer, Clint Barton."

The name rang a bell, but it took Summer a moment to figure out exactly who he was.

"Doesn't answer my question, though," Clint said, taking another bite.

"HYDRA blew up her house trying to take out Barnes," Natasha explained. "She's been staying with us ever since."

His eyes darting to David, Clint said, "I take it the kid's yours."

"Yeah," Summer replied, still trying to figure out exactly who she was talking to.

"Well, I didn't know 'Avengers tower'", he used air quotes, "is supposed to be a family affair now."

With that, the bells rang in her head, and Summer nearly exclaimed, "Oh! Now I know who you are! You're the arrow guy. Yeah! On the news they called you the 'Robin Hood Avenger' because they didn't know your name."

While Clint's deadpan expression managed to become even more blank, Summer grinned and then started mock-singing, "We're men... we're men in tights..."

As Clint rolled his eyes and gave the distinct impression that he had heard enough Robin Hood remarks to last several lifetimes, Natasha smirked and chuckled, which made Summer nearly die from shock and Clint glare at her like she'd just committed mutiny. But Natasha merely shrugged and said, "Oh, come on. It was funny." Then she glanced at Summer and said, "By the way, you're pretty bright eyed and bushy tailed for someone who spent all last night screaming instead of sleeping."

Choking on nothing, Summer's eyebrows shot up her forehead and pure, unbridled horror ran through her veins as her jaw dropped. "Uh... I, uh... what?"

"Not I blame you. That stamina's something else."

While Summer turned the color of the red apple that Clint had been chewing, a look of distaste came over the archer's face and he asked Natasha, "Are you still not over your defiling-a-national-treasure phase yet?"

Natasha just answered with a smirk and said, "Are you still not over your moment of jealousy yet?"

"Way over it, but it's still weird," Clint shrugged. Even Summer, in her turmoil, noticed how his eyes flashed to Natasha's arrow necklace before looking away just as quickly. "It's taking the goody-two-shoes goes for the bad boy thing to a whole new level, and reversed."

"Trust me, Steve's not as innocent as he looks."

Dying of her own embarrassment still, Summer groaned and all but ran to the table with her food to exit the conversation and suffer in peace. Everybody had been out there last night - including the guy who owned the whole building and was technically her boss - and the idea that they'd all heard her... was she really that loud? She had thought that she stayed relatively quiet compared to Bucky, whose loudness from the very start had irrevocably melted her brain, but that was apparently not the case.

She stared at her eggs and toast while inside, she died a thousand deaths. Leave it to her, she thought, to do something that managed to take all of those good feelings and then turn them on their heads and instead spend the morning mired in mortification.

Actually, on second thought...

Sitting up straight, she resolutely crammed a forkful of food into her mouth and squared her shoulders, deciding instead to shake it off and not let one embarrassing thing ruin the sheer awesomeness of everything else. She was too happy and way too determined to let that happen. And if she had to fake it and just pretend to get over her embarrassment, then so be it. She'd catch up eventually. Hopefully. Maybe not. But still.

She just hoped that poor David hadn't woken up and heard anything. That would be a whole other level of horrible.

So focused she was on her food and on convincing herself that she could get over this latest round of humiliation that she almost jumped out of her skin when she felt a kiss on the top of her head. She whipped around in her seat, surprised to see Bucky standing there and equally surprised that he'd just showed affection to her in front of other people. "Oh, sorry, I just..."

"Did I scare you?" he asked, sounding a bit amused and slightly concerned as he stood there, looking somehow different than he normally did, though she wasn't yet sure how.

"Little bit, I was just... thinking and I got really..." Groaning, she grabbed him by the collar of his t-shirt and pulled him down so she could hiss in his ear, "Everybody heard me last night. Everybody!"

Shifting a bit to look up at her, he stifled a grin and replied, "Yeah, Steve told me."

"It's horrible!" she whisper-yelled, turning red all over again, looking at him with wide eyes. "What am I supposed to do?"

He stared at her for a moment before his expression became a bit more serious, and he said, "Look, I didn't know... that would happen. I never want you to be embarrassed."

"I don't know how not to be," she admitted through slightly gritted teeth.

He seemed to think for a moment, and then he leaned in closer - ignoring how David glared at him a little when he did - and his lips brushed along her ear as he said, "You were absolutely amazing and... perfect last night. Don't be embarrassed for it. If anyone should be embarrassed, it's her," he gestured subtly to Natasha in the kitchen. "She sings the Star Bangled Banner when her and Steve are in the middle of -"

Summer burst out laughing before he could finish that sentence, and as she covered her mouth to stifle the giggles, she looked up at him in disbelief. "You're joking."

He shook his head. "Steve told me. So... you have nothing to be embarrassed about."

Still laughing a little bit, Summer smiled at him and then leaned up to kiss his cheek. She had to admit, she did feel a little bit better somehow now. "Thanks for that."

He grinned at her, then glanced across the room and asked, "Who's that?"

"Robin Hood," Summer replied.

While Bucky looked at her in mild confusion, Steve finally made his way back in from outside and then looked a little surprised at the unexpected company. "Clint! I didn't know you were planning a visit."

The visitor in question turned from his conversation with Natasha to look at Steve blankly as he approached. "Yeah, everyone forgot to invite me to the party."

Steve smiled a little uneasily, eyes darting to Natasha and then back to Clint before saying, "I didn't even know where you've been all this time. How've you been?"

"Haven't gotten my brains scrambled lately, so pretty good."

Steve nodded, then asked, "You planning on staying awhile?"

"Hell no," Clint scoffed. "I know a circus when I see one. I've got my own place."

"How are the chickens?" Natasha asked casually.

"Pretty good. You'd be shocked how much money you can make selling certain breeds of chicks."

Steve's brows furrowed. "... Chickens?"

"Yeah, Clint's been spending his downtime pretty interestingly," Natasha nodded. Then she glanced across the room and nudged Steve. "Steve, don't be rude. Introduce your long lost best friend."

Having been shamelessly eavesdropping, Summer glanced at Bucky and saw him almost roll his eyes but get up anyway, trudging across the room to get it over with.

"Right," Steve said, "Clint, this is -"

"Yeah, I know who he is. I get CNN," Clint said, still quite deadpan, mirroring Bucky's own expression. He held out his hand anyway and said, "So, you do exist."

Glancing down at the offered hand, Bucky hesitated before shaking it. "Looks like it."

"You see that quack shrink, too?" Clint asked.

"Connor, yeah."

Clint nodded. "Has no idea what he's talking about."

Bucky nodded in agreement. "He's an idiot."

"And yet you both keep going back to him," Natasha pointed out.

"Beside the point," Clint said. "What hobby did he suggest for you? Knitting? Volunteering at an animal shelter?"

"... Dancing, most recently," Bucky replied.

"Figures. My farm is still better."

Steve's eyes widened. "You have an actual farm?"

"You're not invited," Clint replied, and Steve paused before glancing at Natasha and appearing to grow slightly uneasy. Summer wished she had some popcorn - there was clearly some underlying tension regarding the three people, and she had a feeling the necklace factored in somewhere. Then Clint grinned and added, "Don't take it personal. None of you are invited."

"I'm always invited," Natasha pointed out.

"Besides you," Clint amended. Then he looked Summer's way and asked Bucky, "That your kid?"

"No."

"Didn't think so."

"What happened to you?" Bucky asked, curiosity taking precedence over tact.

"Thor's brother brainwashed me into his personal minion for awhile," Clint replied casually. "Took some time off to deal with it."

Bucky nodded, and Natasha glanced at Steve and said, "I had a feeling they'd bond."

Clint rolled his eyes and then wandered off into the kitchen, looking for more food, and Summer realized she'd been sitting there staring and listening the whole time. She snapped out of it, looking down at what was left of her breakfast and smiling a little at how Bucky had been asked if David was his kid. The funny thing was, he'd already spent more time with David than his actual father ever had...

As the thought faded, she played idly with her fork and then suddenly dropped it as her eyes shot wide open. Kids. Kids!

She hadn't given a sliver of a thought to pregnancy or birth control until that very moment. It had all happened so fast, and she'd been focused entirely on the shock of his "I love you" and the equal shock of finally ending their self-imposed abstinence had simply left no room in her brain for such important matters like making sure she didn't get pregnant on the first night. It was unlikely, yes, but it had happened before, which was why she really should have thought of it before last night. And this morning.

Gulping, she grabbed her phone out of her pocket and started furiously Googling the nearest women's clinic in the area. It only took a moment to locate one that took walk-ins, so she breathed a sigh of relief and then looked up to find the room suddenly empty. She looked around, confirming that everyone had apparently left, and she decided that worked well enough for her.

After getting up and telling David that they needed to get dressed and leave soon, she was almost to the hallway when she heard Natasha's voice come out of nowhere and stop her. "Hey."

Where had she even come from? How did she keep doing this? "Uh, yeah?"

"Sorry if I embarrassed you earlier," the highly-feared ex-assassin said, flying in the face of Summer's expectations.

"Oh, um... well, you did, but... it's fine," Summer shrugged. "I mean, I kinda did it to myself, right?"

"It's nothing to be ashamed of, you know," Natasha said as David became quickly bored and headed off to his room. "Besides, it sounded like you were able to keep up with him, which is something to be proud of. I would know. It's not always easy keeping up with a super soldier, and that's coming someone with my abilities."

"Really?" Summer asked. "I mean... really?"

"I haven't been injected with any experimental serums, so yes, really."

"Oh. Well, that's... comforting," Summer chuckled. "I think I should start working out, though, because I probably need to build some some, uh... endurance."

"Well, after awhile you'll figure out how to do things more... efficiently," Natasha said. "You'll learn more about what he likes and how to get things done without such a strenuous effort. Except for when that's what you want."

"Oh," she said a little dumbly. "Yeah, that makes sense."

Grinning, Natasha asked, "You haven't had much experience with men, have you?"

"Basically none," Summer admitted. "There was only the one time, which was when I got pregnant, and it was... well, horrific, so..."

"Well, since he was louder than you, I can assume that you're doing fine," Natasha replied, and Summer blushed a new shade of pink. "But if you ever need tips or have questions, feel free to ask me."

"Really?"

"Yeah," she shrugged. "I don't get a lot of chances for girl talk, and since we're both in very unique situations, it only makes sense."

"Okay," Summer nodded. "Yeah, that would be awesome, because I am definitely full of questions, now that you mention it, but I have to get going because I am idiot and totally forgot about being safe so now I have to go get pills or a shot or something before he jumps me again."

"Go for something other than pills," Natasha said. "Too easy to forget or skip. And don't bother with condoms. They won't work."

"They won't... work?"

"They aren't made for super soldiers," Natasha smirked. "Trust me."

Staring for a moment before blinking suddenly, Summer nodded and said, "Okay. Thanks. Uh... I should go now, but I really do want to have that talk, so..."

"I'll be around."

"Okay," Summer said, telling the woman goodbye as she turned and finally headed for her room. Her head was spinning a bit, both from lingering disbelief that she'd totally forgotten about birth control the night before and from how nice Natasha was being. And now she had someone to talk to about stuff - top secret stuff - who wasn't a guy or her brother? Amazing. Absolutely amazing.

Everything was awesome. She just had to go get shot up with hormones so that everything could stay awesome.

* * *

When Bucky had returned to the thirty-sixth floor to find Summer apparently gone, he'd nearly panicked when Natasha told him that she'd made a trip to a doctor's clinic. His first thought being that he'd caused her some kind of actual damage beyond that of some lingering soreness, Natasha had then laughed at his expense before informing him that it was no big deal, just a visit to the clinic to make sure that no little Buckys would be running around any time soon. Which then led to his feeling like a giant idiot for having not thought of that when it would have mattered, but then again, he had next to no clue about the modern ways of preventing such things, which also led to him being confused as to why she'd had to go to a clinic. Natasha, however, was kind enough to enlighten him, and he was immensely relieved that she wasn't seeking medical attention for a... injury of some kind.

He spent some of the day quietly listening as the Clint guy that he'd just met chatted with the others about the finer points of farm life and about their past antics as a group, but then Stark showed up and the familiar feeling of being an outsider started to set in. It wasn't that anyone was unkind or weird to him, because they weren't, but it was difficult to find a place within a large group that had been bonded by the sort of events that he'd been on the wrong side of.

He was in his room reading through his nearly-full notebook of dreams and memories that he'd been keeping since Summer had suggested it since his first week staying with her when the sound of David screeching and struggling began to fill the hallway outside of his door. Putting the mostly-depressing notebook aside and looking towards the door, he got up and walked towards it as the sound got closer, and when he opened the door, he saw Summer half-carrying and half-dragging her son towards her own room a ways down.

Their eyes briefly met as she struggled, but she stayed focused on her nearly-hysterical son and on begging him to stop fighting her. It wasn't the first time he'd seen this happen, but something seemed worse this time, and that was confirmed when Summer lost her grip on the boy and he started hitting her anywhere he could reach with his flailing limbs.

Bucky watched her struggle and try to grab his arms to restrain him, and with some time he knew that she would have - but that was irrelevant. One look at the slight despair and utter frustration on her face, and he only had a few seconds to hesitate slightly on what to do - it wasn't his kid and it wasn't his place to do anything, and she wasn't asking him for help, but it turned out that he couldn't stand there and watch for very long at all.

He stepped out into the hallway and walked up behind David, who was still screaming and halfway to the floor but still kicking and trying to hit out at anything he could. Bucky reached down and grabbed the boy's wrists with one hand, then picked him up with his other arm and held him still. He looked up at Summer and then moved closer to her, and with a bit of careful maneuvering, got David into her arms in a position that she could hold him somewhat still in.

"Thank you," she breathed gratefully before hurrying to her room, and he nodded back to her before quietly following when he saw that she didn't close her door behind her.

It took a bit more time and mostly leaving David alone once he calmed down to put an end to the episode. Bucky stuck around only to be there if she happened to need more help, and while she didn't, she asked him to stay the time that he'd begun to leave.

Once he'd calmed down, David only made it a few minutes lying in his bed with his tablet before he was out for a nap, the meltdown having exhausted him. Summer breathed a sigh of relief once he was asleep, then sat down heavily on the foot of her bed with her shoulders slumped.

He followed her there as she peeked up at him and said, "Sorry."

"For what?" he asked with genuine confusion.

"I don't know. Having to help me deal with that, I guess."

"That's nothing to be sorry for," Bucky said.

She stared down at her feet for a moment before saying, "He's done so amazingly good lately but he's delicate, you know, especially right now, and he was just on edge from the minute I took him out today. It was like one thing after another and then the thing that finally made him snap was a dog - he's really scared of dogs - but there was a dog that some idiot didn't have a leash on that came running up to him barking like a psycho and he just freaked out," she sighed. "And it really sucks when people are staring at you and judging you like you're the reason your kid is screaming and you're having to pick them up and drag them down the street."

"People are idiots," Bucky replied.

"Yeah," she chuckled. "Back when I first had him, I got dirty looks because even though I was twenty I still looked like a teenager, so everyone just assumed I was a sixteen year old slut who didn't know how to use a condom. Now people look at me like I'm a child abuser or something."

"Because they're idiots," he pointed out.

She chuckled again and looked up at him, and he could see a small twinge of sadness in his eyes. "He's getting so much bigger, though, and he's only gonna grow up more. One day he'll be a teenager and what I am I gonna do if he's still having fits like this? He'll probably be bigger than me and he could seriously hurt himself - or me - if he's still doing this. And if anything ever happened to me and somebody else had to take care of him..."

He stopped her then, because he could see her doing what he was learning not to do himself - overthink and imagine the worst when there was no good reason to do so. "Don't worry about any of that now. I don't know anything about him or what he has, but I know thinking like that won't help anything."

"Yeah, but... it's hard not to," she said quietly, leaning her head on his shoulder and closing her eyes for a minute.

"I could distract you," he offered as his lips brushed against her hair.

She gave a soft giggle and glanced up at him. "Why am I surprised that you'd say that?"

"I didn't mean what you're thinking," he said, though his eyes darted down to her lips and then even more quickly to the reasonably low neckline of her shirt.

"Really?" she asked skeptically. "Then what did you have in mind?"

"Thought you might want to give the dancing thing another try," he suggested. "But only if you feel like it."

"Oh. Yeah, actually... I could use something fun right now. But where?"

He thought for a moment, knowing that the living room would be busy right now and that even the gym would be as well, so he shrugged and said, "I guess my room will have to work. Record player's already in there."

"Okay... but just to put it out there, I'll probably be even worse than before because of my, er... soreness."

He grinned, pulling her to her feet with one hand in hers. "We'll make it work."

"You don't have to look so smug, you know," she chided him, though it just made his grin deepen before he turned and headed for the door.

Once he got her in his room and let go of her hand to head towards the record player that sat on top of his dresser, he glanced back once to find her eyeing the bed that he'd only half-made since they'd wrecked it. She was also fidgeting a little bit, which only amused him as he turned back to his search for a record to put on.

Once he picked one and set it up, he turned around and got her attention by taking her hand and walking her to the most open part of the room. It wasn't much, since his room was on the smaller side, so he ended up quickly shoving his bed against a wall to make extra room before returning to her and taking her in his arms.

She started smiling nervously the minute he took his first step, biting her lip and looking down to watch as she tried once more to copy him. He started slow, on purpose, to give her a bit of a refresher. She seemed almost more timid than she'd been the first time, but he could tell that she enjoyed it all the same.

"Hey," he said after spinning her out slowly once only to have her watch her feet the whole time. He pulled her all the way against his chest and said as she looked up at him, "I can hear you counting in your head. Don't try so hard. Don't even think. You said you wanted fun - just have fun."

"But I - ah!" she squealed with a giggle as he spun her again, a lot faster that time, and the smile was stuck to her face when he pulled her back. "Okay, okay!"

And it really was fun, he had to admit as the moments when on and she loosened up some and got more comfortable, more so than she had the first time. She let out a few mildly pained groans when he dipped her and apparently put too much strain on her legs, but she laughed about it and he secretly loved that she couldn't walk or do anything with her legs without a vivid reminder of what he'd done to her the night before... and that morning.

After that, he started testing her new sense of comfort, getting a little less innocent in his touches and teasing her with fleeting kisses along her neck when she was close enough just to feel her shiver against him. She made sure to squeak away each time, giving him a scolding look that he'd wipe away by taking her surprise with another move that would leave her laughing and trying to just stay on her feet.

Eventually, the urge to toss her up into the air became impossible to ignore, but given the lack of space and her beginner status, he knew he had to start small. So, just before spinning her out one time, he said, "When I pull you back in, I'm gonna grab your waist and flip you backwards."

After twirling out, she looked at him with slightly wider eyes and said, "What?"

"Just keep your legs bent and together, and hold onto my shoulder," he said before pulling her back in and then, with one very sturdy, metal arm wrapped around her middle and his other hand behind her legs, he bent down a bit and easily did exactly as he said he would. She squeaked a little when all of a sudden the world went upside down, and when her feet suddenly hit the ground, she grinned widely as he straightened up and then pulled her close with the hand still gripping hers.

"That was fun!" she exclaimed, and her smile made his own grow as he kept dancing her around the room, watching her grow more and more at ease as they went.

It only came to an end when the upbeat music eventually shifted to a slower song. A lone note from a saxophone sailed through the room before a lazy piano and upright bass joined it in a sensual tune. The lilting, enrapturing jazz rang in Bucky's ears and seemed to sink into his very skin. He closed his eyes for a bit, listening intently, before he opened his eyes to meet Summer's, who seemed fascinated by the deep love he had for this music. His lips quirking in a small smile, he pulled her into a more intimate hold, their chests pressed together, and continued to dance her about, at a pace she didn't have to work so hard to keep up with. The change seemed to fluster her, especially as the hand on her waist started making lazy trails up and down her back. She closed her eyes at the sensation and laid her head on his shoulder, letting out a soft sigh that he felt tickle the base of his neck.

"This reminds me of prom," she said as he laid a kiss to the top of her head. "Except you're not a loser trying to shove spiked punch at me and we aren't dancing to a bad Nickelback song."

He didn't know what a Nickelback was, and it didn't matter, because he understood what she meant. "Sorry I wasn't there to take you," he joked.

She chucked and said, "You can take me to my high school reunion to make up for it. I'd be the envy of all the girls who used to call me fat and weird."

He scoffed slightly, the arm around her middle hugging her a bit closer as he said, "I saw your old pictures on your computer. You were always beautiful."

"Yeah... no," she said, glancing up at him. "That would be you. Even when you had caveman hair and used to stare at me until I wanted to scream and jump out a window."

He eyed her strangely and wasn't sure which part of that statement to address first. But she untangled her hand from his to wrap both arms around his neck as she added, "I mean, don't get me wrong, I think I'm... reasonably pretty. But there's nothing reasonable about you. It's actually incredibly unfair."

"Reasonably..." he trailed off before shaking his head slightly and stopping the movements of his feet altogether. "What are you talking about?"

"Can I ask you a question?" she said, ignoring the one he'd just asked. When he nodded, she said, "Did you like me when you met me? And I don't mean like-like, because I know you weren't all there at first and you definitely weren't thinking about that kind of thing, but... was I... I don't know..." she sighed, visibly trying to gather her words. "I just tried really hard to help you and could never tell if I really was or not. Most of the time I just felt like an idiot, which I still do sometimes, but -"

His hands cupped her face and instantly quieted her as he said at the height of seriousness, "Summer, I would be dead or worse right now without you."

She blinked in surprise at those words and then said, "But... I really didn't do much..."

"Like you don't do much for your kid, right?" he retorted softly.

"... I don't feel like I do," she admitted. "Not enough, anyway."

He wanted to sigh and throw up his hands in frustration, but instead, he leaned in even closer to her and murmured, "Do you have any idea what you did to me the first time you kissed me?"

"Uh..." she swallowed, looking down at his lips, "maybe... got you excited for the first time in years and years?"

"You made me feel again," he said, still utterly serious, though he thought her answer was pretty funny. "And you still are."

He watched her eyes widen slightly for the fraction of a second that passed before he kissed her to the soft, romantic sounds of the old music playing behind them. How his words could be a shock to her now that she knew he loved her and had for some time, he didn't know, but then, back in those first weeks he'd spent with her, he'd barely spoken at all.

To think of how far he had come, and how far they had come together, it nearly made him dizzy, but in the most pleasant sense he'd ever felt. She broke the kiss first, pulling away to look up at him through noticeably heavier eyes as she muttered, "Yeah, same... same here, except for the 'again' part. More like first time ever for me."

And that satisfied a part of him that was more possessive than he cared to admit. It might have been unfair, but it was what it was, and as it stood, he kissed her harder as he reveled in being the only one she'd ever loved and ever given herself to willingly. He couldn't tell if he'd always been like this or if it was just how he was now, or maybe it was just with her - and he also didn't care.

Before he knew it, he was backing her up towards his bed without breaking the kiss, and she was not resisting, though his brain didn't catch up with any of it until he'd laid her down on the bed and held himself on top of her. His eyes opened and he looked down at her to find the heat in his eyes reflected in hers before she pulled him back down and kissed him herself, moaning softly into his mouth as his hands began a gentle but determined exploration and simultaneous undressing of her body.

"I knew this would happen," she said breathlessly when his mouth was at her neck and her fingers were working his shirt upwards. He broke away to take it off, and she added, "Is this what everything is gonna turn into now?"

"You complaining?" he asked, pausing in his own efforts to undress her as she began immediately shaking her head.

"No! God, no. I love it. But can we try to be quieter this time?"

As he thought over his answer, he unclasped her bra with a flick of his fingers and then tossed it to the floor on top of their shirts. After looking down at the newly exposed flesh all but begging for the attention of his mouth, he looked back up at her and admitted, "I'm not sure if I can."

"Well, can you..." she faltered when his fingers started teasing her breast and then drew a breath and went on, "can you... like... bite me instead?"

He immediately stopped what he was doing and stared at her with his mouth open slightly. "You want me to bite you?"

She blushed and smiled, "No, I mean, yes - I mean, is that a thing people do to stay quiet? I've read it and... written it... a couple times... you know... right when you're about to..."

The difference between the way this woman spoke of such things verbally as opposed to the way that she wrote them was astounding. But her words that he'd read some time ago were forever imprinted on his memory, and as nice and well-thought out and constructed as they were, he had a much bigger soft spot for the awkward girl herself, especially when she asked him such things with a deceptive but also genuine sort of innocence.

A grin on his lips, he leaned down towards hers as he said, "I can bite you if you want, but..." He kissed her softly, then took her bottom lip between his teeth and tugged gently, opening his eyes to look down at hers before releasing it, "I don't think it's gonna keep me quiet." Her breathing picked up a bit, and then he moved back to her neck, kissing her there along her most sensitive spots before gently biting there too. "And I don't think it's gonna keep you quiet, either."

She moaned out her agreement, and he raised his head as she made a small noise of frustration. "Maybe the music will drown us out."

"Probably not," he replied.

She huffed a little and then declared "Oh, screw it," before throwing caution to the wind and kissing him with everything she had, resuming their near-frantic pace of a few moments before.

"Can I still bite you?" he asked in a low tone against her lips, and the words alone made her moan again. She had no hope of being quiet, and he loved it.

"You can bite the hell out of me."

He laughed at that as she managed to turn them over and climb on top of him, and the motion knocked his notebook of troubled memories to the floor. He didn't notice, and it was where it belonged for that moment, while he focused on making new, better memories, with the woman he loved and was insane enough to love him back.

**A/N: short little note today, since this fluffy little chapter doesn't require much explanation :p But, two things; first, to anyone who has read _Ruin_, yep, Aemilia is who Thor is referring to in the first part of the chapter. In fact, midnightwings96 and I have plans to write a crossover together of our little combined OC-verse one day, and when it happens, it's gonna be awesome :D Second, the dance scene here was once a big fat pile of crap until the aforementioned midnightwings96 took it and applied her vastly superior musical and dancing knowledge to it and re-wrote it into something actually awesome, so my huge, huge thanks to her for helping me there. Just another scene/concept that would have been horrible or not existed without her :D And finally, as always, my thanks and love to all of you who read and follow and review this story. Your feedback makes my day and I just love all of you. Until next week! :D **


	16. Chapter 16

Summer didn't often wake up screaming from nightmares anymore, but it didn't mean they didn't still come. They did, and when it happened one night while she slept in Bucky's bed, she awoke from it silently but no less disturbed than if she'd awoken thrashing and crying out.

Lying on her stomach with both arms under her pillow, she closed her eyes and blinked the dream away with a tired sigh. It was getting old, having dreams that started normally but would then end in wherever she was and whoever she was with blowing up the way that her house had. It didn't happen every night, but a few times a week was more than enough to be burdensome.

Remembering where she was, Summer turned slowly to her back and squinted through the darkness to find the other side of the bed empty. She frowned and then began to sit up, which was when she saw Bucky, sitting on the bed a little further down, his bare back to her and head bent like he was holding it in his hands.

Though she knew very well by now how restless and light of a sleeper he was, it had been awhile since she'd found him like this. She sat up the rest of the way slowly, glancing down and gathering up a sheet over herself before shifting closer to him. He didn't move or acknowledge her until she reached out and put her hand on the back of his shoulder, then trailed it to his flesh arm as she asked quietly, "You okay?"

His hand ruffled through his hair and he raised his head a bit, though his eyes stayed fixed in front of him as he nodded. "I'm fine."

She laid her head sleepily on his shoulder and let her arms wrap loosely around his middle in a light hug. "Dream?"

He nodded. "Did I wake you up?"

Stifling a yawn, she closed her eyes and muttered back, "Nope. You're not the only one with stupid dreams."

He took a deep breath, and as he exhaled, she could feel him relax against her a bit. She kept her tired eyes closed as she kissed his shoulder, which seemed to help him relax more, so she trailed little kisses to his neck. She felt his hand cover one of hers as he turned his head her way, and she drew back an inch or two look at him as clearly as she could in the dark room. "You're not gonna be up the rest of the night, are you?"

He shrugged slightly. "I usually am."

That's what she figured, but it still made her frown all the same. She could usually fall asleep within an hour after her nightmares, but she also put hers on an entirely different level than the kind she knew that Bucky had. His were surely in a class all of their own.

After looking at her for a few moments, he leaned forward slowly and placed a light, barely-there kiss on her lips, which gave her an idea. She'd gotten him to sleep once already that night, so surely she could do it again. After he pulled away, she kissed him again, gently but with more purpose than his had expressed. He didn't object or hesitate to kiss her back, though she did detect a flicker of surprise on his face when she shifted to the side so she could gently lead him back down to the bed before crawling in top of him. The sheet was still annoyingly in the way, but she didn't think much about it as she kissed him again, more insistently this time as his hands went to her waist.

It might have been a bandaid on a problem that went far beyond her ability to fix, but if it bought him a few more hours of the paltry sleep that he was used to, then there was little that she wouldn't do to see it happen. And besides, after a week or two of getting used to the new intimacy between them, she knew how he was in the middle of the night - slower, lazier, maybe a little sweeter too, and it was more than worth losing sleep for.

He peeled away the unnecessary sheet from between them as she broke away to take a breath after the kisses grew dizzying with his growing desire, and then he flipped them over easily, making her smile as he kissed her again and again, her attempts at distracting him apparently a great success.

"If you're trying to help me sleep, I don't know that this is the best way," he murmured between kisses.

She smiled and pulled him closer, suddenly not feeling all that tired anymore. "Oh well. Can't hurt."

* * *

At breakfast the following morning, Bucky found himself leaning back comfortably in his chair at the table, coffee in hand, watching Summer playfully convince her son to eat by pretending his fork was some kind of enemy alien spacecraft and eating the food on it was the only way to conquer evil. She was dressed for work, in a knee-length pale yellow dress that looked both youthful and professional, and though half of her hair was up, one errant piece kept falling into her eyes, and he found it entirely too distracting. Just a few hours ago, the same lock of hair had been falling into her eyes under much more... strenuous circumstances, and somehow now, that small detail was the one to bring all the others together and leave him in a state of awe.

This woman, who he credited with saving his life, was utterly incredible. Not only was she a big part of the reason why he was where he was in life, but she was so much more than that, and he knew she didn't see it. But, to Bucky, falling asleep tangled up with her every night and then watching her rise with the sun, put herself together, cook a breakfast that usually fed him as well as herself and her son, and function the way that she did while balancing so much on her plate - it was nothing short of amazing.

He just wished that she'd believe him when he told her.

After a bit, she leaned away from David, happy with the amount of food that he'd eaten, and glanced Bucky's way. As their eyes met, he took a sip of his coffee, and her smile slowly softened as a blush came to her cheeks. He loved that she still blushed like that sometimes seemingly without a clear trigger. He hoped she never stopped.

"Any plans today?" she asked, working on her own coffee after brushing aside the hair that had again fallen into her eye.

He shrugged slightly. "Not sure yet."

"Well, I have a short shift today, so maybe when I get off -"

Summer trailed off when the loud ding of an elevator across the room alerted them both to the building's owner making an appearance. Bucky set his cup down and took to staring at it, knowing that Tony Stark still barely tolerated his presence - and for very understandable reason - and keeping his head down and mouth shut was usually what he did around him.

"All right Avengers and Aveng-ettes - well, Aveng-ette singular - who wants to hear the good news?"

It was then that Bucky realized how much more crowded the room was than he'd originally noticed. It was out of character to not have a head count of who was in the room at any given time - had he really been that wrapped up in watching Summer just feed her kid?

"Aveng-ette?" Natasha repeated incredulously from the kitchen, peeling an orange on the counter. "Really?"

"Yeah, trying it out," Tony shrugged, looking entirely too hopped up and energetic for the hour that it was. "So. Big news. As of today - in exactly two hours - I am closing a deal with the city that will make it the first clean energy city in the world. What I did for the building, we're doing for all of New York City. This is huge, obviously. World changing stuff here. History in the making and all that."

"That's great," Steve said, a few feet away from Natasha, though he seemed a bit confused as to what this news had to do with them.

"I know I am, thanks," Tony smiled back. "So, naturally, in light of this, I'm throwing a party the size of Manhattan itself. And you're all invited. It's in a week. Bring a date. Or don't. Just come and help me celebrate... me."

While that got a collective groan and laugh from everyone, Bucky glanced at Summer and found her chuckling but also noticeably anxious now. While the others continued to talk, Bucky asked her quietly, "Whats wrong?"

"Nothing," she answered far too quickly to be truthful. Then she paused and added quietly, "It's just... I work here now and I've never been to a... work party, you know? And this means I probably have to go buy a dress and then I'll have to actually go to this thing and... talk to people..." He grinned as she visibly shuddered at that.

"Did I hear you say 'buy a dress'?" Natasha asked, suddenly dropping herself down across the table, in the seat next to David. The boy glanced up at her and then shrunk as far away from her as he could while still remaining in the chair - apparently, he still found her terrifying.

"Yeah," Summer frowned. "Dress shopping is the worst."

"Why? You've got an easy figure to dress."

Summer scoffed. "Are you kidding me? With these things?" She gestured to her chest and said, "They're either about to fall out or they're smashed and I can't breathe. It's miserable."

Bucky stifled a grin, finishing his coffee to mask it. Natasha shrugged and said, "Then you're not trying on the right things. How about I come with you? I need to pick up a few things anyway."

Summer's eyes widened a little and she briefly stuttered, "Really? I mean - really? You don't have to if you don't want -"

"Take it easy. I offered," Natasha pointed out, standing up from the seat. "Besides, I thought maybe you're ready for those pointers we talked about before."

Pointers? Bucky caught Natasha's eye as she walked away, then turned to Summer and asked, "Pointers?"

"Yeah, it's... nothing," Summer shrugged unconvincingly, cheeks suddenly flushed again. But Bucky was no fool; there was only a limited number of things that Natasha would offer Summer "pointers" on. "Just um... girl... stuff."

He raised an eyebrow. "Girl stuff."

"Girls who... date... super soldiers with super stamina... stuff." She then cleared her throat, smiled overly brightly, and said, "Okay - I've gotta get David downstairs before I'm late."

Though Bucky was suddenly a bit concerned as to what kind of "talk" such a thing entailed - maybe some kind of variation on that highly awkward but very entertaining conversation he'd had with Steve on the subject? - he let it go for now, leaning back when she got up and leaned down to give him a quick but sweet kiss goodbye.

"Love you," she whispered before she pulled away, and he smiled before repeating the words to her just as quietly and letting her go. He wasn't used to those words yet, and for that matter, he wasn't used to the new level that they'd taken their relationship to, but it wasn't a bad thing. Feeling that little twinge of surprise and warmth every time he heard those words or woke up to the feeling of her body entwined with his with nothing in between was something he wasn't ready to lose yet.

He watched her gather hers and David's things with a practiced ease, hustling them both to the elevator and then disappearing, leaving him to whatever his own day held in store for him. He didn't know what that was yet, but he got an idea of it when he got up to rinse his cup in the kitchen sink and was asked by Steve, "So, are you gonna go?"

"Go to what?" Bucky asked, turning off the water and setting the cup aside.

"Stark's party. With Summer."

He stared at Steve blankly for a moment before muttering, "Am I supposed to?"

Steve laughed a little and said, "I know you've gotten enough of your memory back to know the answer to that question."

"Yeah, but... I figured... because of Stark..."

"He said everybody was invited," Steve pointed out.

"I can't cover this up very well anymore," Bucky pointed out, holding up his metal hand and letting it drop. "Might stand out a little."

"Actually... guess what kind of holographic gizmo Natasha brought with her back to the tower yesterday."

Bucky sighed. "I just... I don't know. Crowds aren't my thing."

"No, but Summer's going. And you can just imagine the kind of attention she'll get, especially if Natasha's taking her shopping later."

"You heard that," Bucky muttered.

"I did," Steve nodded. "And speaking of that - I'm guessing you'll need a few new things too."

Bucky very nearly paled at the mere mention of shopping again, after his last retail experience. "I'll figure something out."

Steve shook his head. "You have... jeans and... leather... things. You don't have a suit."

"I'm not shopping again."

"Why? It wasn't that bad."

"It was that bad," Bucky argued. "And I'm sure you have something that I could fit into."

"That's beside the point," Steve shrugged. "Come on. It'll be fun. Shopping day for everyone."

"Shopping day?" a voice boomed from behind Steve, and Bucky almost rolled his eyes as Thor strolled up and injected himself into the conversation. "What is this shopping day? Is it another Midgardian holiday?"

"No," Steve chuckled. "I was just convincing Bucky here to go shopping with me today. For Stark's party."

"Ah, yes, the party," Thor grinned. "Would you mind if I came along? For this... shopping?"

Steve looked at Bucky, who momentarily panicked at the thought before realizing there was nothing to panic about, and after Bucky shrugged, Steve replied, "Sure!"

"Wonderful!" Thor grinned brightly. "I must look my best, since I plan to invite my lady to this party. When shall we depart?"

"Uh..."

"Depart where?"

Now Bucky really did roll his eyes, this time at Clint's sudden interruption. The archer seemed to show up once weekly now, and he'd been at the tower since the night before.

"Shopping," Steve replied.

"Sweet. I'll tag along."

Steve paused, however, and looking around the group, said, "Is this a good idea? I mean, we could be pretty conspicuous just walking around town, going to store to store."

Thor's expression grew mildly more serious and Bucky thought Steve had a point, but Clint merely glanced around them before plucking a pair of sunglasses from the pocket of his shirt and slipping them on before asking, "You were saying?"

"I can still recognize you," Steve replied.

"Says the guy who thinks a baseball hat is a legitimate disguise," Clint retorted.

Bucky wasn't sure if he could take an entire day of this, without the peace and quiet of his room to retreat to when it started to grate on his nerves, but a voice in his head - one that was rather linked with his recently recovered memories and his old self - instantly reminded him that he was acting his chronological age, not his age in actual years lived. He could do this. It might not be fun, but he'd do it.

"All right, well, we need to look... normal. Let's try to just get out and get back with as little incident as possible," Steve decreed, ever the Captain whether in uniform or not.

"Whatever you say, Cap," Clint said, walking away, while Thor followed him with a confused expression before asking what a baseball hat was and if he could have one.

Alone again, Steve glanced at Bucky and shrugged. "Well. This should be fun."

Bucky just grimaced and muttered, "As long as we don't go back to that one store, I'm fine."

Steve nodded solemnly, not needing any further elaboration. "Right. No problem."

* * *

Ignoring the urge to check her phone for what was already the thousandth time, Summer took a deep breath and tried to focus on the task at hand: shopping for a party dress with one of the world's most skilled assassins. Because that was totally the sort of thing that was normal for her life now.

David was back at the tower, still in the childcare room as per his usual routine at this time of the day, and she had reluctantly decided to leave him there while she shopped. It was best for everyone involved, especially David, but being so physically far away from him was not pleasant or helpful to her anxiety levels. Still, she made her best effort to put it out of her head and stop checking her phone as Natasha led her into the first store.

"Ready to meet your doom?" Natasha asked over her shoulder as they walked inside.

"I get the feeling you've said that before under much less mundane circumstances," Summer replied, though she very much felt like she was indeed meeting her doom.

"Maybe," Natasha shrugged, stopping to survey the store that lay before them. "So, I'm not really a fan of shopping either. I like to get in, get what I need, and get out. Did you have anything in mind for what you want?"

Looking around helplessly at the clothes that surrounded her vision, Summer sighed and gave a shrug. "Honestly... I don't know. I guess I'd like to look... nice, since I've got a guy to impress now and all, but..."

Natasha turned and furrowed her brows. "Nice?"

Summer met her gaze and muttered, "Okay.. sexy, I guess. But not too sexy. Professional sexy."

"Easy," Natasha grinned. "Follow me."

Doubting that it could possibly be easy, Summer followed her towards the middle of the store, hoping that the store was even in her budget. She was terrified to even glance at the price tags, because the place seemed pretty nice.

"What's he like on you?" Natasha asked as they walked.

"Um... you know, as far as clothes, I'm not really sure. Besides that he likes them off." She then paused and quickly added, "He's got a thing for shoes."

Natasha looked back at her, expression mildly intrigued. "Really?"

Summer nodded. "And my hair. But the shoe thing is... yeah. Leather boots, high heels. He loves it. It's almost weird. But good weird."

"Interesting. I'll keep that in mind."

Then, Summer watched nervously as Natasha started looking through a rack of dresses, and she thumbed through a few herself, trying to make the effort but failing for the most part. Oh, how she hated shopping. A few numbers caught her eye, but they were either too expensive or too... not her for one reason or another.

A familiar sense of frustration was setting in, but before she could give up, Natasha suddenly said from behind another rack, "How about this?", and then Summer looked up to find the woman holding up something that she at first thought for sure had to be a joke.

... It was a joke, right?

Apparently not. Natasha handed it to her and said, "Try it on."

"I... but... you're serious?" Summer asked incredulously, looking from the dress to Natasha and back again. "This is..."

"Sexy, but still appropriate for a company party at Stark Tower," Natasha remarked.

"But... I'm... my boobs are gonna be... like... out, basically."

"Just try it on before you start panicking," Natasha sighed, physically taking her arm and steering her towards a fitting room.

"But..."

"Try it first," Natasha smiled before stuffing her into the dressing room and closing the door on her. Summer sighed and looked down at the dress in her hands, holding it up to inspect it more carefully before shaking her head and putting it down so that she could try it on and get it over with.

"It's like the typical 'little black dress' on crack," she muttered, quickly undressing and discarding the pale yellow dress she still wore. "This is so not gonna work."

Once the dress was on - which was not something that came without a fair amount of struggle - she turned around and looked in the mirror, and then almost laughed at her reflection. She was too busy staring with a slightly open mouth to laugh.

Behind her, the door opened after there was a brief knock, and Natasha glanced inside first before grinning and opening the door wider. "See? I know what I'm talking about."

"I... can't... wear this," Summer shook her head. "I'm a mother, I'm... me. I don't look like this."

"Really? Because I'm pretty sure you do," Natasha pointed out. "And besides, there's no rule against mothers being sexy."

"But..."

"Just think about the look he'll have on his face when he sees you in this," Natasha said. "Especially with a great pair of heels."

"... Are the boobs too much?" Summer asked a little timidly, looking at Nat's reflection in the mirror.

"Absolutely not," Natasha assured her. "Still perfectly tasteful. Which I'm sure he will agree with, just in a different way. Now get dressed, because I know just the place to find you some heels at."

And just like that, Summer was buying a dress that she never would have thought she'd ever wear - which turned out to be on sale, lucky for her wallet - and then following her new shopping buddy to a shoe store that made her nearly salivate from the moment she stepped inside.

Summer was used to having only what she needed as far as her wardrobe went, after years of living very frugally and always putting her son's needs first, so she'd never been the girl with a closet full of shoes. This store, however, suddenly made her see the appeal in such an idea, and in suffering for the sake of wearing the sort of fabulous footwear dazzling her eyes.

"Oh man... if only I could wear this stuff without my feet falling off..." she said dreamily, mostly to herself. She owned one pair of black heels that she'd bought for her job, but they weren't over three inches, and she had a hard enough time staying upright in those.

"You can," Natasha said, eyeing a number of shoes displayed on one of the walls of the store. "You just have to know how."

"Well," Summer sighed, eyes currently feasting on a pair of glittery black platform heels, "I definitely don't know how."

"I can show you. It's easier than it looks."

"I find that hard to bel-... oh, my gosh..."

Sitting innocently and all alone on top of a little glass display table was one of the most gorgeous pairs of shoes Summer had ever seen before, and they just so happened to go perfectly with the dress she was toting under her arm. Ivory, rounded toe platform pumps with a black lace detail over the toes of the shoes, and heels that were nothing short of sky high.

"These are... perfect..."

Next to her, Natasha inclined her head as she looked over the shoes and agreed, "Perfect for a girl dating a guy with a shoe fetish."

Summer laughed and picked one of the shoes up delicately. "These are so high, though. I'd break my ankle."

"Try them on," Nat replied. "I'll give you a quick lesson in how to not break your ankle."

She doubted that she could be taught to walk in remotely the same way that Natasha regularly did in her heels, but Summer dutifully and gratefully went along with it and put her things down before slipping the heels on. It was a bit hard to even stand in them and stay steady.

"Okay, so walk naturally, so that I know what to correct," Natasha instructed.

Summer nodded and started walking. Three steps in, she nearly tripped over her own feet, and Natasha said, "First of all, you're keeping your legs bent. Walk like you would in anything else and straighten your legs with each step."

"Okay," Summer said, finding the advice easier said than done as she turned and kept walking.

"Also, posture. You're not an ogre."

She laughed and kept going. "Okay,"

After a few more seconds, Natasha added, "You've got to sort of swing your hips as you go to balance the heels."

"Swing my - seriously?"

"Seriously. Trust me."

Grumbling internally because hip-swinging was not something she considered herself even a novice at, Summer took a breath and tried to do as Natasha said, feeling ridiculous but wanting to do whatever it took to make the shoes work. Once she got over the self-ridicule, however, and began really trying, she realized that she was actually doing it, and walking halfway decently in shoes that she never would have suspected she could actually pull off. A bit more time to break them in, and she might actually be able to do this.

"Holy crap, Natasha - you're a miracle worker," Summer grinned joyously, sitting down to take the shoes off now that she felt confident enough to actually buy them. "Thank you!"

"Well, that's a new one," Natasha chuckled. "But you're welcome."

"This has actually been fun," she smiled, standing up after slipping her flats back on and gathering her things back under her arm. "I thought it would be torture."

"Like I said," Natasha said as they began walking to the front of the store, "my shopping trips are efficient."

"It's great. I should shop with you more often."

Summer said that as an afterthought, but Natasha glanced at her and replied, "I wouldn't mind that."

"Really?" Summer asked in surprise before she could help it. "I mean, I still didn't think that you liked me very much. Not that I think you're a jerk or anything, but -"

"I never disliked you," Nat replied, thankfully shutting her up. "All I ever did was try to remind you - and Steve - that you weren't exactly stepping into a safe or stable situation. He's very... idealistic sometimes. And he's got a blind spot the size of the Atlantic when it comes to Barnes. I try to be the voice of reason."

Behind a few customers who were paying for their items, Summer nodded. "Yeah... that makes sense. I would have thought I was insane too."

Natasha chuckled softly. "Sanity's relative. That wasn't my concern. I guess you could say that I've more than had my fill of watching bad things happen to good people. You seemed like a good person. Actually reminded me of Steve a little bit."

Summer's eyes widened. "Really?"

"Neither of you trust easily but you want to see the best in people," Natasha explained. "Especially one person in particular."

Summer nodded. "He wouldn't have thought that he had any kind of good in him at all if he didn't have us telling him so. I know that what I did for him could have gotten me killed and probably would have if it had been anyone else from... you know where," Summer said, unwilling to say HYDRA out loud in public. "But he just... seemed like he needed a break for once, you know? And a chance to be... himself. Better."

"Yeah," Natasha said lightly, but judging by the contemplative look on her face, Summer suspected that Natasha knew quite a bit about second chances. "Still curious though as to when it turned into more than that."

Summer tried to stop herself from grinning and said, "Well, he did like to walk around my house shirtless and wet sometimes, and I hadn't been around an attractive male since before my kid was born." At the roll of Natasha's eyes, Summer laughed and said, "No, I'm really not sure myself. It was gradual. Kind of snuck up on me, actually. The first time he saved my life, I was in shock after and I wasn't really aware of what I was doing completely... he was cleaning a couple of cuts I had and I just... kissed him. I didn't think it would lead to anything. I thought he'd go with Steve and I'd never hear from either of them again."

"And now here you are," Natasha replied.

"Here I am," Summer sighed, looking around the store, finding it all truly remarkable. Getting here hadn't been easy or without a good amount of loss, but so far, it had all been worth it. She'd gotten miraculously lucky.

"So," Natasha said casually as they continued to wait for the line to move, "need any of those pointers yet?"

Summer laughed a little nervously and then said, "Well, unless you have any suggestions for how to stay quiet besides almost suffocating myself with a pillow..."

"Just ask Stark to soundproof your room," Natasha shrugged. "Where's the fun in staying quiet?"

"I... well," Summer shrugged, unable to come up with an answer for that. "True."

"One thing I've noticed," Natasha said as they stepped forward after another customer was done, "Steve doesn't always sleep so well either. And with the serum they both have, from what he's told me, the energy levels are ridiculous. That's why they both work out so much even though they technically don't need to. They have to burn the energy."

"Okay," Summer said, following quietly.

"So, for Steve, a particularly... vigorous workout before bed helps him sleep better," Natasha said quietly with a slight grin. "Maybe you could try the same thing."

Blushing a little, Summer managed to reply, "Well, I mean, Bucky's pretty... 'vigorous' as it is. Much more vigorous and I'm pretty sure I'd end up paralyzed."

"That's not necessarily what I mean. What I'm saying is, take it out of the bed. Be adventurous. You've got a super soldier with incredible strength and skill - take advantage of it."

Face approaching roughly the color of a nearby pair of strappy red heels, Summer half-whispered, "You mean like... against a wall and... stuff like that?"

Natasha chuckled as they came up next in line to finally buy the shoes. "You really do have a lot to learn."

* * *

"Told you nobody would recognize us," Clint said smugly as Steve led the way into a busy menswear shop on a busy street corner. Bucky followed next, and finally Thor, who seemed mostly content just to be there and to watch the city around him like it was something fascinating and not just a hugely populated city full of people who didn't care enough to spare any of them a second glance that particular day.

"Well, guess I'm harder to recognize when I'm not wearing red white and blue," Steve shrugged, holding the door open.

Thor, the last one through, nodded to Steve and then said, "Yes, though I have noticed a fair number of young maidens looking at me strangely. But they do not seem to know who I am."

Clint turned around, still wearing his sunglasses, and said, "Women here tend to check at tall, well-built guys with hair out of a L'Oreal commercial when they see them."

"Hair out of a what?" Thor asked with brows furrowed as Steve sighed at the prospect of having to explain yet another reference to the Asgardian, though he did secretly enjoy having someone around who was more clueless than him on a regular basis.

Ditching the others, Bucky started wandering around the store on his own, heading towards a section that held the sort of nicer clothes that he was looking for. It felt strange having his left hand out without a glove over it, but Natasha's unexpected supplying of another holographic cover for it was a welcomed development. Now he just had to get used to looking down and seeing his hand as it should have looked.

He walked past a few mannequins, one wearing a dark blue suit and another wearing a black one, but before he could give much thought as to what color to try, he heard a very familiar, slightly high voice come wafting from a few feet away into his ear, and he stopped in his tracks. Could he really be that unlucky?

"Hi there, what can I help you find tod-... wait a minute, I remember you!"

Did this guy work at every men's store in New York City?

Bucky turned around, not bothering to hide the confusion on his face as he and the sales associate he remembered as "Esteban" came face to face yet again. The man held up his hands and smiled as he said in his spicy foreign accent, "I know what you're thinking, and yes, I work too much. But who in this economy can get by with only one job, yes? But enough about that - what can I help you find today? I never forget a face, and yours is especially memorable. How was the date?"

Unsure which question to answer or if he should just ignore them both and run as fast as he could, Bucky floundered for a minute before Steve and his impeccable timing showed up at his side. "Hey, Bucky, there's a..."

Steve trailed off as Esteban's eyes grew larger and full of delight just before he said, "Ah, so the date went well, I take it? Of course it did - look at you two, how could it not?"

A few racks of clothes away, Clint slowly turned his head towards the scene and dropped his sunglasses a bit down the bridge of his nose to get a better look at what he instantly knew was the funniest thing he'd seen all day. Thor was too busy trying to figure out what a fedora was and how one was meant to wear it to notice anything.

"Oh... yeah," Steve began awkwardly, blinking too much as Bucky merely fought giving the biggest eye-roll of his life, "we're not - we aren't - uh..."

Looking vaguely like he'd just discovered that his favorite band had just called it quits, Esteban's face fell. "No? This is true? But I always have such a good eye for these things. Are you sure?"

Clint choked and covered it with a cough, and Bucky sent him an icy glare as Steve laughed uneasily. "Pretty sure, yeah."

"I see. Ah, well, c'est la vie, I suppose," Esteban shrugged. "Score one for the ladies, yes?"

Seeing his way out as Steve continued to stand there and chuckle, Bucky tried to turn and dart away, only to be foiled by Esteban instantly scolding, "You cannot leave until Esteban works his magic again, darling!"

Stopping once again in his tracks and cringing, Bucky cursed the day this man emigrated to the United States and turned around with a forced smile on his face, pointedly ignoring Clint, who needed a bag of popcorn to complete his utterly entertained visage.

Best to just get this over with. And the guy really did know what he was doing. "I need a suit. For a party."

"What kind of party?"

"A... work party. Not my work."

"Are you a plus one?" Esteban asked.

Bucky stared for a moment before muttering, "It's a Tony Stark party."

"Ah!" Esteban exclaimed. "Say no more! Follow me!"

After giving Steve a look that was a mix of resignation and irritation, Bucky followed the man deeper into the more formal section, and before he knew it, Esteban was invading his personal space like he had the first time to measure him again, and when he turned his eyes around the store just to glare at anything that he could, he found that Clint was following at a distance, that entertained by it all. He liked the archer, but at the moment, he wouldn't mind an arrow of his own to fling at him.

"Okay," Esteban said after measuring, walking around a couple more mannequins, "here is what I am thinking... you like the dark look, yes?"

"Uh... I... guess," Bucky shrugged. The black jeans and dark blue shirt he wore - both of which were from his initial encounter with Esteban - seemed to confirm that.

"Right, so I am thinking, let's try something different. Let's try... this."

Bucky glanced up at the mannequin Esteban was gesturing to, and he saw an ivory suit with a white shirt beneath, and a bright purple tie under the collar. It was very... not dark, to be sure.

"But since you're going to a party by the legendary Tony Stark, and we all know what kind of party he throws, we will leave the tie off. What do you think?"

Before he could formulate an answer or even start thinking of one, Esteban had grabbed all of the needed pieces and was strutting ahead of him towards the dressing room. He followed, assuming that the suit would be fine so long as that purple tie wasn't a part of it, and at least this time he wasn't stuffing himself into leather pants and boots that he could barely move in.

But, on the way to the dressing room, a particular blonde patron who was staring at a small box containing cuff links as if it contained a great unknown mystery caught Esteban's attention, who asked without breaking his stride, "Can I help you, sir?"

Thor looked up and put the box down, looking from Esteban to Bucky and then back again before smiling brightly and shaking his head. "Oh, no, I am fine, but thank you."

Esteban opened his mouth to reply, but then he took a second look at Thor and then came to a stop. Stopping as well, Bucky looked up at the man and then glanced at Thor, who was also seemingly caught in the odd three-way glances, and just as the silence and the looks started to get quite awkward, Esteban suddenly slapped a hand to his chest and gasped dramatically. "Oh my God."

Bucky, Thor, Clint, and a little farther away, Steve, as well as several other customers, all stopped and held their breath for whatever would come next.

What came next was a flurry of words in Spanish that came so fast that all Bucky could catch was "alien sex god" and "best day of my life". By the time Esteban reverted to English, Thor looked rather alarmed and Steve had suddenly reappeared at Bucky's side, as if this meant his presence was suddenly needed.

"You - you are Thor!" Esteban whispered before clapping his hand over his mouth and looking at Steve. "And I know you too! You're -"

"Trying to fly under the radar," Steve said very quietly, "if you don't mind."

Nodding enthusiastically, Esteban smiled and started fanning himself with the employee badge around his neck. "Of course, of course! I can't believe I didn't recognize you before!" He then turned back to Thor and said reverently, "But you... you are my favorite!"

Now it was Bucky's turn to sit back and grin, as one of Thor's biggest fans advanced on him while whisper-talking a mile a minute and making him smile nervously and squint in an attempt to actually understand what was being said. Clint had long surpassed being entertained and was possibly filming everything on his phone, and even Steve was pretty amused by this point.

"... And it is just incredible! I am beside myself!" Esteban rambled. Then he gasped shortly and said, "Let me dress you! It would be an honor for me, please! In fact, I already know exactly how I would dress you - I would -"

Clearing his throat slightly, Bucky said, "So, can I just... walk in one of the dressing rooms and..."

Esteban waved dismissively without looking behind him and said, "Yes yes, of course. Anyway - so you wear this glorious red cape, and it is absolutely gorgeous - what's it made of? Never mind - and I was thinking, we just got this brand new, beautiful long burgundy coat in, and it would look absolutely divine on you..."

Quite thankful for Thor at the moment, Bucky grinned at Steve before heading to the dressing room as planned, while Esteban dragged Thor towards a different corner of the store to show him the coat he spoke so highly of.

"So from now on, we bring Thor so he can take the attention and we can get what we need done," Steve said as Bucky walked past him.

"Agreed."

And maybe, since the ivory suit ended up being perfect and Thor ultimately found the red coat just as divine as Esteban had, if the Avengers ever needed to find a personal stylist, they'd know where to look.

Just before they left the store, after the purchases had been made and Esteban was wishing his new favorite people good luck and a good rest of the day, he eyed Clint a bit suspiciously and asked, "Don't I know you too?"

Clint merely pushed his sunglasses up and looked ahead as he walked away, not wanting any part of fangasms that the others had endured. "Nope."

Once they had left, Esteban turned and slumped slightly against the cash register, looking up at the ceiling and saying dreamily in Spanish, "Now, when I die someday, I shall die not only the most fabulous man who has ever lived, but also the happiest."

* * *

A bit later that day, after Summer and the rest of the shopping Avengers had returned to the tower, Summer grabbed David from the childcare room only to immediately lose his attention to Steve and receive a call from her brother.

"Yeah, yeah, now hang on, because my phone's about to die and I have to go get my charger," Summer said into her phone, leaving David in the living room as he fought an intense sword battle with Steve, who was ever the eternal good sport. She smiled at the sight and then headed down the hallway, towards Bucky's room, where she was fairly sure the charger was, since she'd been spending most of her nights in his room these days.

"Uh huh. So how are things?" Paul asked cheerfully.

She rolled her eyes a bit, reaching Bucky's door and grabbing the doorknob. "You mean am I pregnant yet."

"Well, yes. Are you?"

"Nope, and I'm not gonna be anytime soon," she informed her brother as she stepped inside the empty bedroom. As far as she knew, Bucky was downstairs in the gym with Sam and possibly Thor, so she didn't think twice about running in to look for the elusive charger. It took her a moment to remember that she'd actually left it in his bathroom, which was where she'd showered that morning.

"That's what you think," Paul replied. "Did you know Sarah was on the shot when she got pregnant with our twins? Nothing is 100% reliable."

"Yeah, well, nobody in the world is as fertile as her," Summer pointed out, heading across the floor towards the bathroom, "so I think I'm good."

"What kind of kid would you guys have, anyway? Some like superpowered baby who would literally punch its way out of you?"

Her eyes widened a little as she reached for the bathroom door. "Uh... you know, I don't know, but I sure hope not."

"Might want to find that out."

She opened the door and walked in. "I'll make a mental note to ask, although I'd bet nobody has a clue one way or the other."

Quickly locating the charger on the spacious bathroom sink, she walked to it and reached out to grab it. As her hand closed around the charging port, however, she heard a wholly unexpected splashing sound come from behind her, and she quickly glanced up at the mirror and promptly squeaked - loudly - as she realized that the bathroom wasn't nearly as empty as she thought.

Her mouth dropped open a bit as she watched Bucky's head pop up from the water, his eyes closed at first as he brushed his soaked hair back with his hand, and then his eyes opened and immediately landed on her. He looked confused for a split second, maybe more surprised than anything, but a grin quickly spread across his face. "Hey."

"... Hi," she said quietly, smiling back a little, and while she couldn't remember why she was there, she was suddenly glad that she was.

On the other end of the line, Paul said, "Hi. I thought we'd gotten past that point of the conversation."

"Oh, that wasn't... for you," she muttered, locked helplessly in a mutual staring contest with the man in the tub, who had reclined his head against the edge behind him and hand an arm dangling casually outside of the tub. His grin hadn't left his face, and she was vaguely aware of how she was chewing her lip as she stared shamelessly.

"Oh ew, I know what that tone means. I'll be hanging up now."

"Seriously?" she asked in mild exasperation. "How could you possibly know -"

"You have a certain way of speaking when you're... yeah. It's pretty obvious, actually."

She rolled her eyes, breaking the eye contact. "Oh please. I could have totally just been saying hi to a janitor just now."

"You know who's gotten a job as a janitor now? Cool. Better than his last gig for sure."

Then she heard the water rustling again, and she looked up to see Bucky sitting up and away from his reclined position. He still had his eyes on her, and she had the feeling that there was a bit of purpose in his gaze, but all thoughts went out the window and into oblivion when he unexpectedly stood up from the water.

Her jaw resting comfortably on the floor, her eyes shot down and away from his face almost immediately - though surely nobody could blame her - and then proceeded to shoot up and down the length of his body as he causally stepped out of the tub, without a hint of shame anywhere to be found. She heard Paul saying something but the words meant nothing to her short-circuiting brain, because not only was Bucky wet, naked, and staring at her, but he was walking right towards her, and she suspected that this may, in fact, be how she died.

"Helloooo, Earth to Summer."

She never got to respond to her brother's chiding, because Bucky was then in her personal space. He reached up and took her phone from her hand, hit the "end call" button, carefully plugged it into the wall without dripping water on the phone or the charger, and all the while, his eyes never left hers. And her mouth never closed.

"You ought to close your mouth before something ends up inside of it."

Oh, how she both loved and hated the ever-growing return of his old personality.

In any case, it did the trick of making her mouth close, because she choked slightly while he grinned at her reaction.

"Except you seem to like it when that happens."

On the verge of screaming, she laughed nervously instead and said, "Are you actually trying to kill me? Because you're - hey, what are you..."

She looked down as he started casually undressing her, starting with her jeans. "You're getting in with me," he informed her, leaving no room for negotiation.

"But..." the jeans came off, and then he was tugging on her shirt, which she let him pull from her without protest. "David's..."

"With Steve, right?"

"Well, yeah, but..."

He reached behind her and then off came her bra, which he tossed to the floor as he said, "Exactly. So I'm not giving you a choice."

"Uh... okay," she said dumbly as he pulled away the last bit of fabric from her body and then made her squeal again by picking her up and carrying her to the bathtub.

The tub, which was huge and resembled the old fashioned kind that she'd never had the good fortune of taking a bath in until now, was the perfect size to accommodate them both. He set her in first, and she drew a breath at the hotter-than-expected water as he slid in behind her. She barely had time to process any of it before he pulled her back against his chest and pressed a kiss to the side of her neck.

"I thought you were working out," she said, closing her eyes as the arm around her waist loosened and a warm hand slid up and over her stomach in favor of getting a handful of an ample breast. He always went there first, and she kind of loved it.

"I might be about to," he said, trailing his lips up near her ear, and she groaned while he just grinned.

Then he was taking her hair down from her ponytail, and as the ends of the dark strands hit the water, he said, "You should keep your hair like this all the time."

"Half wet and plastered to your chest?" she guessed, leaning back and glancing up at him as his hand began a slow journey downward.

"I was gonna say down, but yeah, that works too."

"Mm hmm. So how was shopping?" she asked, closing her eyes and letting herself relax.

"... Let's not talk about it," Bucky muttered, which made her chuckle.

"Oh, come on, it couldn't be that bad," she smiled, but he showed no signs of relenting, and his hands were starting to get particularly distracting. She let out a sigh and said, "I don't know what you'll like more... the dress I got or the shoes..."

She felt light stubble brushing her cheek as his lips pressed a soft kiss to her jaw, and then another. "Show me later and I'll tell you."

She shook her head. "Nope. It's all a surprise. But I will tell you one thing," she said, leaning back to give him a smile. "The heels are super high. Higher than those boots you liked on me so much."

He didn't bother to hide his responding light groan, and he began kissing just under her ear as he replied lowly, "Tease."

She chuckled, and then his metal hand reached around to angle her head back for him to kiss her. He wasted no time in kissing her deeply, making her head spin with the skilled sliding of his tongue with hers, and she hoped that she never got used to any of it, that nothing he did ever failed to pull such instant reactions from the depths of her being.

With little prompting from him, she gave in to the desire she'd felt from the moment she'd watched his head emerge from the water, and turned around to face him and straddle his lap in the water. His hands went to her hips and hers tangled in his wet hair, her heart thudding as he moaned into her mouth in the heat of the kiss. His hands grinding her down against his need for her, she smiled and broke away for a moment, breathing, "I love how you're never quiet."

"Neither are you," he pointed out with a small grin before dropping his head and directing his kisses to her breasts, which made his point for him as she gasped at the sensation.

Unable to argue, she held his head close and closed her eyes, relishing his hungry mouth and trying hard to keep the noises inside just to prove to him that she could stay quiet if she really wanted to. It wasn't easy, but she managed to rein it in even as he started pulling out all the stops, doing all the things he knew would make her moan that he could do in their current position short of pulling her fully down on him. But she kept her mouth shut, and eventually, he looked up at her in surprise.

She grinned and said, "See? I have self control."

"Oh," he chuckled, "do you?"

She nodded, though something in his eyes suddenly made her a bit nervous, in a good way. Maybe she'd stepped a bit too far, because she knew full well that the last thing she said was completely and hilariously untrue.

He looked her up and down before flexing his fingers slightly on her hips and saying, "I'm gonna have fun making you scream and proving you wrong."

And sure enough, he did, and she loved and hated him all the more for it.

Meanwhile, in the living room, Steve dodged an incoming assault from a foam sword as Natasha reclined on the couch, reading something on her phone as she said, "She's been gone awhile."

"Yeah," Steve replied as David hit his knee with the sword and he faked a terrible injury by clutching his knee and crying out in pain. After, he added, "This has been happening a lot lately."

"I wonder why," Natasha deadpanned.

A moment later, both of the adults in the room stopped what they were doing and looked towards the hallway as the distinct sound of some kind of strangled mix of a moan and a shout hit their ears. Steve covered David's ears with his hands as Natasha smirked and then settled back against the couch, remarking, "Stark should really look into soundproofing that room."

Steve sighed, continuing to protect the poor child's ears as he heard yet another noise, this time a lot more masculine. "If he doesn't, I will."

* * *

"Stay still."

"I am."

"No, you aren't, you're squirming. And stop blinking."

"I'm sorry! I just haven't had anyone else do my makeup since like seventh grade."

Attempting to contain her anxiety and actually sit still despite the nervousness making her fidget nearly uncontrollably, Summer stared up at the ceiling as Natasha put the finishing touches on her eyes. She'd been surprised when Natasha had offered to help her get ready for the party earlier that day, but she welcomed the help with open arms, and she knew she was in absolutely capable hands. If she came away looking half as put together as Natasha did every day of her life, then Summer would be 100% satisfied.

As of that moment, she had gotten into her dress and, also with Natasha's help, fixed her hair into a curled, side-swept style pinned back on one side so that her curls laid over one shoulder. She'd done most of her makeup herself, but Natasha had taken over for the eyes, thus placing her in her current position, which was half-sitting on her bathroom sink while Natasha peered down at her and worked her magic. David was lurking near the doorway, quite suspicious of it all, and very disapproving if his expressions were any indication.

"Are you sure I can pull this off?" Summer asked one last time, closing her eyes as Nat began expertly blending eye shadow on her lids.

"For the last time, yes."

"I know I'm being annoying, I just..."

"Have confidence issues," Natasha surmised. "I understand. But pushing through your comfort zone will help with that."

Summer paused, almost taken aback by that very simple statement, but when she really thought about it, she realized that of course it was true. Years of virtually no social life and her only previous relationship being spectacularly terrible had indeed led to her confidence levels being rather low in general. Bucky and his very clear and sincere appreciation for just about everything about her helped, she supposed, but it was difficult to grasp how incredibly attracted he was to her when she still couldn't quite see why he was.

It wasn't that she thought herself unattractive. She just didn't see herself on the same level as, say, Natasha, or Bucky himself. And it took someone of that level, she thought, to pull off the look she was aiming for tonight.

"Done," Natasha said, interrupting her thoughts, and Summer almost jumped in surprise. She then nodded and slid down from the sink, turning around to examine her reflection and immediately deciding that Natasha must have once been a makeup artist at some point in her very interesting life.

"Is there anything you can't do?" she asked with a grin, making Natasha chuckle as she packed her supplies back into a small bag while Summer tried to get used to how she suddenly looked.

"Well, you have me beat at cooking," Natasha admitted. "But generally, no, there isn't."

Summer smiled and touched the ends of her hair spilling over her shoulder, adjusting the dress and trying to shake off her stubborn anxiety. She needed to carry herself like the woman standing next to her, who was absolutely killing a dress as fiery red as her short hair and looking like she walked straight out of a James Bond movie. It just sucked that she still had no clue how to do such a thing.

"The boys are waiting, so we'd better get going," Natasha said, turning to head out of the bathroom. "We wouldn't want them to fossilize any more than they already have."

Summer laughed nervously, taking a breath and realizing that her shoes were the last step that remained. Taking one last look in the mirror, she turned to follow Natasha out, saying, "Thanks again for all your help. I definitely needed it."

"Not really, but you're welcome," Natasha said, glancing over her shoulder. "You're not as much of a mess as you think you are. Usually."

"Yeah, but... all of this," she gestured to her dress and overall current self, "is not my thing."

"You should make it your thing, then," Natasha shrugged. "Confidence has to come from your own self, nobody can give it to you. And looking your best, putting the extra effort in whether it's a new dress or a pair of heels - doing it for you is what makes the difference. Don't do it for him or anyone else. Do it for yourself. Do what makes you feel good."

"And if it feels more weird and kind of uncomfortable than good?" Summer asked.

"Well, everyone has to start somewhere," Natasha replied. "For now, just get your shoes on and worry more about how you're going to keep a certain metal hand off of you for the next few hours."

"I do love that hand," Summer said absently before turning and locating the shoebox in her closet, noting along the way how David was still lurking and giving Natasha the stink-eye from a different corner of the room. On her way back, he looked at her like a space alien had taken over her body and left an imposter in place, and she couldn't blame him.

Once the shoes were on, she was out of reasons to stall, and after taking a deep breath, she decided it was now or never. Time to be brave.

"All right. Ready."

* * *

Steve was pacing, out of boredom rather than anxiety, and Bucky was leaning against a wall, alternating between staring at the clock, watching Steve piddle about, and looking down at the odd brightness of the suit he was wearing himself. He hadn't quite realized until now how very dark every piece of clothing that he owned was, until every time he looked down he saw the ivory of the suit and the white shirt underneath. But the false image of his left hand underneath the hologram was still more unnerving.

When exactly had it become easier to see the hand as it really was rather than as the flesh that it had once been, in his previous life? Not so long ago he had despised the very sight of the metal and would cover it up even at home, away from prying eyes.

Staring at the hand, he wondered if it was Summer that had caused the change. She had never been shy about her affection for the limb, and now that they had finally stopped forcing abstinence upon themselves, he knew on an even deeper level now how far her appreciation for it ran. He had to admit, it was strange but also sort of fascinating to watch his metal hand cause something other than damage or pain, and even stranger to see - and hear - how much she loved to be touched by it. And she thought he was weird for having a thing for shoes.

"Maybe one of us should go check on them," Steve said after making another lap around the living room.

Bucky shook his head and tried not to roll his eyes. "They'll be ready when they're ready. Stop pacing."

"I'm not pacing."

"You're pacing."

"I'm bored," Steve shrugged, straightening out the jacket of his dark blue suit before sitting down on a couch and sighing. "Sort of want to get this over with."

"Big plans later?" Bucky asked, raising an eyebrow, not really wanting to know the answer.

"Just not a fan of Stark's parties. Not that I've been to one before. But I've heard stories."

Bucky doubted a business-focused party would be that raucous, but then again, what did he know about things like that.

He looked up at the clock again and stifled a sigh. Everyone else had already headed upstairs long ago, including Thor who had been elated to be reunited with Jane Foster, leaving them here to wait for their women. Bucky didn't care much for the party, but he was growing quite anxious to see the dress that Summer had insisted be a surprise. He had no idea what to expect, but he suspected that the night would involve quite a bit of self control on his part and enough glares to keep the eyes of other men off of her.

Just when he was about to give up and maybe try to take a nap to ease his own growing boredom, there was a slight commotion from the hallway, and he heard Natasha's distinct voice quietly admonishing, "Shoulders straight," and a smaller, familiar voice muttering something back. He glanced at Steve, and then they both kept their eyes on the hallway.

Natasha walked out first, dressed in red and putting one high-heeled foot in front of the other like she owned the place, and Bucky couldn't help but glance at Steve just so he could poke fun later at the idiotic look he knew would be on his face. His predication wasn't wrong, but his urge to make fun of him wasn't as strong as he thought it would be. Instead, the moment reminded him of another one long past, where another woman in a different red dress had walked with similar purpose into the room and taken Steve's breath away. The man that Bucky had once been, the one who still existed and was making himself more and more known as more memories were uncovered, was nothing but purely happy for Steve. Even if Bucky could still usually only tolerate Natasha on a good day.

Then there was another noise from the hallway, more clicking of heels against the smooth floor, and Bucky looked up once more. And when another woman stepped out of the hallway and into view, with less confidence than the one before her but with the power to reduce his entire world to just that single moment and nothing else, suddenly, nothing else mattered. Now he understood why she had wanted it to be a surprise.

Her dress was black and short, but not too short. It fit her like it had been sewn directly on her body, and it was no simple black dress: the neckline was low, plunging even, yet tasteful, and on a woman of her... proportions, borderline sinful with the teasing sight that such a neckline provided. But that was far from all; next his eyes travelled lower, to where the fabric cut at the sides to reveal pale, soft skin, then met in the middle and ran down to the bottom of the dress, hitting somewhere near mid-thigh.

He wanted to look back up and stare for as long as it took for all of it to sink in. Instead, he let his eyes keep trailing down her legs, until he got to the shoes, and if he clenched his jaw any tighter, he would potentially risk breaking a bone. Immediately, he had plans for those shoes. He had plans for the dress too. Plans that he wasn't sure he could sit through an entire party to wait for.

Finally, as she approached, he looked back up and took in everything - her nervous smile, her hair that begged for his touch, the determined but clearly strained straight posture she was trying to maintain, and once again, the dress that was already a device of pure torture for him. The whole time, he'd barely moved an inch, hardly even breathing, and the only thing that shocked him back into normal mental function was her sudden onslaught of rambling.

"Is it too much? It's too much, isn't it? I can change if you think -"

"What?" he blurted, snapping his eyes to her face and furrowing his brows as she stopped in front of him.

"The... the dress, it's..."

"It's perfect," he blurted again, the words flying from his mouth almost of their own accord. "You're perfect."

Her alarmed expression softened and she searched his eyes as she said, "Really? I wasn't sure... I thought maybe it wasn't... me, you know..."

He shook his head vehemently, taking a step closer to her. "You're..." he searched for the right word, floundering momentarily before settling on a word, "stunning."

She smiled a little shyly, clearly happy with that word, and then her eyes began a travel of their own down him. "You're wearing... white. Wow."

"Ivory," he shrugged, recalling how strict Esteban had been about the supposed very important difference between white and ivory.

"Ivory," she repeated, nodding and placing her palm on his chest, over his suit jacket. "Yeah... holy crap..."

He couldn't even crack a smile at her words, because he was still utterly stunned. He simultaneously wanted to take her and show her off to world and also hide her away and not let a single other adult male aside from Steve look at her.

"You should wear white more often," she said, taking her hand away slowly. "Because... yeah."

He almost frowned at that, but only because it seemed so inherently wrong for her to be complimenting him when he felt as if he had yet to even truly express how utterly perfect she was.

A throat clearing to their right ended the moment, and Bucky and Summer both glanced to Steve and Natasha as they started heading for the elevator.

"See you both there," Natasha said as they walked away. Bucky looked away to resume staring at Summer, who smiled back a response before stifling a choked laugh once the other couple's backs were turned.

"Did they... color coordinate to look like the American flag?" Summer asked in a whisper, only looking back to Bucky when the palm of his right hand skimmed over the strategically exposed skin of one of her sides.

He didn't say anything, and neither did she, and for one moment, he was seriously considering forgoing the party entirely and simply picking her up and hauling her into his room. But then, a little brunette head appeared from behind her legs, and Bucky realized for the first time that there had been a five year old in the room the whole time.

"I need to drop him off downstairs before we go," Summer said after clearing her throat, a faint blush on her cheeks hinting that her thoughts hadn't been too far from his a moment ago.

He nodded, taking a breath to re-center himself as she reluctantly took a step back, and he moved his hands into his pockets as he watched her take her boy's hand and lead him towards the elevator. Bucky followed them silently and at a safe distance, and he stayed on his very best behavior even as his mental plotting and planning continued on without a hitch.

He didn't say a word during the elevator ride down to the childcare room, which was open that night for a few hours due to the party, and he stayed quiet after she dropped David off and they headed back to the elevator. But, once they were back inside of it and surprisingly alone for the ride up to the top floor, he only waited until the doors closed to drop his feigned calm and do what he had wanted to do since she'd first stepped out of the hallway.

With the ding of the elevator doors and the number above them slowly starting to rise, Bucky turned towards the woman standing at his side and gave her a fraction of a second's worth of warning before sliding his left arm around her waist and using his right hand to carefully slip under her hair and cup her face as he pushed her against the wall behind them. She let out a small noise of surprise as her eyes widened and then closed when he kissed her, the sheer force and drive behind it telling her the same message that his body was as it pressed tightly against hers and held her to the wall. But, just in case that message didn't quite make its way to her, he decided to verbalize it, but not until after he'd thoroughly kissed her into oblivion and left her panting softly as he pulled away.

He didn't go far, his nose grazing hers and their lips a breath apart as he looked down at her slightly wide eyes and parted, dark rose-colored lips. He let his eyes wander further downward and then back up to her eyes before he kissed her one more time, then let his lips trail to her ear where he planned to say something that would leave her anxious and desperate for the end of the party and the start of their night together.

The problem was, as his breath washed over her ear and made her shiver with anticipation, he found it nearly impossible to find the words that could satisfactorily express what he wished to.

"Later," he ended up finally saying, more gruffly than he'd intended to, but his tone only made her shiver all the more. He drew away far enough to look into her eyes before repeating more softly, "Later."

"Later?" she echoed, voice small and laced with anticipation.

He nodded. He thought that would be the end of it. It wasn't.

She licked her lips and then said, "Because if you asked me to get on my knees right here in this elevator, right now, I totally would."

Jaw slackening and eyes widening, the tables turned as it was now his turn to flounder at her words. His idea had utterly backfired, and he loved her all the more for it, especially when she grinned a bit proudly at his reaction.

And then, he suddenly remembered where they were when there was a loud ding and the elevator doors began to open, making them unwillingly spring off of each other and realize as they looked out that they'd arrived on the top floor and that the party was literally in front of them. A sea of people dressed in their best and not-so best, toting champagne flutes and various drinks as they laughed and mingled, paying no attention to the couple straightening out their outfits and trying to calm their respective heart rates.

Recovering, Summer slipped her arm into Bucky's and looked up at him almost shyly as she smiled and asked, "Ready?"

He gave her a subtly pointed look before nodding and heading into the party. She was a tease, a shameless tease, and though she'd clearly emerged the victor in this particular case, he could still have the last word and maybe snag the upper hand right back from her.

As they stepped into the crowd, he leaned in near her ear and murmured, "You'll pay for that later."

"You have no idea how much I want to," she whispered back.

He grinned, hoping the next few hours passed by rather quickly.

They did, but not at all for the reasons he, nor any of the fellow partygoers or Tony Stark himself, would have expected.

**A/N: so this was written at the end of my writing slump awhile ago, so I feel like this one isn't my best and kind of... boring, but in my defense, the next chapter is not boring in the least, so it should make up for it lol. Also, I was going to update yesterday but I've been busy and forgot, and almost forgot today again lol, but I finally managed to do it :p Thank you guys so much as always, every week that goes by that I update and you guys keep reading and not getting bored and leaving is just an extra brightness to my day, and I seriously appreciate it so much. Also, my gratitude to midnightwings96 for helping me when I went like a month without writing anything and needed help getting back into the swing of things. I shall see you all again in a week! :D**


	17. Chapter 17

_Champagne. I need more champagne_.

As if the staff had read Summer's mind, a tray of the bubbly stuff then sailed in front of her, and she snatched up a new glass just in time for the man at her side to give her a sidelong look and say, "You might want to go easy on those."

She scoffed at Bucky and took a sip before replying, "It's champagne, not Tony Stark's personal whisky stash. I'll be fine. And besides, how else am I gonna get over my nerves and actually talk to someone other than you?"

All around them, the party was alive and well with spirited chatter and all of the things that one would expect at a party at Stark Tower - glitzy dresses, designer suits, enough alcohol to knock out an entire zoo, and music for when the crowd eventually got around to dancing. In other words, it was about as far out of Summer's natural environment as she could get, and that was saying something, considering the fact that she was essentially roommates with the Avengers. But that, she could handle; this, however, was a different story.

"Well," Bucky replied quietly, his right hand softly running up her back along the open portions of her dress, "we don't have to stay."

She smiled as she swallowed another mouthful of champagne, glancing at him knowingly. "Oh no. It took me way too long to get ready for this party just to leave now and let all my hard work go to waste."

"I didn't plan on letting anything go to waste," he replied with a faint grin.

While Summer finished the flute of champagne and tried to formulate an answer, she continued to scan the room in search of people she actually recognized - it was a huge company, after all, and it looked like half of Manhattan was there - and the first face she recognized was that of Deanna, her boss. Who was apparently already drunk and stumbling over one of the IT guys from the seventeenth floor.

Another tray of champagne appeared, and this time, Summer passed. She really didn't want to look like that at any point during the night.

"I guess I'm supposed to mingle now," Summer sighed, "instead of standing here and hanging on the arm of my super hot boyfriend who nobody seems to recognize. Seriously, nobody has looked at you twice since we've gotten here."

He shrugged. "Guess I look like all the other idiots here."

She looked at him then, taking in everything about him from the perfect un-perfectness of his hair, which she noted was due for a trim, down to the faint but very present stubble along his jaw and down further to the absolute awesomeness of the white - no, ivory, apparently - suit that he was wearing tonight, in stark contrast to the dark hues he usually dressed in every day. The only thing missing was his metal hand, which she really wished he didn't have to cover up to fly under the radar at events like these. She _really_ liked that hand. It was a shame to cover it up for anything.

"You are, by far," she smiled, feeling a bit fuzzy from all the champagne she'd just slammed, "the most disgustingly sexy idiot here. And that's saying something, since Thor's here somewhere."

He grinned but also rolled his eyes. "Again with Thor. I don't get it."

She shrugged. "He's _Thor_."

Bucky again shook his head, then looked around before placing his hands in his pockets and saying, "I'm gonna go get a drink. You should... mingle... or whatever... for a few minutes. I'll find you."

She could have nearly latched herself to his leg like a toddler just to keep him from leaving her there alone to fend for herself, but without a push of some kind, if she was honest, she probably wouldn't have budged. So, she let him go, albeit quite reluctantly, and then took a deep breath as she mentally urged herself to get over it and be social for once in her life.

One more tray of champagne flutes went by, and this time, she muttered "screw it" under her breath and grabbed one more before stepping out in her very, very high heels into the crowd, hoping she didn't make too big of an idiot of herself tonight.

* * *

Bucky didn't care if he could not physically get drunk or not. If he had to be here and deal with the headache of a giant room full of a bunch of jerks he didn't know, he was going to drink, and he was going to at least enjoy that part of it. Then he would go find Summer and go back to glaring at any man who happened to glance her way. He'd done so at least five times already, and she hadn't even noticed. But he expected nothing less when she looked as amazing as she looked that particular night.

After ordering the largest amount of scotch from the bar that he could in one sitting, he grabbed the glass from the bartender and then turned around to refocus on the crowd and find Summer once again. The first person he recognized upon scanning the room was Thor, who was laughing ridiculously loudly and dancing with some tiny brunette he'd never seen before, though Thor appeared to be rather familiar with her by the looks of things. She must have been the "special lady" he was so excited to be reunited with. Not particularly concerned with this, he kept sipping his drink and looking, only to realize just as he started to walk off that he'd already drank the whole thing.

Stifling a sigh, he turned around and signaled to the bartender for another, which was the exact moment that a rather short woman with long dark curls and a face with almost exaggerated features sidled up next to him at the bar and shot him a smile before ordering her own drink. Bucky only glanced at her long enough to only appear somewhat rude rather than entirely without manners, but then she started talking and ruined his plans for utter silence.

"Hellooo there," she said in a way that made it seem as if she were slightly mocking her own words, like she knew she was being ridiculous. Bucky looked at her once more, and it didn't pass his notice how she was now angling her body towards him in a way that was asking for his attention. The dark red cocktail dress she wore placed a rather massive amount of cleavage on display, but he resolutely kept his eyes up and on her face. Then she added, "You don't look like much of a corporate stiff."

He shook his head, wondering if that was a sufficient enough answer. She wasn't silent long enough to find out.

"I'm Darcy," she said. "And I just broke up with this British guy I was dating like two days ago because he turned out to be an idiot, which sucks but whatever, because now I get to come to awesome parties like this and flirt with hot random guys at bars. So yay me."

Bucky's drink finally appeared then, and after briefly considering just walking away and not caring how rude he came off, Darcy saved him the trouble and once again started talking.

"But, judging by how uncomfortable you look right now, I'm guessing you're either here with someone or extremely gay, so... I'm gonna go with gay, since usually guys who look as good as you are gay."

Just when he'd finally found the motivation to speak just to set this woman straight, Steve suddenly popped up behind Bucky and smiled as he said, "Darcy! Good to see you again."

Darcy smiled. "Hey, you too, Cap! Still looking pretty young for a geezer, I see."

"I try," Steve shrugged with a smile before looking from her to Bucky and then back again. "So, I uh, take it you've met my friend."

"Friend?" Darcy repeated, looking back and forth between Bucky and Steve. "Like friend friend or boyfriend, because if it's boyfriend, I am totally winning a bet with Jane and it's gonna be awesome."

Rolling his eyes, Bucky glanced at Steve and watched him visibly try not to sigh before replying, "Friend, Darcy. This is my best friend, Bucky."

Suddenly choking on the first sip of her drink, Darcy coughed and set the glass down, holding up a hand as she recovered. After, she said in exasperation, "Oh my God, seriously? I just hit on the freakin' Winter Soldier _and_ asked him if he likes dudes?"

"Nice to meet you," Bucky said dryly, stopping himself from adding _whoever the hell you are_.

"It's typical," Darcy said, ignoring him. "Jane's over there dancing with the god of abs, and I pick literally the scariest guy in the room to flirt with. No offense."

Bucky shrugged. "None taken."

Sam wandered over to the bar then, dressed in his own best suit, which was a dark gray number, and upon approaching the group of three, he quickly focused on the girl he'd never met before and said while flashing a winning smile, "Hey there."

Drink in hand, Darcy looked up and sighed before muttering, "Not in the mood anymore," and walking off into the crowd.

Sam watched her leave and then turned back to Steve and Bucky, expression pure confusion as he asked, "Did I say something? Who was that?"

"Darcy," Steve replied. "Friend of Thor's."

Turning his head to look for her again though she was long gone, Sam said, "She's... damn."

Caring far more about more pressing matters than Sam's foiled flirting, Bucky spoke up and wondered out loud, "Why does everybody think we're gay?"

Steve shrugged, his face betraying his own confusion on the matter. Sam, however, laughed like Bucky had just cracked a particularly funny joke, until he realized both men were staring at him blankly and even more confused than they'd been a minute ago.

Smile fading slightly, Sam asked, "Seriously?" When neither Steve or Bucky said a word, Sam chuckled again and said, "Never mind then."

Then Sam left them there at the bar, possibly to go find the elusive and strange Darcy woman for a better introduction, and Steve appeared to be in deep thought while Bucky polished off his second drink.

"I don't get it," Steve finally said.

"I don't think we're supposed to get it," Bucky replied.

A moment or two of contemplative silence passed, and then Bucky announced, "I'm gonna go find Summer."

"I'll go find Nat," Steve agreed, and thus the two charmingly still-confused nonagenarians went their separate ways.

* * *

In short, mingling sucked. In the last fifteen minutes, she'd almost had vodka spilled on her by now-ragingly drunken Deanna and had been ignored by most of the relatively few fellow employees that she recognized, except, naturally, one man by the name of Jeff who was from accounting or something and had refused to leave her alone since she'd been foolish enough to be polite and talk to him.

The guy was weird, and while Summer expected a reasonable amount of glances at her chest given how _out_ it was, he had surpassed the acceptable quota of wandering glances about ten minutes ago. He also smelled vaguely like Mexican food, and not the good kind, either - more like the kind you'd find at a sketchy gas station. He also had some mild dental issues and droopy eyes that resembled a particularly unfortunate basset hound, but she could have ignored all of that if he hadn't been so _creepy_.

"... So that's when I said, no, do I _look_ like someone who could change a tire?"

Summer smiled weakly, totally lost in the story Jeff was regaling her with, and she had to focus all of her energy on not cringing horribly when he laughed. It was the worst laugh she'd ever heard. He literally had nothing going for him.

Looking around for a way out - any way out - she glanced around the room and brushed a straying curl from her face, then almost jumped out of her skin when the guy suddenly seized her hand and stretched out her arm as he began examining her palm. "What... are you do-"

"I took a palm reading class back in '06," he said. "Sorry, I do this with everyone. Oooh, it looks like your lifeline is -"

"Not your problem," a gruff voice interrupted, and before she could blink, a different and much welcome hand took her wrist and pulled her hand away from the weirdo. She looked up at Bucky as he took his place at her side and glared calm but incredibly sharp daggers at Jeff, holding her hand at his side in a way that felt a bit more possessive than it probably looked. Possibly because he was squeezing her hand way harder than he surely realized, but she could take it.

"Oh, hi," Jeff smiled, oblivious. "I didn't know you had a boyfriend, Summer."

"Yeah, shocking, right?" she joked badly, and the guy laughed a little too hard in response.

Rather than endure an awkward "gotta leave now and wash my hands because you touched them" moment, Bucky then pulled on her hand and dragged her about twenty feet away before she could so much as squeak out one syllable of a goodbye. And she was okay with that.

But still, her first comment upon getting away was, "Hey, I could have gotten rid of him myself."

"And I could have snapped his wrist in half without blinking," Bucky replied, eyes straight ahead as he continued to lead her aimlessly through the crowd.

"That might have been a little... excessive," she said quietly. "Although I'm not gonna lie, it's kind of a turn on when you want to break bones over me."

Finally, he stopped and turned towards her, and she felt a little twinge of pride in herself as she watched his eyes roam down her body for what felt like the hundredth time that night. It never got old, though.

"Do you have any idea how men look at you?" he asked, and she paused in surprise at the question.

"Um... well... in general?"

He rolled his eyes and then began, "There's a man in a black suit here with a woman and they're both wearing wedding rings. He hasn't stopped looking since we got here. I could go on because I've lost count of how many men I've had to glare at, but what I'm trying to say is - you don't have to be as nice as you are to losers like that guy back there."

The message going utterly over her head, Summer's eyes widened a little and she looked around suddenly, then turned back to Bucky and asked quietly, "That many guys are checking me out? That... is... _awesome_." Bucky narrowed his eyes at her, and she just laughed and said, "Well, I mean, the married ones are scumbags, but still. And don't give me that look, because you should see how girls stare at you."

"Girls don't -"

"Oh yes they do," Summer shook her head. "In fact - oomph!"

Unexpectedly, a random partygoer crashed into her from behind, and after quickly given apologies and a few laughs from the stranger, Summer looked around again and realized people were dancing now. In fact, they were standing still in the middle of quite a few dancing couples, and she quickly looked up and asked with a smile, "Want to dance instead of standing here like a couple of weirdos?"

She could see by his expression that his knee-jerk reaction was to consider balking at that, and she understood why - crowds were not his thing, and dancing in them to unfamiliar modern music played by the DJ Stark had hired probably even more so. But that instant reaction only lasted half a second before he nodded, and then he was walking them a little further away from the main crowd and pulling her close once he'd found a spot that he liked well enough.

He held out his hand to her, and she took it with a small smile, then held her breath for a minute when his disguised left hand went to the small of her back to bring her closer. She placed her free hand on his shoulder, and then they were dancing, though she instantly missed the way they danced in private as opposed to this. The swing dancing was growing on her.

"So... party's not so bad, right?" she asked, catching his eyes and giving him a smile that he partially returned while his gaze did its wandering thing again. Unlike the other guys, he had an unlimited quota of glances and, if he so chose, stares to use however he liked.

"Could be worse," he replied, hand on her back pulling her in just a little closer, so that her chest touched his. "But it could also be better."

His eyes met hers, and she wondered how after all of this time, his eye contact could still make her squirm the way that it did. "Sorry, I can't hear you when you're looking at me like you want to eat me," she quipped, instantly regretting the words as soon as they were out, because she knew exactly what he was going to say.

"I always want to do that."

She smiled and closed her eyes, prediction coming true yet again. "I walked into that one."

Rather than reply with something witty or change the subject, however, he then leaned in closer and she held her breath as he grazed his lips along her cheek before stopping at her ear, where he murmured, "What I'm really thinking about is how much I want to take you back to my room and tie you to the bed in nothing but those high heels."

Rather than squeak and possibly fall over the way that she wanted to, Summer reminded herself that breathing was a necessary thing as Bucky then pulled away to survey the level of blushing he'd accomplished. If the burning in her face and even in her ears was any indication, he might have broken his personal record.

Trying to form words and failing, she just stared at him for a moment, and then he had the gall to grin at her as he continued dancing her along. It was such a drastic change for a man who had once stared at her in slightly wide-eyed innocence and pain when she'd kissed him the very first time. Now he whispered maddeningly enticing things in her ear and relished in her frustration and instant nearly overwhelming need like the jerk he was.

"Speechless?"

Trying to gather her wits, she retooled her expression into something more defiant and shook her head. "Nope."

"Need a minute?"

She gave him a look and said quietly, "Don't start with me." Then she thought for a moment, and her brows furrowed slightly as she asked, "You want to tie me up?"

A flicker of apprehension crossed his features then, and a more cautious expression replaced his previous cocky one as he replied, "I... only if you... if it didn't... if it wasn't..."

She watched him flounder for words and grow visibly frustrated with himself as he went on, but then they were interrupted by the sudden end of the music and, unexpectedly, a round of polite applause that seemed to burst from all around them. They both looked around in momentary confusion before looking around and following everyone else's gaze to the reason for the party, Tony Stark himself, standing before the crowd in front of the DJ booth, arms out to stoke the crowd for more. Summer rolled her eyes a little and gave Bucky a smile as they separated from their previous very close positions, making a mental note to definitely get a definitive answer about the tying-up thing later.

After chiming in with her own polite applause, Summer watched as the crowd quieted eventually and their host grabbed a microphone before grinning and giving a brief but memorable speech.

"Thank you for that... passable round of applause," Tony said with a grin, getting a few laughs from the crowd. "No, really, thank you to everyone who came here tonight to help us here at Stark Industries celebrate what I, for once, honestly can't overstate the importance of. And when you've done something like successfully hook up one of the biggest, most important cities in the world on clean, renewable energy, naturally the thing to do is get dressed up and pass out drunk." Summer rolled her eyes while the crowd laughed some more, and Tony grinned, "Hey, drinking alone is never as fun as drinking with - what? A couple hundred? Five hundred? - of your closest friends and frenemies. You know who you are."

Summer glanced at Bucky while the others laughed some more, unaware if that was directed at him, but in all probability, she didn't think it was.

"Anyway, I don't want to hold up the party too long, so let me just restate that for once, I'm actually happy to have my tower filled to the rafters with people who are only here to eat my food and drink my booze, because regardless of why you came, you're celebrating something that's actually worth celebrating. And by that, I mean me. Just kidding. Sort of."

"Think he's drunk already?" Summer asked in a whisper, and Bucky just shrugged in disinterest.

"Actually, a ridiculous amount of credit goes to the fantastic staff we have here at the tower, and also to the gorgeous, brilliant, utterly irreplaceable CEO standing here to my right, Pepper Potts. She might even deserve most of the credit - more than twelve percent for sure. Don't ask, long story."

At his side, Pepper smiled gamely and shook her head at Tony's antics, and for a moment, Summer wondered how the woman could handle someone as always... _on_ as Tony Stark seemed to be. Then she glanced at her own date and realized that answer was actually rather simple.

"So... everybody keep drinking, keep dancing, have a good time, and try not to drool too much over the thunder god in our midst. And do mind the 95-year old fossil as well. Carry on."

And with that, the crowd laughed and clapped some more, and then the music restarted and the dancing began anew. Summer turned back to Bucky and asked, "So, more dancing or more drinking? Or both? Or should I mingle more? I don't want to mingle."

He chuckled and replied, "As much as I like you when you're drunk, I think you've had enough."

She groaned in reply. "Maybe you're right. Well, boo."

Bucky took her hand then and said before getting cut off, "Come on, let's da-"

To their left, an obliviously giggling woman toting a glass of champagne unknowingly walked right into Summer's side, and rather than spilling the drink on Summer on impact, the liquid rebounded somehow and landed right on the other woman's dress. Summer froze in place as she watched it all happen, and as the woman gasped and stared open-mouthed at her dress - which was unfortunately white and not good at hiding such spills - Summer immediately started apologizing for something that had not been her fault to begin with.

"I'm so sorry!" Summer began as the woman groaned and let her head fall back in despair. "I didn't see you and, I... uh..."

Summer's brows furrowed as she looked up to find Thor behind the woman, as if he'd been there all along, and she barely heard the woman reply, "Oh, no, no, it was my fault... ugh, this just figures..."

"Jane? What has happened?" Thor asked, and Summer watched with widening eyes as "Jane" glanced back at him and answered.

"Nothing, just my usual... problems with not being a total mess when I'm in a room full of super important people," she grumbled, patting at the large spot on her dress with her hand as if that would help.

"Oh... well," Thor replied, "I see you've met my friends!"

Friends? Summer blinked a couple times and smiled as she realized Thor was talking about her, and Jane did the same as Thor stood closer to them and said, "Jane, this is Summer, and... James," he said, after a brief hesitation on what exactly to introduce Bucky as. "And this is my Jane Foster."

Summer's smile grew as Jane smiled a little dumbly too, a little flustered by the possessive introduction, and Summer chirped, "Oh! Nice to meet you! Can I help you find a towel or something?"

"No - maybe - no, I'll be fine, just... ugh," Jane shrugged at herself. "But thank you, and nice to meet you too. I should... go figure out what to do about this." Then she turned back to Thor and said, "I'll be right back."

Thor nodded as she raced off, and Summer's smile remained intact as she looked up at him and said, "You have an Earth girlfriend?"

"Yes, I do!" he smiled brightly. "She is incredible, is she not?"

Considering how awkward Jane appeared right off the bat, Summer would have to agree, because it was even more proof that there was hope for awkward girls everywhere. "Very pretty. And short."

"Indeed, even in those odd devices you Midgardian women place on your feet to appear taller," Thor replied.

Summer laughed, and as the dancing continued around them, Thor then glanced at Bucky and said, "Would you mind if I had a dance with your lady while I wait for mine?"

As Summer faced the sudden onset of cardiac arrest at that question, Bucky snapped out of his brief nearly half-asleep daze to glance at Summer and eventually nod, wordlessly telling her in a single look to calm down and not faint over it before telling her _with_ words he was going to go fetch another drink. She nodded after him and then felt like she was suddenly twelve years old as she looked up at Thor, who grinned and wasted no time in catching her up in a friendly embrace and starting the dance.

And _whoa_, his arms were seriously cannons. Her hand on his shoulder felt like it was sitting on top of a human tank. Asgardian tank. Whatever.

"So, Lady Summer, how do you fare this night?" Thor asked as she continued to stare with wide eyes at his arms and his general self, as she'd never been so close before. He was dressed in black aside from his new red jacket, which was a nice nod to the cape he was fond of, and the gloriously long golden hair just tied it all together so utterly disgustingly. In a good way.

"I... uh... I'm dancing with a mythological dude who's saved the world like three times in the last couple years and looks like a Greek god - sorry, Norse god - so yeah, pretty good!" she replied, and he chuckled. "Seriously, like how am I even here?"

He grinned and said, "I agree, it is a nice place to be. I like it here. It is good to be with friends."

"I bet you have even more back home, right?" she asked, taking extra care not to trip over her own feet as they danced.

"Yes, and I do miss them," Thor nodded. "But I am enjoying getting to know your realm better. I discovered the most interesting and delicious food yesterday, Natasha said they were called 'corn dogs', though she assured me they contain no actual dogs."

Summer smiled and bit back a laugh. How could anyone anywhere ever _not_ instantly love this man? "Corn dogs are great. Especially deep fried and fresh. Oh yeah. Hey, have you had a Big Mac yet?"

"I have! In fact, I have had several since I've been back, they are quite tasty."

"Right? Ooh, what about Starbucks? Have you been to Starbucks?"

After a few more minutes of talk revolving around Earth food and how awesome it was, Thor laughed at how passionate she was about something called a "peanut butter burger", and then said, "You know, you are very amusing. You ought to come to Asgard one day. I would love to hear what you might think of it."

Her jaw dropped and she asked with wide eyes, "Is that an invitation? Because if it is, holy crap, like... holy crap."

"I would like to take my friends one day to my home, just as I have been welcomed here," Thor replied. "So perhaps it will happen eventually."

She smiled and thought she might actually explode at the idea of such a prospect. Also, he'd just included her in his circle of friends, and that was freaking awesome. "That's awesome! How would we get there? Some super top secret spaceship?"

Thor smiled and shook his head. "No, that's what the Rainbow Bridge is for."

She blinked. "Rainbow Bridge? Like Mario Kart?"

"Like what?"

"Never mind," she shook her head. "So tell me about this Rainbow Bridge. Is it something we Earthlings can't see because we're not as advanced and awesome as you are?"

"No, no, not at all. In fact -"

Though Summer was listening raptly, a faint rumble under their feet as if from some sort of quake soon stole her attention and left Thor trailing off with a look of mild confusion on his face. Standing there at a halt, they looked at each other silently, and Summer began wonder if the rumble was something that could possibly be a big deal, that was when there was a blinding flash of light and an ear-crushing explosion that erupted from seemingly out of nowhere.

And in the split second during the sudden blast that Summer watched a great, terrible fire explode behind Thor's head and reach the ceiling almost instantly, her heart dropped and ice cold panic nearly made it stop beating, as it was suddenly Virginia all over again, just in a different setting, and from a party to a nightmare in less time than it took to take a breath.

Before she could register any of it, she was suddenly enclosed completely in the strongest pair of arms she'd ever met and was being literally propelled to safety in the corner of the room that had not just been ripped apart by a bomb. The smell of smoke instantly hit her nose as they hit the floor, and though Thor had done what he had to protect her, slamming into a wall and then the floor with a Norse god literally cocooned around her was enough to make her gasp with pain and later raise the suspicion that a few of her ribs had been bruised.

But none of that mattered at the moment; as she coughed and gripped her side, Thor rolled away from her and set her up so that she was sitting against the wall, his hands on her shoulders as he looked around them before turning back to her and asking her something that she couldn't quite hear. The explosion had been deafening - all she could hear as she blinked and tried to make sense of what had happened was the screams of others and what sounded like the building literally falling to pieces. Behind Thor, she saw the fire raging and beams falling, the very walls crumbling on the opposite side as Thor continued to yell at her to no avail.

There was only one thing she could think of, one name that she thought she simply spoke but in reality screamed over the overwhelming sound of destruction. "David - David!"

She scrambled to her feet, ignoring her shaking legs and suddenly soaring on the kind of adrenaline that made children able to lift cars off of pinned down parents. Her hearing adjusted enough so that she could hear what Thor was saying to her. "Yes, yes, everyone must get out, I must help get everyone to safety and you must follow me -"

She shook her head, pushing him out of the way - actually pushing him - and rambling, "No, no, no, there's kids downstairs and I have to get my son and -"

She looked around the mess in front of her - people running, fire climbing up the walls to her left, some people pinned under fallen pieces of the ceiling and the walls, and smoke quickly making it harder to both see and breathe - and then she started running for the door that would lead to the stairwell, only to have her arm caught by a hand that she instantly assumed was Thor's. It wasn't.

It was Steve, who was bleeding from a cut in his forehead and covered in dust as he yelled over the noise, "The kids - I'm coming with you. Cover your face."

She nodded, and from there, it was a mad race away from ground zero and to the tower's most innocent current inhabitants. And her adrenaline high, amazingly enough, allowed her to mostly keep up with Steve's speed.

Several things raced through her mind as they ran, all at warp speed and each thought as terrifying as the next. The quaking that she'd felt before could have been another bomb, one that hit somewhere lower in the building, and if that was true, there was a distinct possibility that she could not stomach the mere thought of. In addition to that, she had not seen one single sign of Bucky during the blast or the few moments afterwards before she'd begun racing to get her son out. So, while her heart was propelling her downstairs to her son without looking back once, another piece of it was still back at the top floor, hoping that Bucky was okay and that the pit of dread in her stomach was there for no reason. After all, he was more durable than the average human and had survived a lot worse in his years than random bombings. But knowing that didn't stop the worry.

The journey to the floor that held the daycare room was long and increasingly filled with smoke rising from below, confirming that there had indeed been more than one blast and taking her fears and multiplying them. Steve was a man on a mission, helping people that they came across who were trying to flee their own floors, and it felt like an eternity before they were finally where Summer needed them to be.

The lower blast had come from further down the tower, so it was mainly smoke that was the issue as Summer followed Steve into the daycare room and started wildly looking around and calling David's name as loudly as she could through the strip of fabric that Steve had torn off his own jacket for her to breathe into. The first thing they saw upon entering the main room was the two daycare workers passed out on the floor and partially buried under collapsed portions of the room's ceiling. She started yelling louder then as Steve checked for pulses on the two women, and when she rounded a corner and finally found the kids, she saw something amazing.

All ten of the kids there were fine, though they all looked terrified but relieved that somebody had come to help them, but Summer's vision locked on her five year old boy who was hugging a dark-skinned, curly-haired little girl about his size and holding his trusty Captain America shield toy in front of them both. The girl was crying but he wasn't, and when he looked up and saw that his mother had come to rescue him, he grabbed the girl's hand and tugged her along as he ran as fast as he could into Summer's arms.

And as relief washed over her in having him there with her, where he belonged, her heart swelled with pride in knowing that he was braver than she had ever thought before. She hugged him and squeezed him with all the force of a mother who had come too close to losing him one too many times, and then while telling him over and over how much she loved him, she scooped him up in one arm and the little girl in her other. When she turned around, she saw that Steve had gotten both of the daycare workers conscious and on their feet, and he turned to face her with a look of mild surprise on his face.

"Can you carry them both?" he asked, and Summer didn't hesitate a moment in her reply.

"Yes." Never mind the high heels she was still wearing and the fact that both kids combined weren't all that light of a load. She still had the adrenaline of a champion, and she was going to use it before it vanished and left her useless. "Now how do we get out?"

* * *

Before the blast, Bucky had been back at bar, drinking quietly and falling into his trusty habit of watching everything and everyone around him and looking for signs of danger. It was nothing more than a reflex, and it came as natural as breathing. What was surprising was the fact that he'd actually noticed something that caught his suspicion.

It was one of the wait staff, a man with long brown hair tied into a low ponytail, who roused Bucky's attention. Back and forth he went, serving champagne and other drinks, but he was different from the others, because he was wearing an earpiece that was visible if one knew how to look for it, and he was speaking into it rather frequently. None of the other staff wore such pieces.

Everything about the man was a red flag. But Bucky also had to wonder if he wasn't being overly paranoid. Stark Tower was pretty secure, ridiculously so now that it was housing the Avengers and a floor that was off limits for everyone except them, and he didn't mean the floor that they all lived on. Bucky knew what it was - it was the new SHIELD, though Steve didn't call it that. Bucky wasn't involved much with whatever they were doing, however, and that was by his own choice. Point was, that floor's existence meant that the whole building was surely nearly as safe as the Pentagon.

But that didn't stop the Pentagon from being hit in 2001, Bucky reminded himself. At least, that's what Summer's history books had told him.

So, he followed the man. He was subtle. The man didn't notice a thing, or at least Bucky thought so at first. He was slipping inside what looked like a harmless storage closet that he'd seen the man hovering around, but the minute that he'd opened the door and walked inside, there had been an arm around his neck in a chokehold and a needle jammed into his vein, and before he could whip around and make short work of utterly annihilating his attacker, he collapsed unconscious to the floor.

The man, who was indeed no mere waiter, stuffed him inside the closet and locked the door. Two minutes later, the bomb went off, rather close to the closet. Five minutes after that, after Bucky's metabolism burned off the tranquilizer like it was a celery stick, he awoke and found himself pinned to the floor by a fallen beam and choking on smoke.

The door was gone, but in its place was a pile of what had once been walls and was now a barricade that would have utterly trapped anyone else. Bucky, however, driven by the realization that the tower had been hit and _Summer_ might still be inside of it, managed to get out from under the beam and stand up, then begin literally punching his way out. In moments like those, he could almost be a grateful for an arm that could crack concrete. Almost.

It took more strength than he was willing to admit, but soon he had a hole punched through that was big enough for him to climb through, and he gasped in a huge breath of better but still far too smoky air before he fell into a coughing fit that left a burn in his throat and his chest that he completely ignored. With his suit now mostly a dirty gray color along with his face, he got to his feet and looked around the wreckage of the top floor with wide eyes and a sinking sense of dread and horror. Half of the walls were gone, the fire was still raging on the parts that weren't gone, and through the giant holes in the building, he could see the blur of Thor flying about, grabbing the people that remained and carrying them to safety. After Thor came Stark in one of his suits, but he recognized nobody else in the chaos.

Summer. He had to find Summer. Either she was out, or she wasn't. And if she wasn't out, she was either buried under the rubble, or she was trying to get David out.

There was still a lot of partygoers there, many right in front of him, who needed help, and they were getting it from men who could fly, unlike Bucky. And also unlike Bucky - or at least his current state of self-perception - they were heroes who made a living out of that sort of thing. He didn't see how he could be much help to anyone stuck on that crumbling floor, and if he was being honest - and he generally always was - he didn't want to be. The person he wanted - needed - to help and get to safety was Summer, and by extension, her child. Everything else came second.

So, he ran. He ran towards the stairs and he didn't look back, but when he passed through the open door to the stairwell and found that it had caved in, he cursed mentally and then turned to find another way out before something caught his eye and made him take a closer look. Underneath the mess and under a particularly heavy looking beam, he saw dirty but distinctly strawberry-blonde hair peeking out, and he knew right away who that hair belonged to. And suddenly, he couldn't simply cut and run.

Assuming the worst, he rushed forward for a closer look, and fortunately, the beam was mostly pinning Pepper down by her legs, and the heaviest pieces of debris had hopefully missed her head and other vital parts on the way down, but she was knocked out cold. He checked for a pulse, found it relatively strong, and then set about pulling the beam off of her and getting her free of the debris.

If it had been anyone else, another face in the crowd that he didn't know and had never met, he couldn't say that he would have stopped and helped. His brain reverted back to what he knew best, which was singling out a mission and sticking to it, and at the moment, Summer was his mission. But Pepper, however unlikely, was what reminded him of who he was today, and how he was the one fully in control of what, and who, he was. And he was a man who lived every day with the regret of killing many people, some of them rather good ones, including Tony Stark's father. He could never make up for that, but now he had a chance to prove himself better, and he would not let it pass by.

Pepper remained unconscious as he pulled her up into his arms, then punched a hole through the barrier of debris before them. He looked back once, for the shortest of seconds, to debate on whether to try to get Thor or Stark's attention to take her from him. But he didn't have time for that. Instead, he ripped off a small portion of his jacket and covered Pepper's face with it, then set about his original mission once more.

* * *

Amidst blaring sirens and the hysterical sounds of the people around her, Summer stood on the sidewalk and looked up in horror as Stark Tower burned. For two explosions, they'd certainly packed a punch. Smoke was still pluming from the top floor, and there was a hole in the middle of the tower that was even more terrifying in a way, because she imagined the whole thing snapping in half any minute.

The tower was supposed to be safe. They were all supposed to be safe there. But maybe safety wasn't really a concept that applied to the Avengers, and by association, herself, any longer.

And to make it all so incredibly worse, there was not a single sign of Bucky. Thor, Tony and Steve were busy with the rescue effort. Sam was helping sort of in between, taking folks from Steve and keeping it all as orderly as possible. Jane was safe and nearby, huddling with some enormous-chested lady when she wasn't trying to help where she could, which wasn't much. Deanna was out and safe and incredibly sober. Summer had caught a glimpse of red hair and Steve's motorcycle upon getting out, and if she had to bet, Natasha was chasing a suspect, and if she was doing that, Clint was probably following.

That left Bucky as the only one in her circle unaccounted for. And one other.

Lighting up the sidewalk, Tony in full Iron Man gear hit the ground in front of her right as Steve re-emerged from the building with some more people, and Summer watched as Tony's mask went up and he shouted over the commotion, "Rogers, any sign of her yet?"

Steve looked distressed as he shook his head. "Not yet."

"We've gotten almost everybody out! She's got to be in there!"

Steve's face grew even more pained, and then Tony's mask snapped back into place and he blasted back off into the sky.

She knew who they were talking about. Pepper was as missing as Bucky was, but a lot less durable.

Steve looked at Summer for a brief second before turning and running back inside, and she took a shaky breath as she squeezed David's hand.

She had to do something. She'd lose her mind worrying if she didn't put it to some sort of task. And seeing that she was currently in charge of ten kids, one wasn't hard to find.

Still clinging to David was the little girl he'd been shielding when Summer found them. Focusing on the girl and not on the horrible fear in her head, Summer turned and knelt down in front of the girl, taking one of her small hands in her own and asking, "Are you okay? What's your name, sweetie?"

The girl looked at her shyly and then made a gesture with her hand. It took a minute for Summer's brain to process that the girl was using sign language. "Oh - you - is it your hearing?" She pointed to her own ears. "Or are you like David?"

Reading her lips, the girl pointed to her ears in reply, and Summer nodded. "Okay. Stay here with us until they find your parents, okay?"

The girl nodded, then looked at David and signed something to him, and to Summer's shock, he signed something back. His therapists back in Virginia had been trying to teach him sign language since he was two, and he never showed an interest in it. Now here he was, communicating with a child his own age, and that wasn't just a milestone - it was a freaking mountain he'd climbed.

Stunned by this, Summer felt tears well up and she kissed David's forehead before standing upright again, praying that this little girl who had apparently been teaching David to speak through his hands for awhile now would see her parents, wherever they were, survive the attack.

And while her other prayers had to wait, that one was the first one answered.

Steve's next haul produced a couple that the little girl instantly ran to with wide open arms and tears falling from her eyes. Summer clutched David tighter, overwhelmed with her own worries but immensely grateful that the girl would be all right.

Now she just had to wait to see if she was going to be all right.

It felt like an eternity, standing there and waiting and waiting, then waiting some more, nausea replacing her previous adrenaline rush and leaving her lucky just to stay upright while the picture seemed to grow more and more grim. She was so wrapped up in her dread and fear that she almost didn't hear Jane ask nobody in particular, "Who's that? Is that..."

Summer looked at Jane and then followed where the woman's eyes were going, and then she nearly collapsed in the night's second incredibly overwhelming tidal wave of relief. He looked like he'd just emerged from a particularly trying battle but he was _there_, Bucky was finally there, alive and leaving the destruction of the building behind him, and he wasn't alone - he was carrying someone.

"That's Pepper," Summer blurted out, looking at Jane and anyone who would listen. "He's got her! Somebody needs to tell Tony!"

And someone did, after Thor dropped five people on the ground and Summer shouted to get his attention. Thor took one look, then flew off to tell Tony, leaving Summer to once again pointlessly fight tears as she realized she'd never forget this moment of watching Bucky survive yet again, and this time carry someone else to safety that he hadn't needed to.

His eyes were locked on hers the whole time, and she couldn't look away. And she didn't care when her tears won the battle before it had even begun.

Tony flew down to the sidewalk just as Bucky was almost close enough for her to reach for. The Iron Man mask slid up again as Bucky looked away from Summer to him, quickly assuring the other man, "She's alive, she's breathing. Her ankle might be broken and I don't know if she hit her head, but she's just knocked out."

Tony was nothing short of stunned, his face showing equal parts belief and shock as he stared at Pepper, laying safely in the arms of one of the last people Tony would have ever suspected he'd ever thank for anything. But there she was, with fabric torn from Bucky's own clothes to shield her nose and mouth from the smoke, and Tony wasn't the only one staring like that. Steve had come back out as well, and he was watching from a distance, knowing full well how significant what he was watching was.

Holding out his armored arms to take her, Tony looked at Bucky with no trace of anything but pure sincerity in his eyes as he said, "Thank you."

Summer watched Bucky's jaw clench slightly as he nodded and then handed the woman over. Then the mask came back down and Tony was flying directly to the nearest hospital, and that was okay, because more help had arrived from the city and most of the building had been emptied.

Then, after the moment had faded, Bucky's gaze turned back to Summer, and she flung herself at him so fast that she actually knocked him back a few steps. He recovered quickly though, and crushed her to him with an almost bruising embrace as he said, "I looked everywhere for you, I looked in the kids' room, everywhere, I thought the worst..."

"I thought the worst too," she said before pulling back and kissing him briefly but in a way that was almost out of her control in how badly she needed to just make sure that he was there and safe. "Are you okay?"

"Of course I'm okay, are you?" he asked, pulling back a bit only look her over more thoroughly.

She nodded. "Yeah, yeah, totally fine, I -"

"And what about him?" Bucky asked, turning them slightly and then bending to look down at David, who was standing just behind Summer and didn't flinch when Bucky gently grabbed his upper arm as he looked him over just as fully as he had Summer.

"We're fine," Summer assured him, though his concern for David made her want to start crying all over again. "We are."

Bucky nodded a few seconds later, accepting her assurances, and then he said, "Stay here, don't move. I have to tell Steve something."

She nodded, wiping away a few tears that had stubbornly made their way out, and after Bucky saw this, he drew forward one more time and kissed her forehead before racing off towards Steve.

Everyone that she cared about was okay. Hopefully the others were as well. The danger was over. She could breathe again.

That also meant that her adrenaline was gone, and now she had to start wondering about what happened next.

* * *

Bucky insisted that Summer and David let paramedics check them out while he had taken a moment to relay to Steve what happened with the waiter before the blast went off. As relieved as he was that the ones he cared about most were okay, the fact that he'd come so close to potentially stopping the attack before it happened only to be so easily taken out by a needle to the neck... it was utterly maddening. This was the kind of stuff he was supposed to be good at, or maybe he wasn't. Maybe, since investigating suspicious wait staff and thwarting a bomb wasn't part of an assassin's repertoire, his uselessness shouldn't have been a surprise.

"Look, don't be so hard on yourself," Steve told him quietly. "None of us saw that coming. You couldn't have anticipated getting tranqued like that."

"But I should have," Bucky shrugged. "I knew something was off the minute I saw that guy."

"And now Clint and Nat are after him and one other suspect," Steve replied. "We're gonna catch them. They took out the whole floor. The main blast was there."

By "floor", Bucky knew Steve meant the mini-SHIELD that Tony had been funding and Steve had been running in secret. "So someone knew."

Steve sighed. "Someone always does. But look, you... did an amazing thing tonight. You should be proud."

He wasn't proud. It was rather literally the least one could do to save the life of the girlfriend of the man whose father he'd killed years ago, or at least that's all Bucky would allow himself to think. It wasn't enough for redemption. More of a down payment on a debt he had no hope of ever paying.

"Here," Steve said after a moment of silence, handing Bucky his phone. "This is the address of a safe house. Get Summer and David there. There's too many cops getting here - you don't want them asking too many questions. The rest of us will be be there later."

Bucky nodded, quickly memorizing the address and then handing the phone back. Then Steve added, "I was with Summer the whole time, when the bomb first went off. I went with her to get the kids out. You should have seen her running in those shoes with two kids up over her shoulders."

Bucky's lips quirked into a small smile. He could picture that rather clearly. She was stronger than even she thought she was, he knew that. Quietly, he replied, "Thank you. For making sure she got out."

Steve nodded, then gave his shoulder a pat. "You're welcome. Now go, before someone asks your name."

Bucky nodded, mentally repeating the address and almost asking Steve what to do about transportation before he decided not to bother. One didn't take a cab to a safe house, and Tony Stark's armory of cars were underneath a rather unstable building at the moment.

Hopefully Summer wouldn't mind him "borrowing" a stranger's car. To his surprise, she didn't, at least not that night.

After she and David were cleared by the paramedics, Bucky picked them up in his expertly stolen car, and he drove while Summer stayed in the backseat for David's sake, so that he could stay plastered to her side where he felt safest. The ride was silent for the most part, and when he looked back occasionally to glance at Summer, he found her either gazing distantly out the window or closing her eyes with her head leaning on top of David's. He could tell something was wrong, and it didn't surprise him. In fact, he wondered how many of these things she would endure before she decided enough was enough and ran for the hills.

Far outside of the city and tucked away in a place nobody would ever find it aside from those in need of it was the safe house that Steve had directed them to. Getting there, getting inside and finding a room for Summer to claim and get settled in wasn't a problem or otherwise eventful. The problem was how quiet she was, how little she said from the car into the house and then into the room. Bucky did what he could, offered to get her a drink or help her with anything she needed, but she shrugged off his offers and smiled emptily as she told him she'd just need a minute to get David squared away. So, he nodded, and left the room to go wait in the dining area. Wait for what, he didn't know.

When he heard the sounds of David crying come wafting through the hall about ten minutes after he left them, it came as no surprise. They had none of their belongings here, none of the things that calmed David down and made upsets in his routine a bit easier. Bucky had gotten used to David's eccentricities and knew this would be terrible for him, but there was no other choice.

The crying continued on, and Bucky stared at the kitchen table he was sitting in front of, arms crossed and stewing mentally on far too many things at once. Frustration with himself. Anger at who had attacked them tonight. Despair at the fact that he could do nothing to help Summer, nor help the others catch the bastards who did this. He was stuck, and alone, and he didn't like it.

He sat like this until he heard the back door of the house burst open, and he jumped up to his feet to catch a glimpse of Natasha shoving a man through a door that led to a basement. They were gone in a flash, so he quickly approached Clint who was right behind her and asked, "You get him?"

Clint nodded. "Yeah, wasn't that hard. Nat'll get him to talk. But Steve told us about the guy on the wait staff attacked you, and this guy isn't him. This one was on Stark's payroll in the IT department."

Bucky frowned at that, wanting nothing more than to hunt down everyone involved with the attack and make them suffer, but apparently he couldn't do that. He wouldn't even bother to ask in on whatever missions came next as a result of this, because he knew what the answer would be after the last time. So, he simply nodded, then watched as Clint followed Natasha down into the basement, finding himself once again alone and useless.

Restless and increasingly angry, he began wandering around the indistinct, unremarkable house, pacing when he wasn't wandering, eventually ending up back in the kitchen to go through the cabinets just to try to give himself something to do before he lost it. He found nothing but a supply of ceramic mugs that he wanted to smash on the ground until he felt better. He was so distracted that he hadn't noticed that David had stopped crying.

Eventually, and he wasn't sure how much time passes in the meantime, he ended up heading back towards the basement door on the other side of the house, unsure of why he was doing so. Maybe it was to try to listen to Natasha's interrogation, or invite himself to it, but either way, whatever would have happened did not due to him unexpectedly finding that Summer had beat him there.

She was barefoot but still in her black dress, which was rather tattered now, and her back was facing him as she stared at the door. As Bucky opened his mouth to ask what she was doing, a sudden cry of pure agony pierced the air through the door, and Summer jumped with a faint gasp.

"Summer," he said quickly, stepping forward and taking her upper arm in his hand and making her jump in surprise again at the contact. "Come here. Don't listen to that."

"But... what is that?" she asked in alarm, looking up at him with wide eyes as he dragged her away from the door and down the hallway.

"They caught one of the people who was behind the attack," he explained. "Natasha's interrogating him."

"Oh," Summer said quietly, and he stopped walking them near the door of the room she'd taken and turned to face her.

"He asleep?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Wasn't easy, but he is."

Bucky nodded, looking her over. Her hair was a mess, her face slightly grimy, and she really needed to change into something more comfortable, for her own sake. He brushed some of her hair back behind her ear and asked softly, "Are you okay?"

She shrugged, staring over his shoulder as her eyes lost focus. "Yeah. Just... I don't know. These things are harder to deal with when they're over and the adrenaline's gone, I guess."

He nodded, understanding what she meant. For the moment, as he touched her and focused his attention on her, he didn't feel quite so angry or useless anymore. He wasn't fully sure what to do with her or how to help, but he became suddenly determined to do _something_.

"Are you hungry?" he asked, and she shook her head rather vehemently. He then looked her over again, at the faint dust still in her hair and the dress she wore ripped in more places than it should have been, and he decided on what to insist on. He took her hand and said, "Come on."

"Where?" she asked, but he didn't answer, because they arrived at their destination about five steps later - a bathroom. "Oh."

She then followed him inside silently, and after he flipped on the light and took a brief look around to make sure what he needed was actually in there, he closed the door behind her and locked it.

Summer almost immediately slumped against the small counter in front of the shower, and she muttered, "I don't think I'm gonna be much fun."

"I'm not trying to have fun," he replied, stepping in front of her and lifting her chin with his finger. "You'll feel better once you've washed off the... fire."

"I can do it myself," she said, but with a tone weary enough to make that seem rather doubtful.

"You don't have to," he replied quietly, and she didn't argue after that.

The first thing he did was turn on the shower to get the water warming up, and then, finally feeling like he had a purpose again tonight, he turned back to the tired woman still slumped against the counter, and he motioned for her to turn so that he could undo the back of her dress. She complied, and as he brushed her hair over her shoulder to get to the dress, she said, "This is so not how I thought this night would end."

"Me either," he replied honestly, finding the parts of the dress that needed undoing and slowly working the top of it down.

"It was supposed to be super sexy and ridiculous... not... traumatic and... stupid."

With the dress down to her hips, he turned her and then instantly noticed the smattering of bruises over her left ribs. It wasn't just simple bruising - it was ugly, and his eyes widened as he demanded, "What - how did you get those?"

"Thor," she muttered. "He kind of slammed me into a wall when the bomb went off. Saved my life, but I'm pretty sure my ribs are bruised."

He gave her a look, knowing she must not have mentioned this to the paramedics, and then he examined her ribs himself to see if they felt broken or not. It wasn't wholly reliable, but he knew what to feel for, and after a few moments of gentle testing with his flesh hand, he decided they were indeed merely bruised and then said, "You've got to ice this."

"I forgot about it," she shrugged, but he didn't believe her. He knew how much it hurt to breathe with bruised ribs.

"You can't just..." he began, fully intend on scolding her for not following her own motherly advice on paying close attention to injuries, but he bit his tongue and shook his head, refocusing on getting her dress off and getting her into the shower. Now that he knew of that particular injury, he made sure to check the rest of her for others as he went, not wanting to take any chances.

Once he was satisfied that she was indeed fine, he led her to the shower, which had already filled half the small space with steam, and helped her get in first before he even had his own shirt off. He just didn't want her cold. Once she was safely under the spray of the warm water, he tossed everything he was wearing into a corner - it had been a decent suit at the start of the night, at least - and then climbed in after her.

The last time they'd been in a shower together had been just a few days before, and under much different circumstances. This was a far cry from the sort of thing they'd normally do in here, and for a moment, he just stared at her back and wondered exactly how he was supposed to comfort her and care for her in the way that he wanted. It came so easily for her when it came to him, but he'd never really gotten the chance to do something like this for her. She hadn't needed it.

Tentatively, he placed a hand on her shoulder and turned her towards him, and she took a breath as she brushed her now-wet hair back on her head and looked up at him with the same weary, almost empty expression as before. He tried not to frown, hating seeing her like this, and his hand went to her cheek and cupped it gently before moving into her hair and angling her head towards the stream of water. She closed her eyes, but he didn't think it was because she enjoyed anything about it.

He used generic, cheap shampoo that was in a basket suctioned to the walls behind him to wash her hair, which wasn't the easiest thing to do when one of your hands was made of metal. She had a lot of hair to deal with, but he managed, and he tried to ease some of the tension from her face with soft, massaging touches to her scalp with his right hand. It seemed to help, and once her hair was clean, she opened her eyes, and he realized how close they were - he was essentially cradling her to his chest, and she stared at him for a few seconds before bringing her lips to his in a kiss he wasn't expecting.

Her arms went around his neck as he kissed her in return, and his hands left her hair and went to her waist cautiously as she deepened the kiss. One of her hands made a small but tight fist in the back of his hair as she pressed herself against him, and though their hands didn't wander, the kisses didn't stop until he realized suddenly that they had begun to taste wrong. He opened his eyes and drew away slightly, then felt his heart drop a little when he saw that she was crying, and had been for awhile.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, wiping at her face and shaking her head. "I don't know why I'm crying. Everybody's okay. I shouldn't be crying."

"Summer..."

She continued to shake her head and said, "I don't want to cry. I don't want to be weak or... stupid..."

"You're not," he said seriously, hands cradling her head again as his frown deepened.

"Then why am I sobbing like an idiot?" she asked. "I'm just... I'm sick of places I live blowing up and I'm sick of David having to constantly adjust to new places and feeling like I'm the biggest failure of a mother ever because he keeps almost... almost..."

She broke down fully then, and he pulled her close and let her. He didn't like that she thought she was showing weakness by crying or otherwise falling apart, but it wasn't the first time he'd noticed that she may think along those lines on a regular basis. Maybe it was a symptom of being a mother to a child who needed a strong, stable parent even more than a typical child would, and of being the girlfriend to a man that she'd once found sitting on her old couch with a gun to his own head, back when he first met her. Any idiot could see that she thought she needed to be strong at all times, no matter what, for the sake of those complicated and sometimes difficult people she loved the most.

But she was only human. And her humanity was one of the reasons he had come so far in recovering his.

"I'm sorry," he said into her ear as he held her, his hand soothing along her back as she continued to cry. "I promised you would be safe and you weren't. I'm sorry."

She shook her head and raised it so that she could meet his gaze and said, "Don't say that. Please don't, I can't... I just can't hear you blame yourself right now. You've got to stop blaming yourself for everything."

But he could. And he probably always would. Regardless, he nodded and then pulled her back into his embrace, and they were silent for a few moments, aside from her sniffling and his occasional light kiss he'd drop on her head or neck.

"I love you," he eventually murmured against her ear, and he could feel her chest heave just a little against his with a small but present wave of fresh tears. He may have been an idiot with overwhelming and considerably crippling guilt issues, and she may have been a woman who placed higher expectations on herself than on the actual superheroes that she was personally acquainted with, and neither of them would ever be perfect or accurate in their assessments of their own selves, but that was why he refused to let her go until the tears finally stopped. He didn't care about any of that. He cared about her, and he hoped that his words and his actions showed her just a fraction of just how much he truly did.

And, to his relief, comforting her calmed the storm within himself, if only while she was in his arms.

**A/N: So, finally some action here after a semi-peaceful period. I was very eager to get to this point of the story, because it opened up the door for the next phase, which I have been impatiently waiting to write for quite a while now lol. This might also somewhat mark the halfway point, but I'm not really sure how accurate that is. I've been assuming the story would end up around 30-35 chapters, but since I'm crap as competently planning such things, I'm just gonna say this is probably halfway-ish. Lol. And that there is lots of angst yet ahead. And happy stuff too. But the angstiest of angst is yet to come. ANYWAY. Thank you to you lovely, wonderful, awesome readers and reviewers and followers, you are the best and once again I thank you for sticking with me. Thank you to midnightwings96 who was incredibly helpful in helping to plot out and detail the action in this chapter, since I am utter crap when it comes to figuring out how to do that lol. I'll see you all next week! :D**


	18. Chapter 18

Summer awoke suddenly and with a sharp jerk the following morning after David had just barely stirred in her arms. The motion woke him up just as abruptly, and as they laid there staring at one another with slightly pounding heart rates, Summer quickly recalled the last day's events and then closed her eyes with a deep sigh and a slight wince at the instant ache in her bruised ribs.

"Sorry," she muttered, hugging the boy to herself. "Time to get up, I guess."

When it came to her traumatic memories, the ones from yesterday did not rank near the top. Unfortunately, David and herself had both been even closer to death before, more than once, but that didn't stop it from still being difficult. At this point, the fact that she was almost getting used to things like this happening was presenting a problem all of its own, and as much as she would like to pretend that it was all no big deal, she simply could not. And she supposed that manifested in the form of her mini-breakdown the night before.

It was hard enough to cry and briefly lose it in front of another person, particularly one you wanted to appear attractive and strong towards at all times. But losing it while also naked and wet while they were washing your hair - she almost wanted to cry all over again just thinking about it. It was entirely unintentional and completely not ideal and ended up leaving her feeling an odd sense of guilt at the way Bucky had comforted her, as if she should have been the one making sure he was okay instead of vice versa.

Instead of dwelling on this, she carefully got up and got herself and David to the bathroom to prepare for the day ahead. There would be a lot to deal with - keeping David balanced with yet another great disruption of his routine and the lack of their belongings, figuring out where they were going to go, presumably, while the tower was getting repaired, and inquiring when she could reasonably expect to work again and get her stuff out of the tower. She didn't even have her phone on her.

In the middle of brushing her teeth with a new toothbrush that she'd fished out of a drawer the night before, her thoughts regarding her phone made her nearly choke on the toothpaste in her mouth when she realized her brother was probably dead from sheer worry and panic across the country. The bombing had to be top news, and she hadn't even thought once of giving Paul a call to tell him that she and David were fine. It was official: she was the worst sister ever. She'd disown herself if she could, just because of this alone.

With a new sense of urgency, she got them out of the bathroom and dug through the sole dresser in the room in an attempt to find something new for them both to wear, but she came up rather short. Half of the dresser held clothes for an average sized man, and the other for an average sized woman, which meant David was stuck in what he'd worn from the tower for now, and that there was little point in changing herself. After the rather emotional shower the night before, Bucky had taken it upon himself to dry her off and then dress her before physically laying her in the bed next to David before kissing her goodnight. The sweatpants and nondescript t-shirt she was in was fine for now, but the fact that her dress from the party had required the lack of a bra was haunting her now. She could really use some upper torso support. It was going to be weird walking around all day like that.

Ignoring this, Summer took David's hand and led the already slightly anxious boy out the door and through the small hallway that led to the kitchen. She instantly heard familiar voices wafting from the room, and it smelled like somebody had already been cooking that morning. When she reached the kitchen, she saw Bucky and Steve seated at the small little four-seater table on the right of the room, and on the left, Natasha and Clint were standing near the stove speaking quietly. Nobody looked very happy, and in fact, Bucky in particular looked like he hadn't slept at all.

He noticed her almost instantly, his face brightening up a bit when he saw her. She walked through the doorway, offering him a small smile before saying, "If anybody's got a phone, I seriously need one to call my brother."

"He knows you're safe," Bucky quickly replied.

She blinked and asked, "He... does?"

"I sent him a message after you fell asleep," Bucky said, and Summer could have sunk to the floor and fainted from the sheer relief of knowing that Paul hadn't been having the world's biggest meltdown while she had been sleeping.

"Oh, thank you," she all but gushed, nearly collapsing with relief into the chair next to his at the table, while she placed David beside herself and Steve. "Seriously, I was panicking because I completely forgot to even think about how what happened would be on the news."

Bucky nodded, his expression making her think that he was very distracted at the moment and not by pleasant things, but he cleared his throat slightly and said, "He said to tell you that he's going to kill you if you keep almost getting killed."

"... Sounds like him," she replied. She then looked around the room, realizing that it had fallen silent since her entrance, and after a moment, she muttered, "So..."

"We're trying to figure out where exactly to go from here," Steve said, while Bucky stared at the table. "We're not as safe as we thought we were, obviously, so the focus right now is figuring out where we can go while the tower's repaired."

Summer nodded, glancing at Natasha and then Clint before asking, "And the, uh... man..." _that I heard Natasha torturing,_ she mentally added but verbally stifled for David's sake.

"Gone," Steve quickly said. When Summer's eyes widened a little bit, his did as well and he quickly added, "FBI."

"Oh," she nodded. Of course. "Okay, so... should I look for an apartment, or..."

"No," Natasha answered, and Summer looked to her as she shook her head slightly. "For right now, we should stick together. That includes you."

Before Summer could think up an answer, Clint muttered, "I'm telling you, there's not that much room."

"There's plenty of room," Natasha argued, giving him a look. "I've been there."

"It's not a hotel. And it's not kid-proof. At all."

"He's a good kid," Nat shrugged, gesturing to David, who was watching everything silently but carefully. "It's not like he'll bounce off the walls and destroy your chicken coops."

Summer furrowed her brows and then glanced at Steve, then Bucky, and then Natasha again in time for Clint to reply, "I'm not worried about _him_ destroying anything. That's not the point."

"It's temporary," Natasha replied. "And it's best for them to leave the city for a little while."

"What's temporary?" Summer asked. "Where are we going?"

"Clint's farm," Natasha replied.

"I didn't even agree yet," Clint muttered.

"Right now, it's our best option," Natasha shrugged to him.

"Oh. A farm," Summer said, having not expected anything even remotely like that. "Okay. Cool." She paused again. "Where?"

"Undisclosed location," Clint replied.

"Pennsylvania," Natasha said.

Clint sighed mildly as if his were pained. "Nat..."

Summer looked around again, again taking note at how generally displeased everybody looked, especially Clint, and she said, "Look, I don't... want to be a burden on anybody, and I can always stay with my brother for awhile if I need to, so..."

Almost all at once, every male in the room began protesting - Clint because he hadn't meant to give her that impression, Steve because he was Steve, and Bucky because the very idea of Summer on an entirely opposite coast was utterly horrific. David snuggled closer to her side at all the noises, and Summer blinked when they stopped and let Clint have the floor.

"You and your kid won't be a burden. What I'm worried about is having a place that I've done a damn good job literally keeping off the map end up on the map anyway."

"I won't tell anybody, if that's what you're worried about," Summer shrugged.

"No friends or family that won't come hunting you down?" Clint asked.

"Well, the only friends I really have are... like... superheroes that you know," she shrugged, "and as for family, all I've got is my brother. And he knows about everything already. I have a weird life."

Clint nodded, seeming to accept that, then glanced at Bucky and then back to her before replying, "One of these days I'm gonna ask exactly how you and your kid ended up in the middle of all this."

She pointed at Bucky with her thumb and said, "I found him bleeding and shot outside my house in Virginia. Then like five months later HYDRA blew up my house and now I'm here." After a pause, she added, "I left a lot out."

Clint sighed, not bothering to ask. "All right. But once the tower's fixed, I'm kicking everybody out."

"Thank you," Summer replied before Steve could launch into a grateful speech of his own. "I'll help with whatever I can while I'm there. Cook, clean, you name it."

"I heard about your food from Thor," Clint said. "'Delectable balls of meat', his exact words."

She grinned widely and almost squeaked, "He said that?"

"He did, but we do have more important things to talk about," Natasha pointed out. "We need to get moving."

"Right," Steve sighed, automatically stepping into leader-mode. "I'll call Stark to have our stuff sent to your place, Clint, if that's okay with you."

"As long as it's someone we can trust doing the sending."

Steve nodded somewhat wearily, as if the very word "trust" made his bones hurt. "Right."

"Is Pepper okay?" Summer asked, hoping she hadn't interrupted, but she had meant to ask after her sooner.

"Yeah, she's doing fine," Steve nodded. "Worst of it's a broken ankle, but it would have been a lot worse if Bucky hadn't have found her."

She glanced at Bucky to find him almost immediately glance down to the table, as if the truth of what he'd done made him uncomfortable to speak of or hear of. She knew why that was, though, and she hoped he'd eventually allow himself to acknowledge his own good deeds rather than just brush it off like he wasn't worthy of recognition even when he saved a life.

"Did anyone not make it?" she asked Steve quietly.

"There's a few in critical condition," Steve replied. "Bad burns. One's in a coma."

She digested that information for a moment, then asked, "Why did it happen? Was it HYDRA? Did they just feel like bombing Iron Man's tower?"

When nobody seemed capable of answering her for a moment, Natasha stepped in and said, "Since it doesn't exist anymore, it can't hurt if you know. We were using a floor of the tower as a base for our own operations. Nobody was supposed to know about it. But somebody did, and they took it out."

"Oh. So... Avengers operations," Summer deduced.

"Right," Natasha confirmed. "It was supposed to be the safest place for us."

But these people, Summer had long ago realized, were never safe, and as long as she was with them, neither was she. But what was safety, anyway? Even if she was back at home in Virginia and none of this had ever happened, she could still get in her car and die the way her parents had. Safety was never a guarantee for anyone, regardless of circumstance.

She glanced at Bucky and saw him frowning deeply now, and she could only hope he wasn't going to get stuck in another guilt-fueled funk again. She'd have to nip this one in the bud, if she even could.

"I'm only going to say this once," Natasha said. "If you ever change your mind about any of this, I can arrange for you and your son to disappear to anywhere you'd like within 24 hours. I don't expect you to ever take up this offer. But it's there, and it's your decision."

Taken slightly aback by that, Summer stared at Nat for a moment before again glancing at Bucky, who still refused to look up at anyone. But when she spoke her next words, she spoke them without a trace of doubt. "Thank you. That actually means a lot to me. But you're right. I probably never will take that offer."

Natasha smiled, just a little, and nodded. "Then I hope you like chickens."

Summer laughed. From a high-tech corporate tower with an electronic butler to a farm owned by Robin Hood. Life was nothing if not very, very interesting.

* * *

He might have been in a better mood if he'd managed to sleep at all the night before, but he simply had not. Once he'd gotten Summer to bed, in her own room, the rest of the night had been spent in restless thought that did nothing to ease his nerves or solve a single thing.

Now, in the light of morning, he was listening to the woman he loved verbally disavow the very idea of personal safety and once again accompany him to a weird place following another attack. He would never stop hating being the reason why she wasn't safe. But what could he do? Walk away? Drive her away, for her own good?

He wouldn't do that. He couldn't, not now. He would simply have to do a better job of protecting her, though that seemed hard to do when he was still not allowed on missions or any sort of work that he was actually qualified for.

So, he drank the generic, unpleasant coffee the house supplied and watched the morning pass by, staying quiet and trying to calm his thoughts. He watched Summer do what she could for breakfast with what was in the house, and her general state of calm following her brief breakdown the night before was a balm to his own nerves. He could tell that she wasn't entirely at ease, and surely the thought of adjusting to yet another new place was weighing heavily on her, but he could also tell that she wasn't faking her calm. Perhaps she was getting used to living like this.

If that was the case, it only made him angrier.

In the midst of stewing internally, he suddenly heard her voice and looked up to find her setting down a plate in front of him. He looked at her in slight surprise, and she shrugged and said, "I figured you hadn't eaten yet. It's just eggs. It's all I could find."

He didn't know why he was as surprised. She was as careful to keep him fed as she was with her son. He thanked her and she smiled before getting herself and David's food, and then he realized that the room had emptied for all but the three of them once she had taken her seat next to his once more.

"Thank you, again, for getting a message to my brother," she said as soon as she sat down, and he met her gaze as she looked at him with pure sincerity. "I don't even know how you remembered to think of him in the middle of everything."

He shrugged. "I didn't really sleep last night. Had a lot of time to think, I guess."

"Did you sleep at all?" she asked with a frown, taking a bite of her own food.

He shrugged again. "Not really."

His sleeping had been getting gradually better over the weeks. Where he used to be lucky to get four hours altogether, some nights now he could manage six hours uninterrupted, which was a huge improvement. But it was only some nights, and those nights tended to be the ones where Summer fell asleep with him. It hadn't always been that way, especially during the days that he had greatly feared accidentally hurting her during a nightmare, but now her presence next to him was a peaceful thing that helped the sleep come. But she had someone who needed her more, and he understood that, which was why he hadn't even asked and had simply placed her in her own bed next to David the night before.

"Well, hopefully tonight you can sleep and make up what you missed," she said, and he nodded. He didn't really expect to, though.

Then it was silent for a bit, and when Summer spoke next, she quietly began, "I didn't ask you last night because so much was in my head with everything that had happened... but what happened when the bomb went off? Where were you?"

Bucky only hesitated a moment before launching into the story of how he'd trailed someone he considered suspicious only to ended up drugged and unconscious underneath a collapsed wall that would have meant his death had he not been equipped with an arm capable of destroying it. She nearly choked on her food at several points in the story, eyebrows nearly touching her hairline when he told her the part about being drugged and then disappearing altogether when she listened to how he'd had to punch his way to survival.

"Why didn't you tell me all of that last night?" she half-gasped with wide eyes. "And how did you come out of all of that with like no injuries?"

" I -"

"I mean, yeah, super soldier and everything, but you're still human and..."

"I'm fine," he shrugged.

"Are you sure?" she asked, fully serious and entirely doubtful.

For the first time that day, he let himself smile a little bit. She really had no idea how durable he really was. "Yeah. I'm sure."

She eyed his smile a bit suspiciously, but let it go after that. She also tried to change the subject, clearly sick of talking about injuries and things blowing up, but there was really no ignoring the elephant in the room that day. Soon after they'd eaten, Tony Stark showed up to the house unexpectedly, and was devoid of his usual humor and sass as he got straight to business with his fellow Avengers in the living room. He looked incredibly tired and drained in the five seconds that Bucky had watched him pass by the kitchen.

He expected Tony's departure to signal the departure of everyone else, so he waited idly and intentionally away from the others, wanting to just get it over with and get where they were going. He checked Summer's bruises and helped her with anything he could to kill time, and when he eventually ran out of excuses to stand around and do nothing, he wandered back into the kitchen and ended up getting more than he bargained for.

He'd filled a glass of water from the sink and then turned only to stand very still as he came face to face with Tony, standing near the doorway looking almost as awkward as Bucky instantly felt for a few seconds before shaking his head and muttering, "All right, I'm gonna spare us both the weirdness here and just say what I came to say."

Bucky set the glass in his hand down on the counter behind him and braced himself for whatever would come next. Tony crossed his arms, looking briefly at the floor before taking a few steps closer and saying, "I'm sure this isn't exactly the surprise of the year, but when Steve first asked me if you could stay in my building, I told him to stop smoking whatever he was on and call me when he was back in his right mind. And when I realized that he was serious and not actually on drugs, I laughed in his face and told him to get the hell out of my tower for even suggesting it."

Bucky was neither surprised nor offended by the story, so he continued to stare calmly as Tony went on. "If you're wondering what changed my mind, it wasn't what, but who. And the who was Pepper. She didn't exactly _want_ you living with us, but she did her research on you back when your girlfriend called us to get you and Steve in touch last year. She saw the full picture that I couldn't. I still can't, sometimes, I'm gonna be honest. Maybe I never will. You'll always be the guy that killed my parents, whether it was you or HYDRA that pulled the trigger."

Bucky nodded silently, looking away and deciding that he could accept that. His own perceptions of himself weren't always much better, so he could expect little else from certain others, Tony especially.

"But now you're also the guy that saved Pepper's life. And I have to wonder - out of everyone in that building, why did you save her?"

Bucky's jaw clenched as he paused, taking a moment to gather his thoughts before replying, "I only wanted to get Summer out. I was trying to get to her when I found Pepper, and I couldn't..." he shook his head, "I couldn't."

Tony seemed to understand, nodding after a moment and replying, "See, at first I didn't care about the brainwashing. Especially since you knew my dad back then. I said that brainwashing could only go so far as an excuse. I told Pepper that it wasn't like Loki zapped you with his blue glowstick like he did with Clint - that was different, that was magic and that was excusable. But then she had me read some of your files and I realized that I was wrong. Which doesn't happen often. But it did. And eventually I gave in and let you stay. I still didn't like it and I tracked your every move in and out of the tower. Even read all your therapist's notes and files on you." When Bucky's expression grew slightly alarmed, Tony gave a slight shrug and said, "He doesn't know I did. My point is - I was tolerating you just out of... I don't know. Morbid curiosity maybe. But whatever it was, I never thought a day would come when I would look you in the eye and thank you for something."

Almost instantly, Bucky wanted to squirm as he shook his head and said, "I'm not - you don't have to thank me, or -"

"Except I do," Tony interrupted. "Because Pepper's been the glue that holds me together before I even realized that I needed glue."

Bucky shook his head again. "Doesn't make up for what I did."

"No it doesn't," Tony replied frankly. "Nothing does. Nothing can change what happened. But you changed what _could_ have happened. And even though I'll never be your best friend or particularly want to catch a football game with you, I'll always be grateful that you did what you did. And that makes it a hell of a lot easier to do what I'm doing now, which is say let's just... move on."

Bucky didn't bother to hide his shock at those words. He stared at the other man for a minute before looking up and asking quietly, "Are you sure?"

"As I'll ever be," Tony shrugged. "Might want to hurry up and agree before I change my mind."

Bucky nodded quickly, blinking and still unsure of exactly what was happening. Tony then drew a deep breath, as if relieved that he'd said what he'd needed to and now the moment was over.

"All right. Good. Now that pigs have officially flown, I need to get back to the hospital."

Bucky nodded again, possibly limited to that single gesture in the middle of his lingering shock, and as Tony walked away, he yelled out towards the doorway, "You can stop listening now, Rogers!"

A dull thud against the wall made Bucky nearly laugh, because he should have figured that Steve would have his ear pressed to the nearest wall or door to listen to the most unexpected conversation in recent history.

Alone once more, he stood there and let his mind wander, and to his surprise, he almost felt a bit... lighter, somehow. It wasn't a dramatic difference, but it was there, and it was real, and it felt good. Tony was right about the past, about what he'd done and how nothing could ever really make up for it, especially the worst of it, but maybe that wasn't the point. Maybe the point was changing what he could change, which was the present, and making it mean something.

How he could do that, he wasn't entirely sure. But if it began with saving Pepper's life, then surely that was nothing if not a decent start.

* * *

It ended up being Steve who explained to Summer in a whispered rush of words why Bucky had gone from grim to oddly sort of pleasant out of nowhere, just before the group departed for Pennsylvania. The truth of it made her smile, and she began to notice her habit of tying her own mood to her son starting to bleed over to Bucky as well. She wasn't sure if it was exactly a good thing, but for all to be well in her own mind, all had to be well with the two of them.

But only one was well that day, as she expected, and the car ride out of town was as miserable she figured it would have been. It wasn't too terribly long, and she sat in the back with David as Bucky again drove his "borrowed" car, but with nothing to entertain the already-tense child or soothe him, Summer was stuck with trying to tell him some of his favorite stories from memory and singing silly songs just to keep him reasonably calm. He wanted to go home and he wanted his things, but they were probably looking at at least a month out of the tower and a few days before their belongings could be safely retrieved and sent to them. And those few days ran the risk of feeling like an eternity for both Summer and David.

But there was very little she could do, so she did her best with what she had, which wasn't much, and watched as the city roads eventually became less crowded, more country ones as they crossed the state line. Bucky was a calm, quiet driver, but also thoughtful, as he made sure to stop and feed his passengers before they reached their destination. It was all so very domestic and almost normal-feeling, Summer could almost ignore the fact that they were retreating into somewhat of an exile following another attempt on their lives. Or at least some of their lives.

Exile, as it turned out, was called Hawkeye Ranch, and it was everything she'd imagined it to be in her head. Sitting on a green, healthy looking chunk of land in the middle of nothing was the farm, with a tractor sitting out front and everything, and as the cherry on top, a few loose chickens bobbing around the front porch. There was also a cute little red barn behind the house, behind rows of what looked like some nice, tall corn crops. It was, in Summer's view, a rather impressive farm for one of the world's most deadly assassins to call their own.

"Well, this is... definitely farm-y," she said, a grin on her face as Bucky parked the car behind Natasha's in the dirt.

"It's small," Bucky said, looking at the fairly modest building with a slight frown as she unbuckled her seatbelt.

"It's bigger than my house," she shrugged. "Or what was my house."

Once the engine was off, Clint came strolling out of the front door in a baseball hat and blue flannel shirt, apparently coming to greet them as they got out of the car. Summer was holding David's hand and leading him up the small dirt pathway to the door when Clint called out, "No stolen property on my farm."

Summer glanced behind her to Bucky, who was walking a step or two behind her, and watched as he looked at Clint blankly in response. Clint stared back for a moment, and Summer suddenly wondered if the car was actually going to be a problem just before Clint grinned and then chuckled. "No, but really. Get it off within a few days."

Bucky nodded to that, and then as they approached the small number of chickens pecking around the porch steps, David slowed down and swung behind Summer to get away from them. Wanting to avoid the issue entirely, she bent down and picked him up, explaining gently, "They're just chickens. They're not gonna hurt you."

And then, just to prove her wrong, the sole rooster of the bunch - a white and black one with puffed up feathers and particularly suspicious eyes - decided to dive beak-first into her legs rather viciously the minute she put her foot on the first step.

"What the fricking - ahhh!" she exclaimed out of pure surprise rather than actual pain, though the sudden pecking attack did hurt. Swiftly, Clint stepped down and kicked the chicken off of her, and afterwards, the offending fowl refluffed its feathers and cocked its head at Summer with its beady eyes focused on her just before strutting away. She blinked at the oddness of it all, then glanced at Clint before muttering, "... Thanks."

"That one's a jerk," Clint explained. "Doesn't like women. Natasha almost shot it when it did the same thing to her."

He then turned around and headed back into the house, and Summer glanced at Bucky just in time to catch his "what the actual hell are we doing here" expression before he looked at her and changed it into an "oh my God, we're on an actual farm" expression. Or something like that.

Once inside the home, Clint led them on a minimalist but efficient tour of the place, telling them what was what and where was where, what was theirs to use, (books, kitchen appliances, things of that sort) what they'd need to ask about first (DVD collection), and what was off limits at all times (the locked basement, which was apparently where he kept what Bucky would consider the cool stuff, i.e. weapons). There was two bathrooms and only three bedrooms, which Clint thought was fine until Summer reluctantly had to point out that the three of them couldn't share one room and that Bucky needed his own.

Clint turned in the middle of the upper floor hallway and looked at them a bit puzzled and asked, "Really?"

Summer shrugged and said, "Yeah, he has nightmares and... you know, with David," she gestured to the boy still in her arms, "we try to be... extra... cautious."

Clint looked back and forth between them and then said, "Right. Then you," he said to Bucky, "can sleep in my office. I don't use it much and there's room for a bed. Unless you want to bunk with the other lovebirds."

"No," Bucky replied extremely quickly. "Office is fine."

From there, Clint showed them to where Summer and David would be staying, which was less than half the size of the giant room they had back at the tower, but it felt more like an actual room in a real home than that one did. There was one queen size bed on a wood frame and the sheets were a bland off-white and the walls a very neutral beige, but there were old-fashioned light switches and a window that didn't take up an entire wall, and all in all, it was almost a sigh of relief. She hadn't expected feeling that way, but there was something to be said for dwelling in a real home as opposed to a skyscraper.

Clint left them for a moment while Summer took David to go look out the window next to the bed, and she found that they had a charming view of the barn and what looked like a pin of goats that was next to the barn. Everything was so green and unpolluted and... real looking. She felt a sudden pang of homesickness for her home that didn't exist anymore.

"Well, what do you think?" she asked David as his own eyes darted about and took in the scenery. She brushed his dark hair back on his head and said, "I think it's pretty nice. Maybe tomorrow we can go look at all the animals here." David looked up at her in sudden slight alarm, and she smiled and quickly added, "We'll avoid the evil rooster. But we'll find stuff to do... and in a few days we'll have our stuff back, and everything will be all right."

David merely hugged himself to her in response, and she hugged him back, wishing so much of what helped him function wasn't always utterly out of her control. But, maybe this wasn't so bad. Bucky was here, Steve was here, and that meant David's favorite people besides her were still there and still close. And besides, David was as tough as a little soldier. If he could face a building fire with a toy shield on his arm, this was absolutely nothing.

Meanwhile, as Summer took the quiet moment and embraced it for all it was worth, Clint was showing Bucky his "office", and gesturing loosely to the single desk and rather thin and sleek computer system sitting on top of it. "As you can see, it's pretty much a desk and a chair and that's it. Room's small but a twin bed or something could fit over there..."

Bucky shrugged and said, "It's fine."

"I don't have an extra bed, so you might want to grab one in town," Clint suggested. "Or you can just keep your stuff in here and sleep on the couch."

But Bucky only shrugged again. "I'll figure something out."

Clint paused for a minute before asking, "You must not plan on sleeping much."

"Not really," Bucky admitted, glancing at the other man.

"You know what can help the nightmares sometimes?" Clint asked before answering, "Reading. I wasn't always much of a reader, but it helps keep my head clear of the stuff the nightmares come from. I usually don't have them when I fall asleep reading."

Bucky nodded slightly, then asked quietly after a pause, "How many hours do you get?"

"Probably six on average, but it depends," Clint replied. "Took me awhile to get there though. Didn't sleep at all for two months or so."

"I had just gotten to six hours recently, but..." Bucky shrugged. "I have a feeling it'll be back to four."

"Well," Clint replied, "if you can't sleep, feel free to get up and give me a hand with my goats in the mornings. I get up at six every day to take care of everything."

Trying to hide his immediate and irrational horror at the thought of helping tend to a farm, Bucky furrowed his brows and asked, "What do you... do with goats?"

"Milk them."

Bucky stared with slightly wider eyes and said, "You... want me to help... with that?"

"Just offering to give you something to do. That's one of the reasons why I have this place. Staying busy means staying sane."

Bucky was starting to believe that was definitely true. But he was fairly sure he'd be better suited keeping busy with something other than goats. "Connor says that," he observed.

"He's right about that one," Clint said. "And by the way, I'm not telling him you're here in case he tries to do some group therapy crap."

"Good idea," Bucky affirmed.

"Also," Clint said on a departing note, "keep in mind that these walls are about as thin as a piece of paper, so try to keep it down. I told Nat the same thing. My hearing isn't exactly the greatest but I'm not deaf. And I've heard stories."

One half of Bucky wanted to grin in a bragging sort of way and the other wanted to merely roll his eyes and ignore that particular admonition. He settled on replying, "Can't make any promises there."

Clint grimaced a little and then said, "Then I'll pitch a tent in the woods and that can be where you couples can go and yell each other's names as loud as you want."

Then, as the man trudged off grumbling about why he had to play host to not one but two rather sickening couples, Bucky grinned faintly and decided, at least for the time being, that this Clint guy was all right.

* * *

Upon settling into her first day at the farm, Summer realized two things; first, that David was getting quite heavy as he neared his sixth birthday, since her arms were about to fall off after letting him hang on her like some kind of monkey all day, and second, that Clint Barton had the single best taste in food of all of the Avengers.

To her shock, her first tentative peek inside his pantry made her jaw drop with how stocked and utterly delicious the contents appeared to be. She was used to buying off-brand stuff and holding her nose and pretending to be all right with the sort of non-organic products she had read entirely too many negative things about, but Clint appeared to eat only the not-cheap organic stuff. And it was good stuff.

His spice cabinet was even better. He even had saffron - the real, imported, ridiculously expensive stuff - and she had to pick up the bottle of it and just hold it for a moment, while David hung at her side playing with her messy side-braid.

"Having fun?" Clint suddenly asked from out of nowhere behind her, making her jump and almost drop the precious bottle.

"No, I mean yeah, sorry!" she half-stuttered, turning around and smiling with the bottle in hand. "I just - wow! Saffron. I've only seen this stuff on cooking shows. The ones hosted by rich old women who live in the Hamptons."

"Barefoot Contessa," Clint nodded, and Summer's jaw dropped even more.

"You watch the Food Network."

"Sometimes. It's good for ideas. Her food's the best."

"_Yes_," Summer agreed wholeheartedly. "This is amazing. I had no idea you were so... like..."

"... Not a fan of eating garbage when I can help it?" Clint supplied, and she nodded quickly. "Yeah. Takeout gets old."

"Definitely," she smiled. "So, I'm not gonna lie, I'm kind of dying to cook in here now."

"Knock yourself out," Clint shrugged, and her smile grew wider.

"Awesome! Any ideas for dinner tonight?"

After a minute of brief deliberation, Clint said, "Not really, but there's chicken in the fridge that needs to be cooked."

"Okay," she nodded, "I can figure something out." Then she paused and asked, "Is it... chicken you bought at the store, or..."

Clint's answer was a rather deadpan, blank expression, and when she grimaced a little bit at that, he started to grin and then finally answered, "I'll never tell."

Then he walked away, leaving her in the small but perfectly sufficient kitchen, trying not to think about the chickens outside and the chicken in his refrigerator, and instead brainstorming ideas for both dinner and how exactly to go about cooking it with a little boy glued to her side.

While contemplating these things, she opened the bottle of saffron and sniffed at it, then sighed and screwed the lid back on before muttering to herself, "One day, I'm gonna have my own bottle of this crap, just like Robin Hood and Barefoot Contessa, and it's gonna be freakin' awesome."

* * *

While Summer worked on dinner a bit later, Bucky found himself nearly gaping at Steve as he received his second shock of the day. Much more and his face would permanently freeze in its then-current expression of being simply flabbergasted.

They were standing in the hallway, outside the door of the room that Steve was sharing with Natasha, and for a good minute or so, Bucky had no idea what to say. He just stood there, floundering for a moment before half-croaking, "After last time... you want me to come with you? On another mission?"

"I know what happened last time was bad," Steve replied quietly, "but it'll be different this time. We've got a few leads and none of them involve facilities you might have been kept at. Last time was too much too soon. It won't be this time."

"But... I still don't know if..."

"Look," Steve sighed, "I know this is eating you up, I can tell. I know you don't want to be stuck on the sidelines. I don't want that for you either."

"But if I screw up," Bucky muttered, "or hurt someone, or -"

"And if you don't?" Steve countered, but that only made Bucky frown more. "I mean, look at how good you've been doing - you're sleeping better, you're calmer, you've got a great relationship, you're _dancing_. I won't push you if you don't think you're ready to try again, but for what it's worth, I think you are."

Bucky's mind was suddenly racing, wondering if Steve was right and if he really could - or should - try again. But his last experience in the field was still fresh in his mind, even these months later, and he couldn't afford a repeat performance. His fragile state that night after facing his past had resulted in Summer losing her home and nearly so much more, and he couldn't risk that again.

"Just think about it," Steve said when Bucky couldn't even begin to come up with an answer, patting his shoulder. "No rush. I'll keep you updated."

Bucky nodded, still nearly unable to believe that Steve actually wanted him on the next mission when it was time for one. He couldn't deny how much he wanted to go, how much a part of him needed to go, to do what he knew how to do and put to rest the voice in his head that liked to remind him that he was doing nothing to stop the people out there who would see those he cared about hurt or killed. But his anxiety after his last rather disastrous outing in the field was a very effective counter to that motivation.

He spent the rest of the night in somewhat of a daze, thinking over Steve's words and wondering what his therapist would say, and what Summer would say. He was a lot more nervous to tell Summer than he was Dr. Connor, however.

She made a simple but satisfying dinner that night, soup in the form of chicken and dumplings, and though he tried to be present with her and, to a far lesser extent, the others crammed around Clint's rather small dinner table, he was a thousand miles away in his head, and he knew that she could tell. She didn't ask what was wrong, though, and he appreciated that she didn't. She knew he would tell her when they got a moment alone, and he knew that she was okay with that.

But that moment didn't come until quite a bit later, after Bucky had tried creating a makeshift bed on Clint's office floor with some spare blankets he'd been lent while Summer got David to bed. Bucky didn't mind sleeping on the floor that much - it was better than sleeping on a bed that was too soft, at least - so he didn't think much of it, even though there was a perfectly good couch in the living room he could have taken instead. In any case, he left the thrown-together mess to go poke around and see if Summer was done yet. Normally she'd just come to his room when she was ready, but he wasn't sure now given the new set-up and how much closer everyone else's rooms were now than they were in the tower.

He ended up finding her back in the kitchen, doing the dishes of all things. There wasn't a dishwasher, so she was having to do it the hard way, and as he approached her from behind, he asked quietly, "Do you really need to do this now?"

"No," she sighed, scrubbing the pot she'd made dinner in. "Everyone offered to do it but I insisted."

"Why?" he asked, reaching her side and turning to lean his back to the counter while she looked up at him briefly and shrugged.

"Because I'm... me," she muttered. "I feel like dead weight sometimes. Living with these super important people who don't need to help me so much but do. So I try to make sure and do what I can, which is pretty much this," she gestured to the sink and kitchen in general.

"You're not dead weight," he replied. "Pretty sure I have that title."

She snorted a little and looked at him in disbelief. "Seriously? You?"

He shrugged and then furrowed his brow a little before glancing down and saying, "Actually, I need to talk to you about something that's sort of... about that."

"You mean the thing that's had you in super deep thought all night?" she smiled, turning off the water and grabbing a towel to dry her hands.

He nodded, then added more quietly, "Yeah, but before that, I wanted to ask you if you could... um..." He trailed off a bit, suddenly unsure how to word his next question. "If you could... stay with me tonight. Not all night. But until I fall asleep."

She blinked in surprise at first, then quickly nodded and said, "Yeah! You know I will."

He nodded. "With David and the changes I wasn't sure if you could."

"He actually fell asleep okay tonight, which was surprising, and he's eating unlike the last time we had to move unexpectedly," she replied. "He might wake up in the middle of the night, though, so I can't stay all night with you."

"I know," he nodded again. "It's just easier to fall asleep with you there."

She smiled softly at that and said, "Yeah, same here. But with you. Not me, obviously."

He grinned at the unnecessary clarification, and then a few moments later they were walking quietly to his "room", which Summer had not seen yet. Once they were in the door, however, she stopped dead in her tracks and stared at the blankets and pillows on the floor as if they were the most offensive thing she'd ever seen in her life.

Then she whipped her head around and asked - or rather demanded - "You don't have a _bed_?!"

A little wide-eyed at her sudden outrage, he tried to shrug her off and say, "I don't really need one for right now. In a few days I can -"

"Yes you do need a bed!" she argued vehemently. "Can't you at least sleep on the couch until we can go get you a bed?"

He hesitated before replying, "The living room feels too... open. I wouldn't be able to sleep there."

She sighed and then turned her critical eye back on the blankets, appearing to unhappily deliberate for a moment before springing into action and picking up the blankets and re-arranging them into something that was apparently more acceptable to her. "I wish you would have said something. I would have gone out and gotten you a bed. You _do_ need a bed. Especially with your sleep problems. How could you think -"

Gently, he caught her arm, and she dropped one of the blankets as he turned her to face him. "Hey. You don't need to do that."

"Do what?"

He thought a moment, and then replied, "Worry about me. I'm fine. It's just sleeping on the floor."

She frowned, even as his hand left her arm to take hers and entwine their fingers before she shook her head and said, "Well, sorry if I think that you've been through enough in your life that the least you should always have is a decent bed to sleep in every night."

Finding her as humorous as he did utterly wonderful, he gave her a short kiss and then almost forgot what he still wanted to talk to her about until she drew a breath and then turned around, saying, "All right, let me test this and see if it's acceptable..."

He watched as she got down on the floor and slid under the top layer of blankets that she'd fluffed and arranged very meticulously, and he waited for the verdict as she laid her head on the pillow and stared up at the ceiling for a moment.

"Eh. It's not the worst, but still not very good."

"I'll live," he replied dismissively. Then he took his shirt off, and she watched quietly from the floor as he undressed, making no effort to hide her ogling but also playing with the ends of her hair with one hand as she did. It was a nervous habit he'd noticed, the way some people bit their nails or chewed pen cap, and he kept it to himself how much he liked that he still somehow made her nervous.

She turned on her side when he slid next to her, settling down within the blankets and finding the set-up perfectly adequate to sleep on. Then he drew her close with his right arm, careful to be mindful of her bruised ribs as he held her and felt an immediate sense of drowsiness set in behind his eyes. He was truly exhausted after the prior day and night, and having not slept at all, but her voice nudged him back to wakefulness. "So... tell me what's going on."

He opened his eyes and drew breath before telling her everything. She listened intently and watched with her head on his chest as he explained what Steve had offered and why he was conflicted about it, his uncertainty and anxiety, and she waited until he'd gotten it all out to say a single word.

When she did speak, it was simple and to the point, but also gentle. "I think you should do it. I'll be a nervous wreck and worry the whole time, but it's... what you do. Or what you did, anyway. I think you _need_ to do it."

"You do?" he asked quietly, looking down at her.

She nodded. "Yeah. And honestly... with everywhere I go blowing up all the time, I might feel a little safer if I knew that you and Captain America were out there fighting together to stop it from happening again. You're... amazing, and you have gifts that can help protect a whole lot of people. I can't be selfish and let how much I'm gonna worry stop me from telling you to do it. I just want you to do whatever you want to do. And I can tell you want to go. You're just scared."

"Last time I led them back to you and almost killed you both," he muttered, scowling at the memory.

"You didn't mean to," she replied. "And you won't do it again. I have faith in you."

While those words would mean something to anyone, for him, they were especially meaningful and not to be taken the slightest bit lightly. It was a little bit easier to believe that he could do it, and possibly anything, when she told him so with such conviction. And she wasn't one to blindly throw her faith around in people who didn't deserve it or had not earned it. Every bit of faith and trust that she had in him had been earned and tested already in ways he wished it hadn't, but it had, and so when she spoke such words, he felt them in ways he felt little else.

His sleepiness returning a bit, he leaned down and kissed her lips softly, just once. He was tired, and he knew that she was tired, and the warmth of her words and feelings were aiding in his inner call to sleep. But, instead of laying her head back down and closing her eyes, she kissed him again, a little more strongly than he had her. He shifted just a bit so that he was fully facing her on his side, and since his right arm was still holding her, his metal hand slid into her hair and gently angled her head as he deepened the kiss, letting his tongue slide softly but skillfully against hers. That was when she let out a little moan, quiet and airy but enough to make his own breath hitch and his drowsiness suddenly disappear.

He opened his eyes as they drew away by an inch or two, and she looked up at him with "her look" that she was still blissfully unaware of. It was a subtle, somewhat shy sort of look, but he knew what it meant when she looked at him with her eyes slightly darkened and her lips parted just enough to let him know that her breathing was getting heavy. She only looked at him that way for a few seconds that time before she kissed him again, her hand leaving his chest to go to his stubbled jaw and then his hair as she kissed him deeply and full of intentions that he mirrored instantly. She did nothing to hide the effect that he had on her, but sometimes he wondered if he knew how mutual it was, and how quickly she could light him up.

His metal hand had wandered down to brush over her chest through the too-big shirt she had on, but as soon as he'd taken a handful of the warm flesh in his grasp, she suddenly broke away and said breathlessly, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry - I know you're tired and you didn't sleep last night, I'll stop."

Staring at her in sudden confusion and mild horror, he shook his head as vehemently as she had shook hers at his lack of a bed and said, "No, don't stop."

"Really?" she asked, studying him briefly to make sure that he meant it before a small smile spread across her lips and she added, "Hey, I'm usually the one saying that."

He grinned back briefly before taking her lips again, his hold on her tightening briefly before she stiffened a little and he remembered her injury. He pulled his arm away and muttered quickly, "Sorry, I'm sorry. I almost forgot."

"It's okay," she assured him, though she did become a bit pained looking as she added, "I did too. I don't think this can't not hurt a little."

He stared at her for a moment before shaking his head and murmuring, "Turn over, your back to me." She only hesitated a moment before doing as he said, and after he slid his arm around her waist and kept all points of contact away from her bruises, he kissed her neck and pulled her all the way against him, asking quietly, "Better?"

"Mm hmm," she answered a bit faintly as he continued raining kisses along her neck while she reached back and tangled her fingers in his hair. "Sure you wouldn't rather sleep?"

He chuckled a little and ran through a number of potential responses in his head, eventually settling on, "Watching you bite a pillow to stay quiet is better."

Her tortured groan in response made his grin grow all the more. "We really do need to be quiet this time," she said. "These walls are -"

"I know," he murmured against her ear as he undressed her as best as he could in their current position. "I'd worry more about me than you."

She groaned again at those words, and for other reasons, eventually muttering, "I think we're doomed to just always be the worst roommates ever."

He grinned. Really, all things considered, he could live with that.

**A/N: Leeeetle bit of a filler here, but a necessary one, and the next couple chapters are some of my favorites :D I had been dying to get everybody on the farm for quite awhile, so getting to this point was rather exciting lol. Despite the fact that I'm sort of utterly ignoring Ultron and that entire plot line here in this story (since I'd end up getting it wrong anyway and don't feel like waiting for May), I did take great inspiration from the teasers about Clint's farm, and hey, if nothing else, it's a good temporary change of scenery. And there's lots of good stuff coming up next. Like I said, some of my favorites so far :D Thank you all, as always, for reading and leaving feedback, and even if you don't, I equally thank you anyway, and I will be back again as usual next week, this time with a very non-filler chapter :D **


	19. Chapter 19

Lying on his back with his eyes clenched shut and jaw slackened as he breathed heavily through his open mouth, as if he'd just finished running a lap around Manhattan, Bucky woke up to a new day in an entirely unexpected and entirely welcomed, particularly perfect, way. As the fist he'd made in his own hair with his metal hand loosened along with every other muscle in his body, the woman responsible for his current state suddenly found her sudden burst of bravery utterly gone now that she had... done what she decided to do upon making a detour to his room a few moments earlier, but she knew there was no way he'd let her slip away and act like nothing had happened.

She didn't want to sit up from her place down near the middle of his new bed and make eye contact with him, because she was irrational and ridiculous like that, but she did it anyway because she knew she had to. When she did, she watched his eyes move from the ceiling to lock with hers before he drew a deep breath, still panting a little, licking his lips before he croaked out in a gravelly, sleep-laden voice, "You... why did you... do that?"

"I, uh... well, I... should I have... not?"

He closed his eyes and shook his head, the hand in his hair pushing it away from his face - it was long overdue for a cut, but she liked it being longer than usual and he liked that she liked it - before he answered, "No, no, but I... I just..."

They were hopeless, she decided. Sometimes these things went perfectly and he said things before, during, and/or after that made her entire body heat near the boiling point, and other times, these things still went perfectly but their mutual lack of general communication skills made her want to hide under a blanket and be embarrassed for a week. This was shaping up to be one of those times.

And thus began her mental self-ridicule.

_Ugh. Why did you have to go and try to be all seductive and spontaneous and do this to a guy with sleep issues. He's probably mad you woke him up. What if he had just fallen asleep a few hours ago or something, only to then suddenly wake up to his idiot of a girlfriend apparently mistaking him for a Popsicle -_

"Summer."

Her name on his lips and warm fingertips on top of her hand made her snap her eyes back up and refocus on the man lying in front of her. "What?"

"Stop thinking."

"I'm not."

"You are," he countered, voice still a bit sleepy. "But you shouldn't. I just... wasn't... expecting this, that's all."

"I... think that's the general idea of what I just did," she replied, hiding a small smile.

He sat up a little, his wayward hair falling back into his eyes with the motion, and he mirrored her small grin as he said, "That was... amazing."

Her eyes widened a little and her face instantly brightened. "Really?" she asked dumbly, as if his gasps and soft and not-so-soft groans hadn't already told her as much. There was also the fact that he'd been cursing - she assumed it was cursing - in another language the entire time, and by the rough and arousing way that it had sounded being growled and hissed by him, she assumed that it had been Russian. And by now, she was well aware that he really only lapsed into the other language when he was either really angry or really... what he was a few minutes ago. So really, it should have been no surprise, but, being her, it was.

He blinked a bit, shirtless and generally wrecked-looking as he looked her over with a sense of reverence in his eyes, like he was beholding something that deserved a monument built to it. "Yeah. I didn't think you'd do something like that."

Her brief smile collapsed back into a frown. "Because I'm... boring?"

His eyes widened and a twinge of horror appeared on his face. "No! No, not that. You're the... furthest thing from boring," he said, grinning a little at the end. "What I meant is, I don't always... wake up peacefully, and you know that, so I wouldn't have thought you would... take the risk."

"Oh," she sighed in relief. "Well, what happened was, I was up early and got breakfast done while David was still asleep, so I came and peeked in here to see if you were awake yet, and..."

He raised an eyebrow slightly, clearly intrigued in hearing the rest of the story. "And?"

She clamped her mouth shut and wished she hadn't said anything. "And yeah."

"Yeah?" he repeated, faint grin reappearing at the corner of his lips.

"Yup," she nodded.

"You peeked in, and... what?"

She narrowed her eyes at him a little and then moved to get off of the bed to escape, but it was no use, because his hand was wrapped around her wrist and pulling her right back down, and halfway into his lap for good measure as he grinned at her immediate groan at being thwarted.

Still burning her with his gaze, he kissed the side of her neck softly as she closed her eyes for a short second before muttering, "... I had an idea and I went with it."

"What gave it to you?" he asked, now kissing along the parts of her chest not covered by the v-neck shirt she wore.

"... I might have had it for a long time and been trying to work up the nerve to do it," she admitted, against her own will. It was no use trying to avoid it - she was a horrible liar and he'd drag it out of her anyway.

He looked up at her, one of his hands curling around her waist and pulling her a bit closer as he said with full sincerity, "God, you're perfect."

Before she could melt, he was then kissing her heatedly and in a way that let his intentions be immediately known, and she was helpless to do anything but let him have his way with her until she remembered suddenly that the food she'd made was getting cold downstairs. "But," she half-gasped, pulling away as he followed, "breakfast -"

"Didn't you just have it?" he asked in a murmur an inch from her lips. Her face instantly colored in a bright blush, and she suddenly wanted to both slap him and utterly devour him. Again. The jerk.

"... Maybe," she choked out, "but you haven't and -"

"I'm about to," he said before his arms around her shifted and she was suddenly on her back, underneath him, smiling and as red as tomato when he started kissing her again. She decided that she was quite glad she had decided to be brave when she'd glanced inside his room and found him sleeping blessedly peacefully, lying on his back with his sheets half-cast off around his waist and generally the picture of tempting half-nakedness and intriguing opportunity. She'd almost talked herself out of it twice before she'd thrown caution to the wind and crept silently inside, hoping he wouldn't wake up in a panic and mistake her for an attacker. Not that an attacker would attack in the way that she had been, but still.

He had her clothes halfway off when her eyes flew open and she gasped after breaking away from his lips, "Muffins!"

His brows furrowed and he muttered breathlessly, "What?"

"I have muffins I have to get out of the oven before they burn," she explained, hands going to his shoulders to move him off of her, but he kissed her again and resisted her efforts.

"Just leave them," he half-pleaded, making her whine a little in frustration as she pushed at him again, successfully this time.

"I can't, they've got expensive stuff in them," she said, kissing him quickly before scrambling off the bed as soon as he moved enough for her to do so. Fixing her clothes as she got to her feet, she smiled at his disgustingly attractive disheveled state and said, "I'm sorry, I totally forgot about them. But later you can, uh... finish... whatever it was you were about to do. To me."

"I think you know," he muttered, unconsciously - or maybe very consciously, she had no idea sometimes - licking his lips as his eyes roamed along her body.

"Right," she said, a little too high pitched. "So... rain check. Definitely rain check. Because... rain check."

Wincing at her repetitiveness, she then flashed him a smile and disappeared into the hallway, closing his door behind her. She lingered near the door for just a second, taking a breath and trying to calm down with an idiotic smile on her face, while Bucky sat silently on his bed, staring at the door and eventually grinning and shaking his head before flopping back down on his pillow.

And thus began another day on the farm.

* * *

Two weeks into their stay, things were sliding into a routine and starting to feel distinctly better. Summer and David's things had been sent over from the tower on their fourth day at the farm, and now that David had all of his belongings and was becoming familiar with the new place and new surroundings, he was largely back to normal - or at least, his normal. And Summer, for her part, was starting to remember why she liked not living in the city.

In the mornings, she and (usually) David strolled through Clint's chicken coops and picked up eggs that she'd either store or cook or both, and in the afternoons, they would go on walks or go down to a little creek nearby or she would find them little tasks to do with the animals. David had never been particularly fond of animals - any animals - but the more she took him around the chickens and the goats and the other various creatures Clint continued to add to his collection, the more comfortable around them he was slowly becoming. He wouldn't touch anything, but just being within six feet of an animal without freaking out was a considerable accomplishment.

Besides that, she and Clint took turns making the dinners while breakfasts generally became her domain, but the amount of people they had to feed changed daily. Natasha was staying there with Steve, technically, but she was hardly ever there, and Steve himself was gone a lot. Summer knew why, knew that they were preparing for something or a mission following the assault on the tower, and she also knew that Bucky had agreed to be a part of it. He disappeared with Steve a lot more often these days, and it wasn't uncommon for Summer, David and Clint to be the farm's only (human) occupants for large chunks of the day.

There was one day, a week and a half after they'd arrived, that Steve and Natasha were off doing God knows what all day while Clint disappeared soon after, leaving the whole place in Summer and Bucky's hands, and that had been one of her most favorite days so far, because they'd turned the living room into a dance floor and had their first real evening to themselves in longer than she cared to remember. She liked living with people, and it was a welcome change from her solitary days with David in Virginia, but having a day with just them was so refreshing that it had sparked some new thoughts in her head. Thoughts about long-term living situations and certain people that she didn't want to live away from again.

These thoughts swam in her head as she got the muffins out of the oven just before they could start to burn, along with the more scandalous thoughts that she was to blame for following her... wake-up call to Bucky. Trying to ignore the latter lest she turn into a tomato again, she again found herself wondering exactly how long she would keep living this way, with the Avengers, whether in the tower or on Clint's farm, or wherever. She couldn't keep doing this forever, and a part of her did miss having her own space and her own house that she could keep as messy or as clean as she wanted. Maybe it wouldn't be anytime particularly soon, but it was worth putting at least some thought towards what would happen when she would decide that it was time to get her own place again.

Would Bucky come with her, or would he stay with Steve and just come over? Was it assuming too much to assume that he'd want to stay with her?

But, as she removed the muffins from the pan and put them on a wire rack to cool, she found herself vividly picturing what having her own place with him would be like. David would have his own room, just like back in Virginia, and they'd have their own, and there would be no more of her slipping in and out of his room every night, almost never spending the entire night together because the constant changes meant David didn't feel secure enough to sleep through the whole night on his own very often. He would feel secure, he'd have more stability. She'd get to sleep - or not sleep - with Bucky every night, in the same room, and wake up to him every morning.

It could be wonderful. But she didn't know when it could happen or if it even would, so she shoved the thoughts away and then stepped away from the muffins, heading towards her room upstairs to get David up.

That morning, it was her, David, Bucky, and Steve who manage to eventually assemble around the breakfast table, Clint beating them all to it because the smell of the freshly baked muffins had lured him even before the men who literally ate enough at each meal for a moderately sized family. If nothing else, living with the Avengers had taken her confidence in her cooking and baking skills to ridiculous new heights.

She and David were sitting and happily eating when Bucky made his way out, his hair wet and even darker looking on his head and a black t-shirt clinging to him in ways she wouldn't complain about. He sat next to her, on the side that David wasn't occupying, and she tried to smile normally at Bucky when he did but the somehow suggestive way that he grinned slightly at her made her face burst into flame all over again.

"... Muffins," she waved at the pile of confections sitting on a plate in the middle of the table, pointedly looking away from him and hiding a smile of her own. He made a faint noise of acknowledgment and snatched one of the muffins, not taking his eyes off her as he did.

Steve watched this from across the table, as did Clint, and then they glanced at one another, seemed to silently agree that they just didn't want to know, and went back to eating.

"So," Summer cleared her throat once her ears stopped burning, "Anyone have any plans today?"

"Therapy," Clint muttered, not looking up. "And a few other things."

"Meeting Nat in a few hours," Steve said. "It's about the attack, so I was hoping you'd come with me," he added, looking at Bucky, who looked up in mild surprise as if he'd been thinking about something else entirely and was trying to figure out what Steve said.

"... Okay," Bucky agreed before pausing. "But someone should stay here with them."

"I'm fine," Summer shrugged him off. "Go have your Avenger meeting."

Bucky frowned, however, and looked down as he said, "But..."

"This place is as safe as it gets," Clint assured him. "You have no idea the lengths I've gone to keep it off the grid. Literally off the grid."

"The tower was supposed to be safe," Bucky pointed out.

"Stark's tower has a giant 'A' on it and is the place everyone knows to look for Iron Man and his buddies," Clint replied dryly. "Why do you think I didn't live there like everyone else?"

Undeterred, Bucky shook his head and said, "I just don't think she should be alone."

"_She_ is sitting right here," Summer pointed out ungracefully through a mouthful of muffin before swallowing and adding, "and I will be fine for a few hours alone. Seriously. I will."

Bucky remained unconvinced, but Steve then decided to try to steer the conversation towards more pleasant topics, as he often did. Bucky and Clint got along quite well in general, but since neither of them ever minced words, especially with the other for some reason, Steve tried to be the buffer of cheeriness when they'd start talking about attacks or HYDRA or aliens with pointy blue sticks and inexplicably English accents.

Summer, for her part, just tried to keep the food flowing and keep her opinions about Loki's insane attractiveness despite his, well, murderous rampages, to herself, at all costs. It was one thing to sound like an idiot in front of Natasha, but after she stumbled upon Clint a few days before using pictures of Loki as target practice outside, she tried to keep the awkward comments to a minimum.

Conversation remained light, forcibly, for the remainder of the meal, and Clint was the first to get up and start wandering to other tasks. In the midst of Summer having to hand-feed David to make sure he ate every bite of his food, she glanced up and saw Clint grab a pill bottle from a cabinet above his refrigerator. He then dumped two almost comically large pills into his hand, and her jaw drop as she asked, "You don't have to actually take those, do you?"

"These? No," he shook his head. "These are for one of the goats."

"Oh," she said, almost in relief. "I was gonna say, because those are the biggest pills I've ever seen. I can barely swallow a Tylenol."

"You seem pretty good at swallowing to me," Bucky said nonchalantly.

Steve choked on a sip of orange juice, Clint's mouth twitched in amusement, and Summer almost stabbed Bucky with her fork as she glared at him with wide eyes.

"What?" he asked, his face the picture of innocence. "I meant with food. And drinks."

Face on fire yet again, Summer ignored Steve's coughing following his choking as she mouthed the words "David, five years old", but Bucky continued to stare at her in blissful ignorance that she knew was patently false.

Not that David would even remotely understand what had been said, but that was beside the point. Summer eventually sighed and turned back to her food, trying very hard to maintain her somewhat angry expression despite the fact that she actually wanted to grin like a moron. More than that, she just wanted to ignore the other two men in the room, even though by now they were both quite used to how Bucky liked to brag in subtle and not-so-subtle ways. Especially Steve, who had been dealing with it for longer than any of them had and was endlessly amused that some habits simply never died, brainwashing or no.

Once the attention had shifted away from them again, Summer took the opportunity to lean over and whisper to the man sitting next to her, "I'm gonna kill you."

He didn't reply, instead merely keeping his eyes on his plate and grinning slightly. She shook her head at him, losing the will to still appear angry and smiling herself as she looked away.

She was almost done eating and very nearly thinking about other matters when an unexpected hand above her knee and lips at her ear made her nearly jump with surprise.

"I meant it, though. You're very, _very_ good at it and making sure that nothing goes to was-"

She elbowed him in the ribs as hard as she could, which wasn't all that much, but he still made an "oomph" sound as he backed away. "Shut. Up!" she whisper-shouted, face back to its default state of uncomfortably blushed, even as she continued to smile.

Despite it all, deep down, she felt a distinct sense of pride growing within herself. She had once doubted her ability to fully or even competently please this man, due to both lack of experience and lack of confidence, but with both deficits being remedied, she could finally take some pride in those annoying thoughts in the back of her head being silenced.

Now, if only she could just get the ridiculous blushing under control. And Bucky's mouth.

* * *

Under an apple tree later that day, Summer sat with a large book open in her lap and David sitting in front of her, watching as she made various gestures with her hands and explained them with her words. She'd made a daily routine out of this following David's astounding communication with the deaf girl in his daycare room, but so far, he'd chosen to remain silent in every sense of the word with her.

She pointed to herself and said, "I..." Then she made two small fists with her hands and crossed her arms over her chest and said, "Love..." And finally, she pointed to him and smiled, "You."

He smiled back, but he kept playing with a couple of sticks he was holding rather than answer back. She understood his hesitation, despite how frustrating it was, but she now had more confidence than ever that he'd eventually make great progress in his communication. She just had to be patient and keep working with him.

"All right, next is... apple," she said, flipping through the pages and settling on one. She pointed up at the tree giving them shade and then followed the directions in the book, making the sign for apple by placing her fist to her cheek and pressing her index knuckle to it, then twisting it back and forth. "Apple."

He watched her closely, and one of his hands started to form into a fist for a minute, but it never left his lap and he loosened his hand a moment later. She sighed lightly and gave him a smile, taking that one little gesture as another sign of progress. "All right. How about we take a break and play hide and seek now?"

Smiling and jumping up at that, David brushed off his jeans and kept his sticks firmly in his grasp as Summer closed the book and set it aside, looking out over the small hill that they were sitting on and deciding to get closer to the house to play the game. The farm was divided between the animals and the growing food, and they were currently in the part of it that contained things like apple trees and rather impressive tomato plants, and an herb garden that made her nearly salivate just to look at it. The animals were closer to the house, the goats in their pin and a horse or two in some hand-built stables, and some smaller creatures in the still-adorable red barn that they were now walking towards. It was all very impressive for being maintained by one man who didn't look like the sort to have had much experience in this beforehand.

"Let's start at the barn, kiddo," she said, and David happily dashed off in front of her, all energy and smiles today, and she smiled to herself as well as she followed him. The fresh air really seemed to be doing wonders for him, and she only hoped that he wouldn't be too sad to leave once the tower was ready to be moved back into.

After a good fifteen minutes or so of hardcore hide and seek - David was a master of bending himself in odd ways underneath things and giving her a heart attack that she actually wouldn't be able to find him - it was his turn to count and hers to hide when she went behind the barn, ignoring the somewhat grating sounds of the nearby goats as she ducked behind a small pile of hay that was sitting outside. Then, as she was waiting for him to find her, she heard a sudden and unexpected noise that was not an animal or her son's feet padding through the grass. It sounded sharper, like something getting chopped, so she jumped to her feet, forgetting the game and dashing around the corner to grab David's arm and start looking around for the source of the noise. Then she heard it again, realized it was coming from near the house, and she tried very hard to not let her sudden spark of fear get the best of her.

Everyone had left, so she couldn't blame it on Clint or someone else. Hoping it was just an animal loose and not someone there to randomly kill her, she clenched her jaw and motioned to David for him to walk behind her as they crept closer to the house, behind the cover of some convenient trees.

Her knee-jerk fear, however, ended up being rather short-lived, because as soon as the house was within her sight once more, she identified the culprit as none other than Bucky, who had apparently not left with Steve as he was supposed to. Instead, he was dressed in clothes that looked very appropriate to the setting, which were also clothes that she herself had bought for him back when he was a terrifying, half-insane and mostly vacant ex-assassin sleeping under her roof in Virginia. Now, suddenly, seeing him in jeans and a flannel shirt of various shades of blue with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows as he attacked an innocent log on a stump with an ax, she was glad she'd bought it for him. She was not, however, glad that he had nearly given her a heart attack.

Now that the suspicion of danger had passed, she led David out from behind the trees and called out, "Seriously? You scared me to death! I thought you left with Steve!"

Pausing just before he could split another log, he glanced her way and then used his flesh hand to push his hair out of his eyes before he replied, "The meeting wasn't that important."

Giving him a knowing look as she approached him, she said, "You just didn't want to leave us here alone. You wouldn't have stayed behind just to... stock up on... firewood."

He glanced at the wood that he was demolishing, then shrugged and said, "Therapy."

"Wood chopping and dancing," she smiled. "Interesting therapeutic combo." He returned her smile slightly, then pushed aside his hair again, and she said, "I can still cut that for you if you want. It's growing ridiculously fast."

"But you don't want to," he pointed out, as David grew weary of both of them and found a much bigger stick nearby that he could play with.

She shrugged a little and smiled. "I mean... I don't want you to go full on caveman again but... it's nice having a little more to..."

"Hold on to?" he guessed, and she glared at him due to the company they had, but he just grinned and then turned back to his task of making more, potentially highly unnecessary, firewood.

"Anyway," she cleared her throat, "On a more serious note, I don't want you to feel like you need to always have someone near me to watch or protect me. Especially here. I don't want to be the thing holding you back from what you want to do. Or need to do."

He paused as he raised the ax again, letting it fall a bit as he looked at her and said quietly, "It's just... this soon after the attack, I didn't want to... I couldn't," he shook his head, looking away as he trailed off.

Understanding, and grateful that he placed such a high emphasis on her safety and wellbeing, she replied, "I understand, but... I hope you don't see me as someone who needs constant protection or a... damsel in distress or..."

Bucky laughed at that, a real laugh, and said, "That's the last thing I see you as. Especially after Steve told me how you ran down the tower in those heels with two kids thrown over your shoulders."

She grinned a little and said, "Well... yeah. So... just keep that in mind next time, okay? I don't want to be the thing sidelining you."

"You're not," he said quietly, and by his tone and the look in his eye, she believed him.

"Okay." She took a breath, then added, "Now carry on."

He looked at her a bit curiously as she smiled brightly and then took a seat on the grass, underneath another tree, a few feet away from David. When he hesitated, she waved her hand towards the logs and said, "Seriously. I could watch you do this all day. Extra points if you have to work up a sweat and take the shirt off."

That earned her another grin, and she spent the rest of the hour mock-battling David with the sticks that he brought to her, and watching Bucky look rather good adapting to his farm environment and giving her a good show to boot. She suddenly hoped that one of the chicken coops would fall apart so she could watch him fix it, or Clint decide that a tree had to go so she could watch Bucky chop it down. She never would have expected to find such thoughts so intriguing, but then again, she wasn't exactly dealing with the average guy off the street.

And he even eventually took his shirt off for those "extra points" he'd mentioned, and as she watched and giggled with a silly grin on her face, she decided that she might end up missing the farm even more than David when they had to eventually leave.

* * *

Just before sundown, Bucky was finished with his wooden demolition and was sliding his shirt back on over his arms when he glanced at Summer and found her looking at her phone and frowning as she read something. He wasted no time in asking, "What's wrong?"

She looked up at him and smiled a little nervously. "It's Clint. He wants me to feed the animals while he's gone." Bucky was confused for a moment, not seeing the problem there, but Summer quickly clarified, "That means I have to face Matt Damon."

His confusion then shifted into a grin. "Matt Damon" was her pet name for the evil, woman-hating rooster that Clint owned, and it had tried to murder Summer more than once during their stay so far. She'd given it the name of an actor he'd never heard of because apparently she despised the actor for no reason, other than his general existence, so she had bestowed the name upon the rooster. She also said that the rooster even resembled the man somehow. Bucky took her word for it.

"Need backup?" Bucky offered, buttoning up his shirt.

"Definitely. Nothing short of the Winter Soldier is sufficient for this mission," she replied, making him grin again. "But seriously. Keep that douche away from me."

"Yes ma'am," he nodded, giving an imaginary tip of a hat, and it didn't dawn on him until she looked at him a little curiously that that particular gesture had not come from this particular century of his life. But it had felt natural, like any other teasing thing he ever did with her.

At the sudden, very slight uncertainty in his eyes, Summer smiled reassuringly and tilted her head a bit as she said, "Sergeant."

His expression eased some, especially with the slightly teasing tone to her voice, and he watched her with amusement as she glanced over to David first before coming closer, reaching out to him and smoothing down his shirt over his shoulders before saying wistfully, "You know, I really wish I could have seen you back then. In your uniform and everything. Because I've seen the pictures and those videos but I doubt they really did you justice."

"Couldn't really say," he shrugged, glancing down as her fingers fiddled absently with his buttons.

"Not I have any complaints now, as you know," she grinned, watching her fingers as well, "but something about a guy in uniform, I guess. And the title. I wonder if girls called you Sergeant in bed. I could try it out," she looked up, clearly teasing. "Sergeant Barnes."

He tried to hide the instant wince that shot across his face, he truly did, but there was no stopping it, and he could not help it. Summer immediately paled, recognizing the sudden pain in his eyes as her whole face fell, and he wished that the first thing he'd seen and heard in his head when she'd said those last words was not the despicable face of Zola, but it was, and he couldn't change it. Those two words, said together, were an instant trigger of his fuzzy but intact memory of the man telling him his new purpose in life as the "fist of HYDRA", and of course, Summer had no way of knowing that.

"What? What did I say? What did I do?" she asked almost frantically, but he tried to shove the thoughts away and reached his hands to her shoulders in a calming gesture.

"Nothing, nothing. It's just those words," he explained, brows furrowed and eyes still more pained than he'd like to admit. "I don't like being called that."

"Okay," she nodded quickly. "I won't call you that again. I'm sorry. I was just trying to be... I don't know..."

"I know, and it's fine," he assured her. "Not the first time one of us has done something like that without knowing."

She nodded, understanding what he was referring to. A few weeks prior, when they were still in the tower, they had been deep in the midst of a stolen, mid-day, very quick romp in his room, while her son was out in the living room with the others, and when he noticed how incredibly hard she was trying to stay quiet, he'd made the mistake of gently putting his hand over her mouth right at the end to help her. All it had accomplished was her suddenly gasping as if he'd been choking her as she scrambled away from him as fast as she possibly could, even stumbling to the floor in her haste, and he realized all too late the idiocy of what he'd done. He spent almost an entire half an hour relentlessly apologizing for the painful memories he'd triggered, even though once she'd pulled herself together, she had assured him that he was fine and that it wasn't really his fault. It was just... what it was.

"I'm sorry," she said again, shaking her head, and he reached out to touch her face gently before he answered.

"I know. But you didn't know. And I'm fine," he nodded to her before kissing her forehead, wanting only to put an end to this moment and move on. She had no reason to be so sorry. When he drew back, he forced his expression into something lighter and said, "Let's go take care of that... chicken."

She looked at him for a moment before her lips briefly quivered and then burst into a wide smile as she laughed. "That is hands down the weirdest thing you've ever said. And I love it."

Her smile was the most contagious thing in the world to him, and he smiled back as her hand entwined with his. "Good."

Then, briefly dark moment successfully over, she began leading him towards the barn after she took David's hand in her other, free one. She wasn't watching when his face fell for a moment back into its frown from a moment before, truly despising how a memory or flashback could still wield far too much power and threaten to derail his entire day. This time hadn't been so bad, but it didn't mean others weren't, and as sick as he was of it, he knew that he could realistically expect this to continue happening for the rest of his life.

The trick was to deal with it and move on, and not give the moment so much power. So, that was exactly what he tried to do, focusing wholly on the task at hand: guarding his girlfriend from a rather nasty and temperamental rooster.

He followed her around the property as she fed all of the other animals first, making him carry the "heavy stuff" that wasn't really heavy at all, like the hay she gave to the goats and horses, and the water containers that went in with them. She saved the dreaded chicken coops for last, and when they got there, she clutched a small container of chicken feed as she eyed the rooster in question from her safe place outside of the coop.

While all the other chickens were oblivious, sure enough, "Matt Damon" - or whatever - came pecking to the forefront and cocked it's rather ugly head as it appraised her. He glanced at Summer as she took a deep breath, noticed David hiding behind her legs, and then said, "Should I just... do it for you?"

She shook her head. "I can do this. It's just a stupid chicken. It's Matt Damon. I can handle Matt Damon."

"I still don't understand the name," Bucky muttered.

"It seriously looks like him! It's weird!" she exclaimed. "And all of Matt Damon's movies are crap!" Then she shook her head and refocused herself. "Okay. I'm going in. Kick him if he tries to attack me. I should not have worn sandals."

Squaring her shoulders, she stepped forward and opened the door to the chicken coop, slamming it a few times to try to get the rooster to back up, but the creature wouldn't budge and merely continued to glower at her. She frowned and then opened the door again, muttering, "Fine, then I'm just dumping this food right on the floor and you guys can just deal with it..."

She did so, and the rooster glanced at the food briefly, so she quickly grabbed for the nearly-empty water container and tried to make a mad dash away. But, the evil fowl was too quick, and flew right at her, going right for her vulnerable feet and pecking the crap out of them while she squealed and cursed Matt Damon's names to the heavens.

Taking his role as backup quite seriously, Bucky quickly sprang into action, but he was afraid that he'd kill the chicken and scar David for life if he kicked at it. So instead, his left arm shot out and grabbed Summer by her middle, then pulled her swiftly back to safety while his other arm slammed the door of the coop shut. Unfortunately, the door sort of fell apart upon impact, at least towards the very stop of the wiring, so Clint would likely be forcing Bucky to fix it the next day. But he wasn't worried about that now.

"Ugh! Demon chicken!" Summer screeched at the rooster as Bucky set her down and looked down at her feet to see them actually mildly bloody from the rooster's attacks. "Fricking ouch, man..."

He knelt down and examined both of her feet quickly, sighing as he stood back up and said, "I'll clean you up inside. No more feeding chickens for you."

She looked to be about to protest, but David staring wide-eyed at her feet caught her attention, and she muttered, "Crap. He hates blood. Why did I have to wear sandals?"

Bucky looked at David, then back at her, and then quickly made the decision to scoop her up in his arms and carry her back to the house. David couldn't get queasy from the blood if he couldn't see it.

"What - hey - you don't have to carry me, it's just some pecks -"

He silenced her with a single shake of his head as he began walking them towards the house. "I'm not just backup. I'm extraction, too." Then he gave her a slightly crooked grin, and she laughed, giving in and letting him carry her the rest of the way without incident.

Once inside, he sat her down at the kitchen table and then left to go rummage in one of the bathrooms for some first aid supplies, unwilling to take chances with an open wound on two feet that had been walking amid animal waste and other generally unpleasant debris. When he came back out, David was sitting in the chair next to Summer, staring again at her feet in deep concern. Bucky dumped his small armful of stuff on to table, then grabbed what he needed first and knelt down before her again.

"I can do this myself, you know," she chided him with a small grin when he glanced up at her before he began.

"But like I always say, you don't have to," he retorted, and her smile grew warmer as she then opted to remain silent. He then looked at David once more, before opening an alcohol swab and getting the painful part over with first.

The marks on her feet weren't too bad, and they'd all already stopped bleeding, but he still cleaned each one carefully and made sure they were each covered. David watched intently the whole time, and by the time Bucky had gotten to the last one, he looked at the child and then handed him the last bandaid. David looked up, his bright brown eyes confused for a moment before he looked down at the offered bandaid and took it.

"Peel off the two white pieces and then put it here," Bucky explained, showing David where to put it. As the boy began peeling off the pieces, Bucky briefly met Summer's eyes to find her watching them a little curiously, but even more warmly than before. Then he looked back to David, who hopped off of his chair to stand next to Bucky and carefully, meticulously even, place the little bandage on his mother's last boo-boo. Afterwards, he looked up at Summer and beamed, and she smiled back just as brightly.

"Are you trying to help take care of me?" she asked lightly, and David nodded enthusiastically. Even Bucky had to smile at the kid's cuteness. Summer then leaned forward and hugged her son, adding, "Well, I'm one lucky girl to have such a sweet little boy."

She kissed his forehead, and he smiled at her one more time before glancing at Bucky and suddenly growing shy out of nowhere, then racing off and out of the room. She chuckled at his sudden but not uncommon flightiness, then turned back to Bucky at his still-kneeling position. "That was sweet."

Bucky shrugged. "He seemed pretty interested in making sure your feet weren't gonna fall off."

She smiled and said, "You're really good with him, you know. He likes you so much. I know it's not always easy to tell because he doesn't talk, but he misses you when you're not around."

Bucky looked down for a moment, temporarily unsure what to say back before he settled on, "You've done an amazing job with him."

She wrinkled her nose and said, "Not really. You weren't there during the bad years. Trust me. I had no clue what I was doing for a long time."

But that was just it, he thought. She was alone and without help and she still managed to figure out how to raise a kid like David and keep him reasonably happy. It was almost beyond his comprehension, especially since it was so far beyond what he knew himself.

"But thank you for saying so," she added, reaching out and brushing back some of his hair from around his eyes. She might have kept offering to cut it, but he was well aware of how she looked at it and clawed at it, and he could let it grow a bit longer still.

He replied by rising some from the floor, just enough to reach her lips for a short, sweet kiss that left her smiling even more than she had been before.

"Wanna help me start dinner?" she asked while he looked from her lips to her eyes at the question.

"I still owe you a different kind of favor," he reminded her, saying the words quietly and with a slight curve to his lips.

"Yes," she grinned, fighting an instant blush, "but we're alone and my kid is awake. So peel potatoes now. Save the fun stuff for later."

He groaned almost too faintly to hear as he kissed her one last time, just as softly as before. "As soon as he's asleep."

She nodded, unable to fight the blush any longer, to his satisfaction. "The very minute."

* * *

By the time Summer was sitting next to David in the bed she shared with him, him curled to her side while she read him one of his favorite books, she was almost nodding off herself. But, every time she started to consider crawling under the covers and passing out, she'd remember that she had a "date" in Bucky's room, and she'd be doing neither her nor Bucky any favors by missing it.

At the end of the book, David gave up his own struggle to stay awake, leaving her side by a few inches to flop down on his pillow and pull the covers to his chin. She closed the book and set it aside, turning towards him and brushing his hair aside before leaning down and pressing a kiss to his forehead. "I love you, kiddo. Sweet dreams."

He gave her a sleepy smile of his own, and just as she was about to turn away and let him sleep, he pointed to himself. She did a quick double take, then felt her heart skip inside when he crossed his arms over his chest, over the covers. Realizing what he was doing, she felt her eyes instantly fill to the brim with tears that were of the furthest thing from sadness, and as he pointed at her, finishing his expression of "I love you", she smiled one of the happiest smiles of her life and laughed.

"I love you too! I love you so much," she gushed, kissing his forehead and then hugging him tightly. "Thank you for telling me! I've been waiting so long to hear that."

The smile that he gave her in return almost melted her all over again, and as she wiped at her eyes, he settled back into the bed and closed his eyes. She brushed his short hair back again and took a deep, still shaky breath, utterly overcome and completely undone by her son's first-ever "I love you".

Once she was sure that he was asleep, she stood up from the bed and found that she couldn't get the smile off of her face. David was turning six soon, and though his actions always told her that he loved her, his unexpected expression of it had filled a void that she hadn't really known was there. She'd accepted his silence for so long that it simply wasn't something that she let herself think about or desire, but now that it had happened, she realized she had been waiting a very long time for this night to come.

Still shedding a tear or two, she flipped off the overhead light and then quietly left the room, almost floating down the hallway on her high as she got to Bucky's door. Once there, she knocked softly on the door twice, and he answered so quickly it almost made her giggle.

As soon as he did, his eyes widened in concern and he blurted, "Why are you crying? What happened?"

"Nothing," she shook her head, walking inside the "office" room when he stepped aside, still looking confused. She smiled up at him after he closed the door and explained, "He said he loved me. David did. After all this time he finally said 'I love you'."

"He spoke?"

"No, he signed it," she replied. "Remember how I told you the little girl in the daycare was teaching him sign language and I didn't even know? I've been trying to teach him more but I didn't really know if he was getting it, but I guess he was." Then she smiled even wider, her eyes trying to water even more as she added, "I just... I'm so hard on myself and I'm always so paranoid that I'm not doing the right things for him, and it's hard to know sometimes because he doesn't talk, but this... this just... I feel really good right now."

She watched him smile in response to that, then say softly, "You should. You always should."

She smiled back, and while her emotions were on overload, she let them keep spilling through her words and said, "You really have no idea how happy I am that I have someone to... talk to and share these things with now. I mean, I always had my brother, but he lived on the other side of the country and it's just... not the same, you know. I was alone for so long and now I'm not and... I'm rambling, I'm sorry."

He shook his head, coming closer as he said, "Don't be. I understand what you're saying." His right hand gently rose to brush away an errant happy tear from her cheek, and a few seconds passed before he said quietly, "I like it when you're happy like this."

Her smile grew again. "I've been pretty happy lately. Even with all the... blowing up of stuff that seems to follow me everywhere now. This really is the happiest I've ever been. At least since I've been grown up."

He smiled at those words, but a little weakly, and she knew that it was likely because happiness wasn't such a simple matter for him. But it wasn't for her either, because as normal as he must have thought she was compared to himself, she had spent the last seven years feeling very abnormal and, on bad days, simply _less_ than everyone else.

"I can remember being happy," he said quietly, eyes cast downwards as his brows drew slightly together. "I still can't remember my family much but I remember feeling... lighter. Everything being easier and... simpler. More what it felt like than what it was."

She nodded, then said quietly, "I won't tell you that you'll feel that way again because I know you won't. I won't either," she shook her head. "And that's okay. We can still be happy. You can still be happy." When he frowned a little, almost as a reflex to such words, she added, "And you deserve to be."

"Not really," he said quietly. "But I can almost believe it when you say it."

"Then I'm gonna keep saying it until you do," she grinned. "And you know how I can talk."

He chuckled, his hand again going to her cheek before brushing her hair behind her ear. "Even when I'm not really listening."

She narrowed her eyes. "Hey -"

A flash of a grin was his only warning before he leaned in and kissed her, softly and sweetly, and her brief outrage faded quickly. She was still on emotional overload, thankfully the good kind, and it was a freeing thing to just stop talking and _feel_. And if there was something that Bucky was good at, besides the obvious Winter Soldier skills and equally obvious _other_ things, it was making her feel so much at once that it was almost like a pleasant form of drowning. Coming up for air was overrated.

He paused first after a handful of kisses, leaning his forehead against hers before drawing away slightly and saying, "I don't think I say it enough."

"Say what?" she asked, genuinely too dazed to follow.

"That I love you," he replied. "I should tell you more."

She smiled a little and then shook her head. "Don't say it just to say it. Say it when you really feel it and really mean it. When people say it every time they hang up the phone or leave the room... I just think it loses what makes it special."

"But I always mean it."

She smiled, thinking her face would start hurting soon from all of these smiles. "I know. So do I."

"I love you," he murmured, looking down at her lips and then her eyes as he then backed her up against the wall.

She let out a small squeak when her back hit the wall, and she grinned as she replied a little breathlessly, "I love you too. And I love it when you do that."

He grinned back, then leaned in close and let his lips graze the side of her neck, the faint stubble on his jaw making her shiver pleasantly as he asked, "What else?"

She bit her lip, one hand in his hair and the other on his shoulder as she tried to think of ways of avoiding the question. "Everything else."

He kissed her neck gently then, almost too gently, and muttered, "Be more specific."

Stifling a groan, she said, "You can make me blush like an idiot just by looking at me. You don't need to try to make me say... things."

"But I know you can," he said, raising his head to give her a slightly mischievous look. "You can write them, so you can say them."

She shook her head. "Writing and speaking are way different. And nobody was ever supposed to read _that_."

He didn't refute that, instead growing curious as he said, "I wonder what you'd write now, now that we... aren't waiting anymore."

She laughed, a little too sharply. "Too filthy for even your eyes."

"Impossible," he murmured before kissing her again, harder this time. His arms were firm around her and his chest pressed her fully to the wall, and she kissed him back until she was nearly dizzy, quickly back to where she had been earlier that day, before muffins of all things had interrupted his efforts to repay her wake up call.

When his lips drifted back to her neck, she drew in a breath so shaky her whole body trembled, and she asked quietly, "Still wanna try tying me to the bed in nothing but the heels you like so much?"

She could have sworn she felt every inch of him twitch against her, but after a second or two he looked up at her and shook his head. "Not tonight."

"What's tonight?" she asked innocently, and he responded by dropping his eyes to her chest and then quickly ridding her of her shirt, tossing it to the floor before focusing all of his efforts on kissing every inch of her that his mouth could reach.

He started at the base of her neck, then drifted down, moving further down with each press of his lips and swipe or flick of his tongue, and just the attention on her breasts alone made her knees weaken underneath her. She clutched at his hair, his shoulder, whatever she could reach, but what she could reach kept diminishing, until his mouth was below her navel and breathing hotly in between kisses. It was then that she opened her eyes, looked down, and almost choked when she realized he was down on both of his knees before her.

"I - ah - Bucky," she managed to breath out, one hand going blindly to the wall behind her while the other stayed in his hair, on top of his head. He glanced up at her, his lips still grazing her skin and making it nearly catch flame, and her mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. He grinned at her speechlessness, then closed his eyes and resumed his maddening kisses, his hands working to take off the rest of her clothes as she tried to just breathe and wonder if he really expected her to stand through what he clearly intended to do.

She got her answer once he got everything off, then looked up at her one more time before taking her hands in his, then placing them in his hair and saying lowly, "Hold on."

She gulped and nearly choked on the air rushing out of her lungs. She did as he instructed, holding on for dear life and wondering how she would ever survive this man.

* * *

He ended the day much as he had began it, lying limp and sated in his bed, but this time with Summer next to him and equally dazed. He was lying on his front, metal arm dangling off the side of the bed and his other draped across her middle as she laid next to him on her back. She was panting, too deep into the exhausting aftermath to even grab the sheets to cover herself like she normally would, which was quite rare. He supposed that he had outdone himself tonight.

Blinking suddenly sleepy eyes, he kissed the part of her that was closest to his lips, her shoulder, then grinned softly at her when she opened her own eyes and turned her head to look at him. Her hair was a mess, her entire face flushed and lips a little swollen from his constant assaults on them, but her eyes were the best part to him. They were a little heavy with sleep, like his, but it was in these moments after that they held an intriguing mixture of innocence and of the utter opposite. He never let himself forget that he was her first, her true first, and that all of this was still very new to her. It was still new to him as well, despite his previous life, but he was reasonably confident that he was doing well in this particular... area. Maybe a little more than just reasonably.

She turned slowly on her side, drawing up the sheet over herself when she did - he wished she wouldn't, but he'd never say a word if it made her more comfortable - and as she faced him more fully, she raised a hand to his sweat-soaked hair and brushed it away from his forehead, where some of it had been stuck. "I don't want to get up. I don't think I _can_ get up."

He chuckled quietly, shifting himself to lay on his side as well, his arm tightening along her middle and pulling her closer to himself. "Then don't."

"I have to," she sighed, her eyes closing. "Seriously though. I'm not sure if I can feel my legs."

Giving her a look when she opened her eyes after saying that, he subtly let the hand currently sitting on her hip slide down lower, over her outer thigh and then suddenly between her legs, moving swiftly enough to make her jump a little and let out a squeak at the unexpected touch. He grinned and said, "I think you can still feel your legs after all."

She groaned a little, smiling still as he moved his hand back to the safer place of her hip. He kissed her softly, not willing to let her go just yet, on the cusp of asking her to stay until he fell asleep as his hand gripped her hip just enough to pull her a little closer. But before he could say anything, she flinched a little and broke the kiss. "Ow..."

He opened his eyes, looking at her in confusion only to be met with similar confusion in her own eyes. "What?"

"I don't know," she said honestly.

"What hurts?" he pressed, a thousand thoughts suddenly racing through his head, each as irrational as the next.

"My hip, where you just grabbed me," she said, and he had the sheet off of her and down to her knees before she could so much as blink. The light in his room was still on, though it wasn't the brightest, but his perfect vision had no issues immediately discovering the problem. His expression darkened instantly, and Summer looked at him, then at her hip, then back to him before she said, "What? What are you looking at? I don't see anything."

"It's bruises," he muttered, not meeting her eyes. "I can see them, barely. They're still forming."

"Oh," she said quietly. "I mean, it doesn't hurt that bad, I just wasn't expecting..."

She trailed off as he placed his right, flesh hand over her hip, then glowered even more as he lined up the bruising with his hand and fingertips. All this time he had been paranoid and beyond cautious to keep his metal arm under control around her, thinking that any unintentional injuries would be due to that limb, but maybe he had forgotten to pay equal attention to the other one, which was just as unnaturally enhanced as the rest of him and just as capable of inflicting accidental damage.

"It's okay," he heard her say as she sat up, placing her hand over his as he continued to glare at it. "Really. It's just some bruises. You probably did it when you were holding me up and doing that angling thing where you kinda twist me and... anyway. It was worth it."

He raised his eyes to hers, finding her smiling in her attempt to ease his mind, but he was already beyond the point of that. When he looked down again to continue his staring, she reached out and pulled his face back up, and said, "I'm serious. I know what that look on your face means. Don't overthink this. It's not a big deal. I'm fine."

He stared at her for a minute, briefly debating whether to tell her all the reasons why it _was_ a big deal and why she was _not_ fine, but he knew he wouldn't convince her and she would continue to tell him that it was just a tiny blip on the radar, barely even that, and to just let it go. So, he decided against being honest, instead forcing his expression into something a little less dark as he nodded. "Okay."

She searched his eyes, and he suspected that she was surprised by how quickly he'd given in. "Okay. And I mean it. Don't even think about it. I know you probably will anyway, but -"

"No, you're right," he said in a tone that he hoped was convincing. "You're right."

She nodded, still looking at him quite closely, and he had no doubt that she didn't believe him. Nonetheless, she let it go at that point, kissing him as his mind raced.

This time, it was a little bruising, nothing major, little more than a stubbed toe or skinned knee by comparison. But, now that there had been a first time, there would certainly be a second, and maybe it wouldn't be so small and insignificant. Maybe he'd push her against a wall too hard and fracture her rib, or give her a slight concussion. Maybe he'd forget himself in the middle of the act, push too hard or too fast or both, and he wasn't even sure what exact kind of injury that would produce, and he didn't want to ever know.

The rest of the night passed in a blur, as did Summer's reluctant departure. She wasn't stupid and she knew what he was doing, what he was thinking and feeling, but she also knew that she could do very little, if anything, to stop him, so after he had gently urged her to go get the sleep she needed, she had left him alone with his thoughts. He didn't sleep much that night, staring at the ceiling for most of it, terrifying himself with one imagined scenario after another, each one worse and more gruesome than the last. It was not the first time he had done this, but it was the first time in a long time, and the first since they had taken the plunge and started sleeping together. Now he felt like a fool, having spent all of this time so physically intimate and open with her, just ignoring the dangers or maybe pretending, subconsciously, that he was better enough now that the dangers didn't exist anymore.

But he knew better now. He didn't know what that meant for the future, or what exactly he would do now about it, but he knew that above all else, he feared two things the most: first, forgetting everything all over again, and losing his new life and new memories the same way he'd lost his first ones, and second, hurting someone that he loved.

He fell asleep some time in the very early morning hours, and his dreams offered him no rest and no peace. Summer slept uneasily as well, hoping that a handful of bruises that she couldn't even see yet wouldn't become the new monster in Bucky's head.

**A/N: Super duper quick update today because I'm in the middle of moving and almost forgot to update at all. I wish I had more time to ramble because this chapter is one of my favorites, it was so much fun to write, and I very much looking forward to your guys' feedback, like so much :D I'm behind on my PMs on here, and school, and life in general, but I'm happy to say that at the age of 25, I am FINALLY a licensed driver, so I've had a busy but awesome week :D Thank you guys for reading and for being awesome! I'll see you all next week for more life on the farm :D**


	20. Chapter 20

Despite her best hopes, Summer quickly learned that what she was referring to in her head as the "stupid bruise incident" was, indeed, not going away any time soon, and it was also having a direct and unpleasant effect on Bucky and her's day to day life.

It had been a week, and the bruises were nearly gone, but as Bucky had predicted, they had bloomed an ugly-looking purple the morning after he accidentally gave them to her. She had cringed when she looked at them in the mirror, not because they really bothered her, but because of how she knew Bucky would react when he inevitably asked to check on them. And he did, as soon as he had seen her that morning, and when she showed him, he said nothing and spent breakfast physically next to her but mentally million miles away.

She then began to hope that it was just a passing phase and that he'd get over it, as she already had, and that things would go back to normal. She also hoped that the little things she had begun to notice were figments of her imagination, things like his kisses not lasting as long, his embraces almost nonexistent, and his sudden tendency to fall asleep early. These things didn't happen every day, but when they didn't, she still found things to worry over, like the two times she did manage to end the night in his bed since the "incident". He had always been cautious to the point of her being able to notice, but now, he'd taken to acting like she was made of the world's thinnest glass and would shatter if he merely breathed the wrong way.

She still walked away those nights with no complaints, but she had to wonder how he could enjoy himself at all when he spent the whole time thinking so hard that she could _feel_ it. He was also noticeably less flirtatious by day, and that might have been the single most jarring change of all.

Seven days of this had led Summer from being initially nervous to fearful, then to slightly irritated, and now she might have been a little bit angry. If the mildly harsh way that she was flipping pancakes in Clint's kitchen was any indication, she was definitely getting mad now.

She was cooking six at once on a giant griddle, leaning on the counter and glaring out the little window above the sink next to the stove between flipping. Outside, Bucky was helping Clint build a new pin for his animals, and she didn't want to watch, because he was doing this in the sun and a stupid white tank top, and he was going to come back inside all sweaty and flushed and, if the last week was any indication, she was going to have better luck turning her pancake into a Krabby Patty than of getting anywhere with him.

She flipped the pancakes again, more angrily this time. Sure, she could point out that David was still soundly asleep upstairs and that she'd made enough pancakes by now to take a break and go take a "quick" shower with him, but he'd still figure out a way to say no and she'd still end up standing here, her only company a spatula and a bottle of cooking spray. All because of a few unintentional bruises that didn't even hurt anymore.

As she ungently flung the pancakes on top of the others, on a huge plate, a familiar feminine rasp from behind her said, "What did those pancakes ever do to you?"

She looked behind her to find Natasha looking amused as she grabbed a glass out of the cabinet, and Summer faintly smiled back and shook her head. "Probably make me gain five pounds, since I make everything as high-calorie as possible for the supermen."

"I've noticed," Natasha said over her shoulder, opening the refrigerator behind Summer. "I blame you for Steve's energy. It's been even higher than usual and it's getting kind of ridiculous."

"That must be nice," Summer muttered, more bitterly than she intended.

"Really?" Natasha asked, glass of orange juice in hand as she came up to lean against the counter in sudden interest. "Trouble in paradise?"

Rather than try to refute her words, Summer simply shook her head again and said, "It's... not trouble, exactly, but..." She then looked up at Natasha and asked almost a little desperately, "Can I talk to you about it? Not now, but later? Because if I don't talk to someone about it I'm gonna end up flinging this spatula through the window."

"Sure," Nat replied, still amused. "And I'm not surprised. The two of you are usually almost sickening together, but every time I've seen you together in the last week, he acts like you've got cooties."

"More like he has cooties and he's gonna give me a fatal case of them any minute," Summer said, tone back to a mutter.

Natasha didn't ask for elaboration, but instead said, "All right, well... after breakfast we can take a walk and you can tell me about the cootie problem."

"Thank you," Summer said sincerely, and Natasha shrugged in response. But who else could she talk to about something like this? Paul would just cringe and demand over the phone that she wear a full body suit made entirely out of bubble wrap if she insisted on continuing to date Bucky, and she didn't want to lay her issues on anyone else. She was grateful to have Natasha around - it had been a long time since she'd had a good female friend, and she never would have thought in a million years that she'd be able to call this particular woman such a thing, but here she was.

A little bit later, as she predicted, Bucky walked back into the house looking exactly as she had expected him to, and she smiled forcibly brightly when his eyes met hers as he closed the front door behind him. "Morning!"

"Morning," he said back, glancing at the giant griddle she was still working on. "I thought you were still asleep."

"Nope. Got up a little early, actually, to look for you, but you were busy with Clint, I guess," she said, waving the spatula to the window for emphasis.

"Oh... yeah," he muttered quietly. "I was up and he said he could use the help, so..."

"Mmhmm," Summer hummed, refocusing on the pancakes in front of her.

Bucky then glanced at Natasha, who was quietly sipping her juice and observing the whole exchange. He glared at her softly and then glanced at Summer one more time before silently heading off, Summer assumed, towards the upstairs bathroom.

Once he was gone, she set down the spatula and let out a frustrated sigh. "Actually, screw this."

She then turned off the stovetop and turned around, glancing at Natasha before taking a breath and marching after him. She wanted a freaking shower. He couldn't actually turn down a shower with his girlfriend, could he? Who would do that?

She caught up to him right as he was closing the bathroom door, and she quickly reached out and pushed it open. She flashed him a smile, amused by the surprised look on his face and how he actually backed up a step after the unexpected intrusion. "Hi again."

"... Hi," he said a little dumbly as she walked inside and shut the door behind her.

"You usually, you know, invite me," she said, trying not to be too affected by the sight before her. The longer but not too-long hair really completed his farm look, she thought, and yet she hadn't been able to properly enjoy any of it, at least not for the last week, which felt like an eternity.

"You seemed busy," he shrugged.

"Since when has that ever stopped you?" she asked with a smile. He smiled back a little weakly, and she stifled a sigh, deciding to switch tactics. Rather than taking off her own clothes, which he usually did for her and she kind of hoped he'd still do now, she stepped closer to him and reached for the bottom of his shirt. He stayed silent and let her peel it up and off of him, and he continued to not move or speak when she tossed it to the floor and then leaned up to kiss him.

He stayed still but he kissed her back as her hands went to his damp hair, placing the front pieces behind his ear, though they weren't quite long enough to stay there, and she hoped that she was doing this well enough. She'd never had to coax him into anything, so this was new and not entirely pleasant territory. But he responded as she had hoped he would, deepening the kisses and bringing his hands to her waist and then her back, and she could feel her hopes rising as he began to act like his normal self. Soon his kisses were growing harder and his hands were firm on her hips as he backed her up against the sink, taking over, to her utter delight and relief, and yanking up her shirt.

Her shirt tossed to the floor on top of his own, he started kissing her neck and then grabbed her and set her on top of the sink, making her smile to herself and lock her legs around him as his hips ground against hers. Everything was perfect and a rousing success until his hand curled around her hip, the bruised one, and squeezed her against him, and her responding quiet moan against the shell of his ear made his hand suddenly loosen and fall away, and his entire body went a bit stiff. It was as if he had lost himself until that moment, and that he had just realized that he needed to be careful.

He pulled away, though her legs stayed wound around him and his other hand was still buried in her hair, and Summer was panting a little as she asked, "What's wrong?"

Bucky looked in her eyes, then at her lips, and shook his head. "Nothing."

She nodded, though she didn't believe him. "Good." Then she pulled him back to her, kissed him deeply, and moved her hands down to start fighting with his belt. He didn't pull away again, but she could tell that he was being more cautious and not holding her as tightly as he was a moment before. She knew why he wasn't, she really did, but she also wished with everything within her that he would just let go. She didn't mind the bruises. The fun of getting them was more than worth the pain of having them.

She was on the brink of becoming deeply mired in a mental debate of whether to say something, beg him to not hold back with her this time, or simply just jump in the shower and keep her mouth shut, until the creak of some floorboards a room away made Summer stop abruptly so that she could listen more closely. She already could distinguish the sounds of her room's floor creaking apart from the others, and had learned to do so on purpose so that she'd always know when David was awake when she wasn't in the room with him. He didn't like waking up alone, and would rarely venture out to find her, so she would have to go to him to get his day started right.

Another creak confirmed that David was indeed awake and out of bed, and she dropped her shoulders a little bit in frustration as she looked up at Bucky and let out a breath. He knew what the sounds meant too, and he looked just as instantly frustrated as she was, but also like he was possibly about to burst a vein in his neck from his deep concentrated effort to keep himself and his actions under control. He looked utterly conflicted, like he wanted nothing more than to take her as he pleased, but maybe also, on a much more subtle level, like he was relieved that now he didn't have to spend the next fifteen to twenty minutes exerting even more of that strained self control.

"Sorry," she said quietly, taking her hands off of him and trying to shake off the urge to start overthinking and make this worse. "I'll just... I've gotta go, so..."

He nodded, then used the hand still on her waist to pull her in for another kiss. Then he helped her down from the sink, and she grabbed her shirt from the floor and put it back on as he watched her in silence. After, she turned back to him and asked, "Rain check, right?"

He nodded, smiling that same oddly weak smile from when she'd first barged in here, and she tried not to let it bother her too much as she then went to the door and gave him one last look over her shoulder as she left.

She hurried to her room, even more ready now for her talk with Natasha. Meanwhile, Bucky stared at the door after she left, frowning for several different reasons and planning his own talk about the same issues with someone else. Apparently, the last people they wanted to speak of it to was each other.

* * *

"So, this is how you bait the hook," Steve said, holding up a fishing line and the bait in front of him, where Bucky could see it clearly. "This is the easy part. You just go... like that, and now it's ready." Bucky nodded, and Steve paused and then asked, "Ringing any bells?"

"Not really," Bucky said quietly, mimicking Steve's actions. "Are you sure I taught you to fish?"

Steve nodded, glancing out at the small creek they were sitting on the edge of as he replied, "Yeah, when we were seven or eight. My dad wasn't around much to teach me, so you decided to do it yourself. We never caught much, but we still had fun."

Unfortunately, nothing of the story felt familiar, and neither did holding a fishing pole. He was used to that feeling, though, and the act of fishing itself wasn't the main reason why they were here, away from the rest of the farm.

"So," Steve changed the subject as he cast his line out into the water, "let's hear it."

Bucky watched him, then continued to copy his movements and cast his own line. Then he muttered, "I'm not sure where to start."

"Beginning's always good."

He let out a breath, staring at the clear blue water in front of them as he gathered his words. "You know how me and Summer waited... a long time... because I was afraid I'd hurt her or lose control of my arm. There were other reasons too, but a lot of it was that."

"Right."

"Once we stopped waiting, everything seemed okay and I thought I was okay. I was... careful, but it wasn't as scary as I thought it would be."

Steve turned a concerned gaze on his friend and asked, "What happened?"

"Couple of bruises," Bucky replied, still staring at the water.

A few seconds of silence passed, and then Steve said quietly, "I don't want to ask if that's all, but... is that all?"

"I know it doesn't sound like much," Bucky shook his head, "and I know I'm overreacting, but next time it might be more, and it was with this hand." He held up his right hand and then dropped it, while his left one held the fishing pole. "I spent so long worrying about the other hand, and instead it was the normal one. But it's not normal. _I'm_ not normal, and she _is_, and... she acted like it was nothing and no big deal, and I've tried to stop thinking about it, but all I can think is what if I _really_ hurt her or worse. I can see it in my head, I've even dreamed it the last couple of nights. I already worry, _constantly_, about her safety, but I'm the biggest danger in her life, and I... _hate_ it."

Next to him, Steve sighed and took a few seconds before replying, "Well, this was bound to happen eventually, you know, and it's because you're right - you're not normal, and this kind of thing can just sort of... happen. I know because I've done it too."

Bucky looked over at him, a little surprised. "You have?"

"The bruises thing, yeah, more than once. And the first time I was as horrified as you are. I still am whenever it happens, but Nat just shakes it off and reminds me that she's had worse."

"She's different though," Bucky pointed out. "Summer's not like her. She's more... fragile."

"I'm not sure that's the right word," Steve said. "She's never struck me as being very fragile."

"I mean physically," Bucky clarified. "Natasha could throw you across the room if you started actually hurting her. Summer couldn't do that with me."

"But I'm sure Summer would tell you if you were hurting her, and then you could stop," Steve pointed out. "Look, I know it's scary, and I know how easy it is to think and fear the worst, but the thing is, neither of us are ever going to be normal. We're always going to be stronger than everyone else. The only difference is that I chose it and you didn't. But we can't change it. And obviously Summer knows the risks and thinks it's worth it."

Mulling over the words he was hearing, Bucky continued to stare ahead and muttered, "I've been avoiding her. Well, not _her_, but..."

"Right," Steve said, needing no further elaboration.

"And I know she's not stupid and she knows what I'm doing and why, but..."

"... Wait. Have you not talked to her about this at all?"

He shook his head. "Not since the night it happened."

"Well, there's your problem, then. You've gotta talk about it."

"But I know what she'll say. She'll say I'm thinking too much and that she's fine and that I should trust myself."

After a few moments, Steve adjusted his grip on his pole, then said, "... She might be right."

"It's not that simple."

"Maybe it is," Steve replied. "You have to think about it logically. Bruises are easy to give accidentally, even without super-strength. You love her. She trusts you, obviously. You won't hurt her the way you're afraid you will."

Bucky clenched his jaw a bit, wishing he had half the confidence everybody else apparently had in him. But, sitting here now and just saying the words out loud made him feel a little bit better already. Maybe holding it all in really had only made it all that much worse.

"But what you really need to do is talk to her about it. I bet the two of you can get it all figured out in a lot less time than you've spent stressing about it."

He hoped that Steve was right, but he wasn't looking forward to that particular conversation. "Yeah, I guess you're right," Bucky conceded, moving his fishing pole from one hand to the other, vaguely wondering if one of them should have caught something by now. "I think I was hoping that I'd just stop thinking about it and get over it."

"Best way to do that is get it out in the open," Steve said. "It's not so easy to just 'get over' things when you bottle it all up inside." When Bucky nodded absently at that, Steve glanced at him and asked curiously, "Did you talk to Connor about it at therapy yesterday?"

Bucky shook his head. "Already knew what he'd say. I wanted to talk to you instead."

Bucky was still too caught up in his own head to notice much, so he didn't see the way Steve's expression softened slightly and how he almost smiled a little before he quickly hid it, almost as if he was afraid to let it show how happy one simple sentence could make him.

By the time Bucky's attention wandered back to the present, he gave the fishing pole in his hand a slight shake and said, "Why haven't we caught anything yet?"

"Well," Steve sighed, leaning back a little, "I said we used to fish a lot when we were kids, not that we were actually any good at it."

* * *

"... And then I just left like an idiot, without saying a word about anything," Summer concluded her story, letting out a long breath when she did and keeping her eyes fixed on David as he walked in front of her, quite oblivious to the story she had just laid on Natasha. While the men had their conversation at the creek, the women had theirs as they walked along the crops and David helped fill a basket with tomatoes that would be used for that night's dinner. I was a warm morning, and Summer had put on her only sundress that she owned to take the walk, a pretty white and coral number that she'd been waiting to wear once it got warmer. Natasha listened silently to every word she said, absorbing the rather energetic and self-abusing way that Summer told the story of her and Bucky's current issue, not offering a single word until she knew for sure that Summer was done.

"Well... yes, you don't come away from that story sounding very smart, but it's not as if you have much experience to bring to this kind of situation," Natasha pointed out. "Unless you've dated unnaturally strong men with exceptionally dark pasts before."

"Yeah... not so much," Summer replied.

"Well, the solution is pretty simple. You need to talk to him about it."

Summer let out a burdened sigh and muttered, "I know, but I know what he'll say, and..."

"It doesn't matter. You need to talk to him, and you need to assert yourself."

"Assert... myself?"

"Yes. Don't just let him go and drown in his broody self-hating thing that he does. Tell him how you feel and don't let him go anywhere until he understands. It might not change how he's acting, but you're not getting anywhere until he understands. And you hold more power over him than you know. I don't mean that in the sense of you controlling him. More in how easily the smallest thing you do or say can influence him."

"Really?" Summer asked with wide eyes. "It doesn't feel that way."

"Well," Natasha said, "I've watched him go from what he was when Steve first picked him up from your house to what he is now, and you're a pretty big part of his recovery. Put yourself in his shoes. You're not just an important part of his world, you basically _are_ his world. The thought of losing that is probably the scariest thing he can imagine. And he knows that what he does best is kill. He has more memories of the Winter Soldier than he does of his real life. You can't forget that."

Summer felt extremely conflicted about what she had just heard, and instantly extremely guiltily for feeling angry at him earlier. The thing was, she didn't _want_ to be his whole world. He deserved a world much bigger than just her, a life he could enjoy and goals and successes that he could work towards and claim, but, hearing it all laid out the way Natasha had just said it, she could see now that he was quite far from that. He was in an odd in-between state in his recovery, so much better than he used to be but still not exactly independent. He still had very little that was truly his, whether in the personal sense or material sense. If he did well in the mission coming up, hopefully that would all start to change, but if he didn't, it would be another setback the way his last failure was.

"But he's being irrational," Natasha added. "He's not going to kill you. He might leave bruises accidentally sometimes, but Steve does that too. I don't think it's something they can always help, but there's a big difference between a couple of bruises and whatever he's afraid he'll do to you."

A little relieved to hear that even Steve had done the same thing before, Summer nodded and continued letting her mind wander though everything weighing on it. They had come to a stop while David resumed picking tomatoes after a brief interlude spent observing a caterpillar on one of the plants. "I'm a jerk," she sighed. "I got mad at him for no reason and tried to push him into stuff when it's freaking him out. I suck."

Natasha snickered and said, "You're in a long term relationship with the Winter Soldier, and he's what, your second or third boyfriend?"

"Second," Summer admitted.

"Right. So if there's one thing you can depend on, it's that you're both going to act like idiots and hurt each other sometimes. Accepting that will make it easier to get over when it happens."

After a moment, Summer grinned and looked at Natasha and remarked, "You're good with this advice stuff. You get a show like Dr. Phil. 'Love &amp; Relationship Advice with Black Widow'."

Natasha rolled her eyes in good nature. "The ironic thing is, I don't think I've had much more in the way of serious relationships than you have."

"Really? Well... I guess that's not too surprising, being a spy and all. Can I ask a question?" Summer asked, not waiting for an answer before she asked, "You and Clint... you were a thing, right? Because some of the comments he makes around you and Steve are like whoa. Like I can feel the awkwardness there."

"It's awkward for Steve," Natasha shrugged. "He's still new to all of this."

"All of what?"

"... Relationships," she smiled slightly. "And this century. But I like that about him. He's different."

"He's kind of perfect," Summer replied. "I say that in an completely non-creepy way. But he is."

"Sometimes I think the same thing," Natasha replied, but in a slightly sad way, as if such a concept was a bad thing that would eventually spell some sort of doom. But Summer let that go, not wanting to let the conversation get too dark or try to pry too much out of a very private woman.

Their talk shifted to lighter things after that, and Summer spent the entire time hiding her inner glee of being so friendly now with someone she'd once been utterly terrified of. David still refused to warm up to her, and she was pretty sure that he was waiting for the right moment to launch a tomato at Natasha, but at this point, his long-suffering distrust and dislike of the woman was more hilarious than anything.

They circled back to the house around the same time that Bucky and Steve returned from the creek empty-handed. Clint was busy sitting on top of a tree overlooking the new pin that he had been working on that morning, chainsawing off branches that were apparently blocking sunlight he desired the space to have, and Summer lingered outside and told David to stay at her side while she waited for Bucky to get close enough for her to quickly apologize and ask if they could talk later.

By the time he was within earshot, still looking too perfect for his own good and compulsively tucking his hair behind his ear every five seconds while carrying his fishing pole in the other, she called out lightly, "Catch anything?"

Both Bucky and Steve shook their heads, and Steve replied, "Wouldn't be us if we did, apparently."

She smiled, and Bucky's gaze met hers as he came closer, then left briefly when Steve pointedly snatched his pole and then headed back into the house with Natasha. Now alone aside from David and the happily sawing-away Clint who was too far up to count, Summer took a breath and walked a little closer to Bucky as she said quietly, "So..."

"So?" he repeated after she trailed off, looking as uneasy as she felt. His hands were in his pockets of his jeans and she suddenly found herself at a loss for what to say. It was possible that they were both idiots.

The few moments of unease also created a very effective distraction, and Summer didn't notice David starting to wander off from her side to get a closer look at the fallen tree branches.

"I, uh... well, I think I've kind of been an idiot lately, and I'm sorry," she began.

"Sorry for what?" he asked, genuinely confused.

"For... being an idiot," she repeated. "Because I know that since the... incident... things have been kind of off, but..."

"Where's David?"

Summer blinked at Bucky's unexpected interruption, and a cold shot of fear gripped her spine as she processed his question - hearing someone ask where your child was when they were supposed to be right next to you was one of the single most terrifying things ever. She whipped her head around, finding him indeed no longer at her side, and as she began looking around for him wildly and calling his name, her heart started pounding and her breath was nonexistent until she finally spotted him. When she did, it was like a cheesy slow-motion scene from a movie, only genuinely horrifying.

Right in the path of a large, heavy-looking branch that was dangling only inches away from falling was David, picking up smaller branches that had fallen and inspecting them, probably for potential use as a toy weapon. But all Summer saw was the giant branch about to fall and crack David's head open, and she knew yelling at Clint to stop was useless, because the chainsaw was too loud and she was too far away. So, before she could so much as think, she simply acted, running at her son with the sudden adrenaline-created speed of an Olympic sprinter.

She tuned everything else out - Bucky, Clint, the very world itself - and she was running, ignoring Bucky's voice yelling behind her. She quickly got to David, grabbed him and got him out of the way of the branch just in time, placing herself directly in the path of the falling lumber. But then the ground was gone from under her feet and there was a very hard and inhuman arm locked around her middle, picking her up and moving her so that the branch barely touched her. Instead, it hit Bucky, catching his flesh shoulder and part of his head, but for him it was nothing, and the branch actually partially snapped on impact.

It all happened very quickly, and as soon as it was over, Summer's brain started to catch up and process what had happened. David was okay, and she was okay, just grazed more than anything by the branch on the back of one of her shoulders. The sound of the chainsaw ceased, but now someone was yelling. Hands grabbed her shoulders and turned her around ungently, and Summer looked up and froze a little when she realized it was Bucky, who was suddenly inches away from her face as he shouted at her, all while David watched in great confusion and concern.

"Why did you do that?" Bucky demanded, his suddenly angry eyes leaving hers to stare at her shoulder for a moment before moving back to glare at her. The anger was the most jarring thing about his current expression, but she could see clear terror and panic in his eyes as well.

"I... David was about to get hurt," she replied, confused by the question.

"But why didn't you let me get him? I'm right here, and I could have gotten to him faster. I'm stronger than you - why did you do that?"

A little - or a lot - thrown by his apparent furor over what she thought had been a very no-brainer split second decision, she sputtered, "Why are you mad at me? He was about to get hurt, what else was I supposed to do?"

"But I am here," he repeated. "That thing could have hit you on the head, you could have gotten hurt - actually hurt, Summer. I could have gotten him - "

"But it's not your job," she blurted out before she could think of a way to better phrase her reply. "You're not his father. I wasn't even thinking when it happened, I just did it, because that's my job."

When Bucky suddenly shut up and stared blankly at her, rather than keep asking her why in the world she hadn't just let him take care of it, she knew that she'd either said the wrong thing or said it in a very poor way. She realized too late what her tone had sounded like, and as her brain scrambled to catch up with it all and try to fix what she'd just done, Bucky simply let his mask of indifference fall over his face and tugged her forward. "Inside, so I can look at your shoulder."

"Bucky, I didn't mean -"

He shook his head, instantly shutting her up. "Please get inside."

"But - you're the one it hit! You need to have someone check _you_ out," she argued, but he simply frowned and grabbed her arm to haul her away.

Grabbing David's hand while Bucky half-toted her inside the house, Summer closed her eyes in frustration and wondered why she was so good lately at doing and saying the wrong thing.

* * *

As the day went on, Summer realized two things: first, that Bucky was indeed quite angry with her, and second, that she fully believed that he had no legitimate reason to be.

After he had looked at her shoulder and muttered that she probably wouldn't even get a bruise, he had disappeared from the room, and then a revolving door of Avengers asking her what the heck had happened followed. Clint was horrified that he'd almost accidentally caused an injury in either her or David, and just as confused as Summer as to why Bucky was stomping around the house in full brood-mode. Natasha had just sighed when she heard the story, and Steve assured Summer that she had done the right thing - aside from blurring out the whole "not his father" thing in a tone that made it sound more like a belittlement rather than a reasoning for her reluctance to ask him to do certain things for David.

So, dinner looked like breakfast had, with Summer standing over the stove and this time stirring homemade tomato sauce, once again stewing over Bucky and, to an equal extent, herself. Yes, she mentally told herself, she was an idiot and needed to express herself better, but Bucky being angry with her for saving her own kid from a giant tree branch to the head was utterly ridiculous. It was the closest he had ever come to yelling at her, and over that?

"Ridiculous," she murmured to herself, stirring the sauce with more force than was necessary. "So I saved my kid, freaking sue me."

She kept mumbling off and on, then turned around and almost yelled out in surprise to see Bucky standing there, watching her a little uneasily but still wearing the same stony expression he'd worn when he had declared her shoulder fine and then retreated into solitude.

"Um..." he said quietly, gesturing to the silverware drawer that she'd been inadvertently blocking. "I need a... fork."

Dinner wasn't ready yet, so she wasn't sure why he needed one, but she didn't ask. Instead, she decided that she absolutely couldn't stand the look on his face and said, "Well, I'd hand you one, but you probably don't want me that close to sharp objects."

One side of her cheered at the pointless jab, if she could even call it a jab, and the other side smacked its imaginary palm against its imaginary face. Bucky, however, merely looked surprised for a split second before his glower came back in full force. Not saying a word, he simply turned and left the kitchen. She heard the front door open and close right after, and she couldn't decide what would be smarter - begin the mental self-flagellation now or wait until later.

Ultimately, she opted for the former option, and once dinner was finished, she was halfway through with her plate thanks to nervous eating before Steve finally asked where the heck Bucky was.

"He, uh... went outside, I think," she replied, shifting a bit in her seat. "I kind of... pissed him off again."

"Oh boy," Natasha muttered before taking a sip of red wine that would have been tempting to Summer any other day but today. "What's he doing?"

Summer shrugged, having no clue, but Clint piped up, "Probably in the barn. I put a bunch of new wood in there."

_Oh, right,_ she thought. Anger management in the form of chopping logs into firewood. She took a sip of water and muttered, "I've really outdone myself today."

"But have you asserted yourself yet?" Natasha asked, and both Steve and Clint looked at her with puzzled expressions. She ignored them both, raising her eyebrow to Summer.

"Uh... no?" she said a bit unsurely. Then she took a moment and sighed, "No."

"Maybe you should," Natasha suggested before taking another sip of wine. "I'm sure Steve wouldn't mind watching the kid for awhile."

The aforementioned kid then looked up from his own plate and smiled brightly at Steve, confirming Natasha's words. Summer blinked at Nat and then said, "Oh, uh... right. Okay. Now?"

"For God's sake, Summer, go," Natasha deadpanned, and Summer nodded and got up so fast that she almost knocked her chair over.

After Steve listened to the front door open and close, signaling Summer's departure, he glanced at Natasha and asked, "Is 'assert yourself' code for something?"

"Not all all," she shook her head. "I don't even think she knows what it means. But she needed some kind of push. This place is much more pleasant when they're acting like their usual sickening... lovey selves."

"This place is more pleasant in general when it's not a hotel for annoying couples," Clint pointed out. "I'm just saying."

* * *

She heard the familiar sound of an ax's blade slicing through wood before she reached the door of the barn, and once she did, she paused in a moment of uncertainty, fingers fidgeting with the skirt of the sundress she was still wearing as she briefly considered bolting and going back inside.

_The Black fricking Widow told you to assert yourself_, she reminded herself. _Do it. _

Right when she was about to push the door open, she suddenly froze. _Wait. What does that even mean for this situation?_

What was she supposed to do, barge in there and demand that he stop being overly protective, despite the fact that he was inhumanly strong and she was, well, not? Natasha's words to her from earlier that day, the ones about how she was Bucky's world and how understandably terrified he must have been of losing her, came rushing back, and Summer very nearly lost her nerve.

Then she heard another log meet an early end, and with a short intake of breath, she salvaged what courage she had and decided that enough was enough. Whatever happened, they just needed to get it out in the open, and talk through it, regardless of the outcome. So, keeping that thought at the forefront of her mind, she pushed open the barn door and very nearly instantly lost all train of thought.

She walked inside just as he had swung the ax again, and after the log split, he looked up at her through the slight curtain of sweat-soaked hair as it tickled his eyes. His blue button down shirt was all the way undone, revealing the slick, toned skin beneath, and it took her a moment or two of useless staring before she remembered herself and met his gaze. He looked angry still, his features still a little blank and hardened as they coolly regarded her, and it made her snap back into focus as she closed the door behind her.

"You're missing dinner," she stated quietly, and as soon as she spoke, he looked away and grabbed another log to prepare it for the ax, like he hadn't heard her. She stepped a little closer and said, "I know you're mad at me, but -"

"I'm not mad at you," he muttered, but the way he demolished the next log seemed to beg to differ.

"Well... I'm mad at you," she admitted. "And you're sure acting like you're mad at me, so we need to talk it out."

Setting down the ax for a moment, he straightened and then looked at her a bit wearily as he replied, "There's nothing to talk about. Talking doesn't change anything."

"If you mean that talking won't take away your super-strength, then yeah," she said, "you're right, I guess, but there's more to it than that and you know it. And before we get into any of that, first I want to say that I'm sorry for the whole 'you're not his father' thing. I was just trying to say how I feel and how I try to do everything for him myself because I feel like that's my job. I wasn't trying to say that you're nothing to him."

"What am I to him?" Bucky asked, not angrily or viciously, but rather quietly and honestly. "I'm _not_ his father. I'm just... there."

Summer smiled a little sadly and replied, "And that's already a whole lot more than he's ever gotten from his real father."

Bucky didn't argue that, looking down and pausing for a moment before he muttered, "What you said wasn't the problem."

"Then if it was the saving him thing, then I'm sorry but I'm not apologizing for it. I'd do it again in a heartbeat. I'd step in front of a car for him. I'd go to hell and back for him, and you know that, so I don't why all of a sudden -"

"It's not all of a sudden."

"Fine, but I still don't know why you're acting like this when you know that sometimes things just happen. I can't wrap myself in bubble wrap and never leave the house for fear of getting hurt. I get that you're protective and I get why, but..."

"You don't," he said simply.

"I do," she argued.

"No, you don't."

"Fine, then tell me." When he said nothing, she threw up her hands in frustration and said, "See? This is our problem. We're not talking about what's bothering us."

"What's bothering you?" he asked quietly, but a little begrudgingly.

She paused for a moment, crossing her arms and shifting slightly on her feet as she gathered her courage again. "Okay. Today when I was trying to start something with you in the bathroom, everything was perfect until you stopped and started holding back. And when I had to leave, I knew you didn't want me to, but you almost looked relieved at the same time. And I know it's stupid, but that kind of... hurt."

She watched as confusion and then surprise flickered across his features. He seemed at a loss to answer, so she kept going. "The thing is, I get why you're being like this, but it's a step backwards for us, and it's all because of a few stupid little bruises that you know I don't care about. I'm trying to trust you - I do trust you, with everything I have - but you don't trust yourself, so then this crap ends up happening."

"What do you want me to do?" he asked, furrowing his brows. "Pretend everything's fine, that I'm normal, that I can't hurt you just from holding you?"

"No, I don't want you to pretend, I want you to believe that you won't hurt me, just like I do."

"I can't do that," he replied simply, in a very resigned tone.

"You _can_," she insisted.

A look of irritation crossed his face and Bucky said, "You don't know what you're talking about. You've gotta let his go."

"Let it go?" she asked, eyes widening and voice getting a bit louder. "Seriously?"

"Yes, because you have no idea what it's like," he replied, gaze leaving hers at the last word, like it was painful to look at her in that moment.

She stepped closer to him then, close enough to reach out and touch him, which she did as she said, "Then tell me what it's like! My God, Bucky, this is why I'm here, because I love you and I care and I want to understand and help make it better!"

He reached down and gently brushed her hand away from his shoulder, then took a step back. "But that's why you can't."

"Why?" she furrowed her brows. "Because I love you? How does that make any sense?" When he said nothing, just clenched his jaw and continued to avoid eye contact, Summer felt her anger blooming once more as she added, "And by the way, I'm getting really sick of you acting like I'm this fragile thing, like if you look at me the wrong way I'll shatter. I've shot a HYDRA agent in the shoulder and tasered another, and carried kids out of a burning skyscraper in _five inch freaking heels - _don't you think I'm pretty tough for some girl from Virginia?"

He chuckled then - actually chuckled, and her anger teetered dangerously close to full-blown rage. "Oh, okay, is that what it is, then?" she asked, taking a step forward, vaguely aware that she was bordering on ridiculous at this point and not caring. "I'm just _me_, with no superpowers and no real skills unless it involves a pen or a kitchen, so of course then I'm some weak, stupid girl."

His scoff of the moment prior faded as he stared at her, and she couldn't quite call it a glare, but the longer it lasted, the heavier it burned and the more determined she became to face him despite the inner urge to shrink under his gaze.

"I'm not that weak, you know," she continued to rant. "And if you keep treating me like I am, I'm gonna freak out."

"I never said you were weak," he said through gritted teeth, his gaze becoming even more intense somehow as he stared right through her.

"No, it's not what you're saying, it's what you're doing!" she yelled in exasperation, and the simple act of raising her voice to that degree seemed to do the trick of making him snap.

Suddenly there was a new log in his hands, and Summer stared at it very briefly, unsure of what he was going to do with it, and then he was yelling right back at her, making her jump at the change in volume. "I think sometimes you forget what I am!"

And then, in an image that would be forever seared into Summer's often-replayed memory, Bucky then literally tore the log in half with his bare hands, the sound of the wood violently splitting ripping through the air between them as her jaw dropped. Bucky then dropped the two halves, and after she watched them plunk to the floor, she looked up at him in a wide-eyed stupor and said, "That was... incredibly hot. Can you do it again?"

He had clearly _not_ been aiming for or anticipating that reaction. He looked away and shook his head, pushing his hair away from his face, while she continued to be in awe, rather than fear, of the sheer, raw strength of him.

"This isn't a joke, Summer."

"I wasn't joking."

She stared at him then, undeterred and stubborn, much like himself. She waited for him to crack, to break, to finally see things from her perspective and just stop being this way and fearing himself to deeply, but he appeared utterly unwilling to budge.

And that left her with very few options.

"Well," she sighed eventually, after a long silence, "fine. If this is how it's gonna be, I guess we're just going to have to go back to being celibate."

She then turned and started to walk away, hoping her new strategy would work. It did.

"Wait. What?"

Stopping short of the door, she turned to find him staring at her in disbelief and confusion. She took a deep breath and said, "It's an all or nothing thing, Bucky. The only thing I hate more than not being in your bed is being in it but being able to tell how far away you are. I can feel you thinking and feel you paying attention to everything except what you should be. I mean, there's a difference between being careful and thinking so much that you make yourself miserable."

"All or nothing?" he repeated, still bewildered and apparently utterly opposed to the very suggestion of what she was saying.

"Yes!" she nodded. "Maybe it would be different if we had started out like this, but we didn't, and I can't enjoy it the same way if I know you're not enjoying it like you should."

"Summer, I can't," he said through gritted teeth.

She met his gaze then, more fearlessly than she had all night, and shrugged. "Fine."

Anger returning and nearly making her hands shake, she turned around, fully ready to head out the door.

"Summer."

She ignored him and kept walking. But before her hand could touch the door, both of his hands were on her shoulders and he was turning her around a little roughly. She looked up him, her mouth dropping open a bit at the anger and utter pain on his face as he half-yelled and half-growled, "_Why is it so hard for you to get that I can't lose you?_"

She was suddenly speechless, barely able to do more than gape uselessly at him as his tight grip on her shoulders didn't let up. Any tighter and she would bruise, and she _really_ hoped she wouldn't.

"Nothing," he said more quietly but just as roughly, through his teeth, "scares me more than the thought of losing you." She only noticed that he had turned her again and was backing her up slowly, towards somewhere, as he added, "Nothing."

She felt her back hit something, but she wasn't sure what it was, and she didn't really care, because now she was pinned between him and whatever it was. His anger and previous physical exertion was rolling off of him in waves of heat, and being pressed against him, held in this position by his hands that still hadn't let up, left her nearly gasping for air already.

In the silence of the moment, filled only by the sounds of their growing-heavier breaths, she looked down from his eyes just long enough to see her hands grasping at his open shirt, on each side just under the collar, and she wasn't sure how long she had been doing that. She swallowed, moved her hands from the shirt to his chest, his skin almost burning under her palms, and then met his gaze one more time.

She was still mad. She was mad that he'd laughed at her. She was mad that he had been avoiding her for a week. She was mad about everything from earlier. None of her anger had dissipated.

His eyes told the same story. The clench of his jaw confirmed it. His stare was desperate, but determined, and she knew he wasn't going to back down.

But there was something else in his eyes too, something that she wasn't sure about, but it made her think of how he'd ripped that poor log in half with just his hands and how instant and almost overwhelming her reaction had been to seeing that...

And then, something in the air between them snapped, and she had no idea who moved first. His lips crashed to hers, or maybe hers to his, she wasn't sure, and it didn't matter, because it was all fire and anger and the exhilaration of letting go and releasing it all in a way that felt almost beyond control. She couldn't think and she couldn't stop, because it was all instinct and something more primal than what she had felt before.

The first kiss was hard and unrelenting, with his hands leaving her arms to move into her hair, while her fingers curled unintentionally hard against his chest, making her nails bite down into his skin. He made a noise into her mouth, whether of pain or pleasure she didn't know, and then his tongue was utterly plundering her mouth while she tore her hands away and then used them to quickly yank his shirt from his shoulders. His mouth didn't leave hers as it hit the floor, and then his hands took hers and briefly pinned them on either side of her head as his entire body moved against hers. She couldn't breathe except to moan, and when he let go of her wrists to grab her hips and pull them even tighter into his, she grabbed his hair and pulled sharply on two fistfuls of it, making him break away and let out a rough gasp of a moan before opening his eyes. She panted through her open mouth and only stared back for a second before he picked her up, her legs winding around his waist with the skirt of her dress bunched at her hips as he spun them around and started walking them somewhere else.

He kissed her as they went, and she bit his lip as he pulled away, thoroughly enjoying the lack of thinking and the dominion of instinct and _need_ in this moment, but her head wasn't completely gone. She looked down when he came to a stop, and she realized he'd taken her over to where the hay was. Most of the stacks went to the ceiling, but two were next to each other and low enough - perfect height, actually - for him to sit her down on and resume ravaging one another.

But before she let him kiss her again, Summer looked up at him and said with a lingering spark of defiance, "I'm still pissed at you."

He stared back at her, a bit blankly at first, but then his eyes went to her chest as it heaved up and down under her dress with her heavy breaths, and then he looked back up and growled, "Shut up."

Then she let out a gasp of surprise as he all but tossed her down on her back, and then his hands were taking the front of her dress in his fists, and before she could even process what was coming, he ripped it in half with zero effort. The cool air hit her unbelievably flushed skin as she gasped yet again, this time in pure surprise that he had actually ripped her dress in half, but he missed her outraged (and even more aroused) expression due to his eyes focusing on her apparently surprising lack of a bra under her dress.

"You," she breathed, picking up one end of the ruined fabric with one hand, "you ripped my dress... this cost me like thirty dollars, and you..."

He glanced up at her eyes then at last, then was on top of her as he silenced her with another barrage of searing kisses. In the midst of the assault, he growled against her lips, "So make me pay for it."

She knew he wasn't talking about money, and her last shred of control tore as quickly as the dress had as she sat up, forcing him to stand up straight as her mind went utterly blank at his words. Her chest pressed tightly against his and her hands tugged at his hair again as she kissed him before they dropped down to start undoing his belt, while his hands caused enough knots in her hair to last a week.

She was still angry, even more so now, and the air was becoming stiflingly hot and it felt utterly filthy doing this on top of a stack of hay in a barn, but she knew it was also going on her top five list of favorite memories ever. But she had no time to think on it or comprehend anything, because as soon as her hands had successfully shoved his jeans down a few inches, he had bitten her neck and then grabbed her arms to push her back down and have his way with her.

If all their arguments ended like this, she could live with that.

* * *

He was well aware that his actions seemed to be in direct contradiction to the words he had spent their argument throwing at her, but somewhere in his mind, he was also aware that it was a test of sorts.

She didn't want him to hold back. He understood why, and he couldn't blame her. Her words and Steve's words had been like tiny, annoying little pricks of needles nagging at his mind and making him even angrier for some reason, perhaps because it was easier to avoid her out of fear rather than face it and find out if they were right and that he really _could_ trust himself.

And in the end, he was glad for it, because he gave Summer what she wanted, and what he wanted desperately, and even though he had not been particularly gentle compared to his normal fare, he had still been careful, and Summer ended up fine.

Relief, of several kinds, washed over him as he breathed against her neck, still panting a little, still holding her and still entwined with her as he tried to gather the strength to rise from his place collapsed on top of her. She was as limp as he was, drenched in sweat from them both and holding him with one hand on his back and the other loosely in his hair. It had been a first for several things, mostly of doing this while they were both angry at the other, and he had not anticipated how intense it could be. He had barely needed to touch her to see her completely fall apart, so high she was from the mixture of anger and arousal. Now he was simply dazed and more tired than usual, and not to mention still trying to wrap head around it all.

They enjoyed the calm after the storm in silence, which was broken only when Bucky finally raised himself up and risked a more sober look at her. She opened her eyes and looked at him a bit dreamily, anger apparently gone for now, and she smiled as he took stock of how he had wrecked her appearance. The amount of hay sticking out from her hair was ridiculous, and her neck bore the marks of his lips and teeth, but he was okay with that, because he had _meant_ to put those marks there. There were others, too, on the swell of her breasts, on her stomach, one on her inner thigh that he remembered her screaming at a little bit when he had given it to her...

But she wasn't hurt.

Unable to find any decent words to say that seemed right in that moment, he leaned down and gave her a gentle kiss that served to wipe away the angry atmosphere of before and remind her that regardless of what happened between them or how angry she might make him, he loved her, and nothing would ever be more important than that.

"I'm sorry," he half-whispered after drawing away a few inches and brushing her sweat-dampened hair from her face. His own hair was in his eyes to the point of driving him crazy, but he didn't care at the moment.

"What for?" she asked softly, her voice a little hoarse perhaps from how she had been using it a few moments ago.

"Trying to run away from the problem," he said. "And hurting your feelings this morning."

She smiled, reaching up and moving the longer, disobedient pieces of hair behind his ears for him. "I'm sorry too. Mostly for not talking to you about it when that was really all we needed to do. And for being a jerk when you asked me for a fork."

He laughed, and she did too, and he kissed her one more time. "Yeah, but you're cute when you're mad."

She rolled her eyes a little but replied, "And _you_ are apparently even more of a sex god when you're mad." He grinned despite himself and was coming up with a retort when she added, "Except, the problem is, we have to go back inside the house, and you ripped my dress in half."

He stared at her for a moment, and she stared at him, and then they started laughing again.

He ended up finally moving up and off of her, helping her sit up and first working on picking out the biggest and most obvious pieces of hay from her hair. Afterwards, he helped her tie what was left of the dress into a makeshift-skirt. Then he got his shirt from the floor and put it on her, buttoning it up for her while she sighed, "This is so obvious. Everybody's gonna know we were banging in the barn."

"They always know everything," he shrugged. "It doesn't matter."

"Yeah, except David's in there, and he's about to see his mother walk inside the house wearing your shirt and a really weird skirt made out of a dress, while you're shirtless and kind of filthy looking."

He nodded and kept a straight face as long as he could before he laughed at that too. She slapped his shoulder in mock-anger, then pulled him closer for a kiss as she mirrored his smile and murmured, "I've missed you smiling. You've barely smiled this week and it sucks."

He nodded, having not enjoyed the ordeal anymore than she had. But this night had been a great step in the right direction, and with help from both her and Steve, maybe everything would be all right, at least in this area. So he kissed her, and they laughed together a few more times about the absurdity of everything before mutually deciding to venture back towards the house.

Summer fidgeted at his side the whole walk there, and once he got to the front door and opened it, he could nearly _feel_ her trying to shrink into the background, but Natasha was the first to spot them, being in the kitchen when when they first walked inside.

Natasha raised an eyebrow, taking in their overall appearance before smirking and saying, "I take it someone must have asserted themselves rather well."

Bucky glanced at Summer, who smiled uneasily and blushed brightly before shrugging. "Yeah, I uh... yep. Where's David?"

"Living room with Steve, so you can go change first if you want," Natasha replied.

"Oh, thank God," Summer replied gratefully before taking Bucky's hand and dashing up the stairs with him.

On their way up, between a few more hushed chuckles and his attempts to pluck out a bit more hay from her hair, they passed Clint, who was going downstairs. He gave them a look once he was close enough, spent about two seconds deducting what had occurred, and then looked at Bucky before deadpanning, "Clean up your mess in my barn or I'll burn it and make you build me a new one."

Bucky stared back at him just as blankly, and Summer looked momentarily concerned before Clint grinned and then walked past them. Bucky glanced at Summer and grinned too, and the next thing that Clint called out to them over his shoulder as he descended the stairs made them both laugh yet again.

"And use bleach."

It felt good to laugh, and even better to smile and really mean it. Maybe, he decided as he followed Summer into her room to get his shirt back, everything might actually turn out okay.

**A/N: First things first: inspiration for the log-ripping thing gets credited to the leaked AOU teaser where Steve talks about his dark side to Tony and then angrily rips a log in half. I am still not recovered from that particular sight. *takes deep breath* Second, I have to thank midnightwings96 even more than usual this week, because this particular chapter was quite tricky, and it required a decent amount of revision that her input was crucial to. Suffice it to say, plausibly writing this particular couple fighting and arguing is _not_ easy, and I needed a lot of help getting it right lol, and as always, she was incredibly helpful and I love her bunches. Anyway, next thing - I am still way behind on PMs here but I'm not ignoring anybody, I've just been without Internet until now and trying to conserve what little Internet I get on my phone, but now everything is back to normal, so yay lol :p Also, my usual heaps of thanks and love to you wonderful readers, reviewers, followers, lurkers, etc., I love you all and continue to be super happy that you're all sticking with this story. The best of it is yet to come, and I've got some extremely good stuff planned here for the rest of it (and beyond, since once it's over I plan on writing a series of extremely long oneshots continuing it), so keep reading :D See you all next week :)))**


	21. Chapter 21

"Are you sure you want me to do this?"

"_Yes_, Summer."

"But... you're sure?"

"Yes. Unless you don't want to do it, but I thought you did."

"No, I do. I like doing it and I definitely don't want anyone else doing it to you."

"Then why are you hesitating?"

Sighing heavily, Summer looked down at the scissors in her hands and smiled as she walked around the chair that Bucky was perched on the edge of, shirtless, as he waited for her to cut his hair. David was busy on the floor of her bedroom some feet away, back in his old habit of taking his toys apart with little screwdrivers and then putting them back together, and meanwhile, _Frozen_ was playing on the TV for the hundredth time due to David's love of the movie. Summer bit her lip as Bucky looked up at her a bit expectantly, with a small smile of his own, and she said, "I just... I'm gonna miss... this." Her fingers ran through the long front pieces of his hair, making her point for her, and his grin widened.

"What you're really gonna miss is yanking on it all night."

"Hey, little ears," she quickly reminded him, though she was already blushing and still smiling. "But yes, I will miss that, even if I agree that's it's probably time to cut it."

His hair was now long enough to get in the way significantly enough to bother him, and when it had reached the point of being able to fly into his mouth if the wind blew it wrong, it not only reminded him of the times when he'd had his much longer Winter Soldier hair, but it was also utterly annoying. Summer had noticed his discomfort and had offered to cut it for him, but actually doing the deed was proving a bit difficult.

"You'll still get to pull on it," he pointed out, though he whispered now for David's sake. "It's just going back to normal."

"I know," she whispered back, "but I'm gonna miss how you look when you're on top and your hair's all sweaty and in your face and..." she trailed off when she looked up and saw the knowing, slightly maddening grin on his face. She cleared her throat and smiled, "Anyway. Okay. I can do this."

He nodded, still grinning, and she walked around the chair again, standing behind him as she picked the scissors back up. She was also equipped with clippers, to clean up the sides and his neck, but it was always easiest to start with the scissors first and at the back of the head, in her opinion. And it was also easiest considering how distracting he could be once she got around to doing the front of his hair.

The first snip was the hardest, but once it was done, she let out the breath she'd been holding and found the rest quite easy to do. She had been cutting his hair for months now, ever since he'd paid her that surprise visit in Virginia before her house had blown up, and it had become a sort of calming ritual for them, usually about once a month or so, since his hair seemed to grow rather quickly. She never once took for granted the fact that he trusted her to put very sharp instruments so close to his skull, and for her, she liked the way it felt to take care of him in that way, as seemingly insignificant as it may have seemed on the surface. Sometimes they chatted as she snipped away, and other times they stayed in a comfortable silence, and this time was one of the latter ones.

She listened to the sounds of David's tinkering and the occasional click of Bucky's arm as she worked, finding the same sort of lull in the act of cutting hair that she did in cooking. It was relaxing in the same kind of way, focusing on a singular task and working to achieve the final result. This time, the result was watching Bucky's farm look give way to his normal one, and it was nothing but appropriate, given how their time at the farm was running out. The tower's repairs would be finished very soon, and she would be going back to work, and the mission Bucky would be taking part in was coming up too. The whole time they'd spent on Clint's farm had been like a time-out from real life, in many ways, and leaving it would be as bittersweet as it was cutting off his hair.

When she got to the front of his hair, and was standing in front of him as she combed through it and kept cutting, Bucky stared at her like he always did at this point. What she didn't know was that every time she had ever cut his hair, while she had worked on the back and sides, he kept his eyes closed and enjoyed the calm of the moment along with her gentle touches. Then he would always open them once she was back in his line of sight, and the extent to which he would try to distract her depended on their current company. Thanks to David's presence, he kept the distractions to a minimum this time.

"Okay," she said with a look of deep concentration on her face as she set down her instruments again and brushed his hair down with her fingers, starting on the top and then working her way down the much-shorter sides. He never liked his hair overly short, and she always tried to keep it at least a little similar to what she had seen in his old pictures, but with a more modern touch. What that meant was, he had enough hair to look as neat or as messy as he pleased, without it bothering him or falling into his eyes. She smiled at the return of the look that she was most fond of. This was always how she pictured him in her mind, regardless of how much she had enjoyed the brief longer hair. "Hm. I missed seeing you like this more than I realized."

He smiled back, while her hand left his hair to trail down to his shoulder, his metal one, and brush away a few stray fallen hairs. "I'll clean up here if you want to go jump in the shower now." He nodded, then slowly got to his feet, and she gave him one more smile before turning and heading for the door herself, intending to grab a broom to sweep up the floor with.

But his arm shot around her waist before she could go, and she let out a little squeak as her back hit his still-bare chest and he pressed a quick but sweet kiss to her neck. She laughed and her eyes quickly darted to David, who glanced their way and scrunched up his little face in distaste before turning back to his toy and opting to ignore them.

"Thank you," Bucky said, utterly unnecessarily, and she smiled happily in reply just before he kissed the tip of her nose and let her go. She forgot why she had been trying to leave the room, and instead watched him grab his shirt from the floor and look back at her one more time before he left the room. Her smile remained intact after he shut the door behind himself, and after a few seconds, she bit her lip and ended up flopping down on her bed with a groan.

Staring up at the ceiling, she briefly took stock of things as thoroughly as she could over the course of a minute or two, all while still smiling like an idiot. Things were actually sort of great at the moment. Bucky's paranoia had calmed down a bit after the mild disaster over those accidental bruises, and though he was still very careful when they were together, he wasn't holding back like he had been, and their nights were back to being maddeningly perfect. Her days were nothing to sneeze at either, and just the day before before, David had convinced Steve, Bucky, and Summer with his wild hand gestures and adorable smiles to play Mario Kart with him. Steve actually wasn't so bad, as Sam had been trying to teach him the art of gaming for a month or two, and Summer was an old veteran of the game, but Bucky had held the controller like it was an alien artifact that required extensive knowledge of ancient runes to operate. Summer thought it was him at his most charmingly and accidentally cute, and no amount of her coaching stopped him from finishing in dead last every single race.

In other words, everything was pretty good. Bucky was doing well, and spending a lot of time with Steve every day in preparation for the upcoming mission, and it seemed to do him good. When Natasha was around, Summer loved it, because she finally felt reasonably confident in calling the super-spy a friend. Clint was also becoming one of her favorites, and he and Bucky seemed to relate on a level quite exclusive to the two of them.

And David, her sweet little David, was turning six next month, and he was signing more and more each day. He'd actually asked for a specific type of food from her using sign language earlier that day, and she had wanted to throw a party and ride through the city in a limo with her head sticking out in celebration of such a seemingly mundane event. But it was such a big deal for her, and the nice thing was, Bucky understood these things, because he knew very well how huge the little things could be.

She remembered when Bucky couldn't even eat a bite of normal food without throwing up, or crack a smile, or, much of the time, even blink. They had all come a long way, Bucky the most, obviously, but David was catching up, and Summer was indescribably proud of them both.

But, she realized as she continued to stare at the ceiling, she hadn't had nearly the same level of growth as the two of them. Sure, she'd moved (forcibly), gotten a job, rebuilt her life following HYDRA's invasion of her life and entered into her first truly serious, not to mention intimate, relationship of her life. But it all felt like... very little to brag of.

She frowned a little, not liking the feeling. Her degree was unfinished, ever since she's taken a leave of absence at college after the move to New York. She had yet to write a single word of anything on the laptop that Paul had bought her on his last visit. She might have been working, and cooking, and taking care of the two boys that she loved most in the world, but she also realized that she hadn't exactly been pushing herself in certain areas. After all, she didn't want to work as an assistant forever, and yet her best shot at financial independence - writing a book - was perpetually dead in the water.

She blew out a breath and wrinkled her nose at herself. She really needed to figure that out. Until she did, and until she got on her own path to reaching her potential, the way Bucky and David were, she would continue to be unimpressed with herself.

But before she could turn her happy thoughts too self-abusive, a little face suddenly entered her line of sight. She looked up and laughed as David peered down at her, his face upside down compared to hers.

"Hey, kiddo," she smiled, reaching out and pulling him down to the bed as he giggled. She hugged him close and he let her squeeze him to death before he started trying to squirm away, and when he did, she let him go. He stuck his tongue out at her and then hopped back to his toys, and she sat up in the bed, watching him a bit wistfully as he got back down to business disassembling and reassembling his toys. He was getting so big, and it was all at once terrifying and amazing, in every sense of the terms.

Her phone on the nightstand then began to ring with her brother's familiar ringtone, and she grinned as she picked it up and answered, "Man, I thought you'd fallen off the face of the Earth."

"Nope, but a week of false labor alarms tend to scramble my brain," he replied without missing a beat. "Hey kid."

"Nerd," she smiled. "I've missed your annoying voice."

"I bet you have. My voice is awesome."

"So no baby yet, though?"

Paul sighed. "Nope. This one's being an even bigger jerk than the others. Sarah's about to throttle me just for having the audacity to breathe while she suffers. She's starving but she can't eat much because she says there's no room, and she's so hot she's got the AC blowing full blast all the time and me and the kids are freezing to death."

Summer grinned. "Is she vowing again that this is the last kid?"

"Of course. We'll see in a month or two. So what's new with you? You back at that tower yet?"

"Not yet. Still at the super top secret superhero lair," she teased. "But we should be going back fairly soon."

"Good. That's why I was calling, actually. I was thinking about making a trip out there for David's birthday next month."

"Next month?" she repeated. "Really? With a new baby?"

"Well, since she's due any day now, she'll be a month old or so by then. We've travelled with babies that small before."

"Yeah, but... you'll have seven kids... under ten," she pointed out, eyes widening at just the thought of traveling with that many little kids at once.

"Sarah's mom could take some of the kids," Paul said. "We want to come out. We miss you and David. And she wants to meet Voldemort."

"Oh, well... wait," Summer narrowed her eyes. "She's got a thing for Steve, doesn't she? She had that t-shirt of his face that she wore all the time after the New York thing. And she said he was number one on her 'allowable cheat' list."

"... Yeah, that's true," Paul conceded, "and by the way, it'll never not be weird that you refer to Captain America as 'Steve'."

"Weird and _awesome_," she grinned. "He's seriously great."

"Well duh, he's Captain America!" Paul retorted.

"Yeah, but I mean as a person," she replied. "And guess who I'm like officially friends with now?"

"Um... do I want to know?"

She rolled her eyes. "Natasha."

"Oh!" his voice brightened instantly. "Natasha. Yeah. Natasha."

"Hey, calm down over there."

"Sarah's got her allowable cheat list, so do I."

"That's gross. The people you want to let each other cheat with are together in real life. That just seems wrong."

"Oh, whatever," Paul replied. "I bet you'd still bang Tom Hiddleston if you got the chance."

Summer opened her mouth to scoff at such an idea, but then an even better idea came to mind, and her eyes widened as she gasped, "No, even better! Tom Hiddleston _and_ Bucky at the same time -"

Paul's sudden wail of an agonized curse hit her ear, and she heard fumbling sounds like he was dropping his phone in his haste to cleanse his ears of what he'd just heard. She laughed heartily, and when he finally got the phone back to his own ear, Paul said, "Summer, I mean it - stop saying things like that. It's not natural for baby sisters to say things like that. They're supposed to stay babies. Forever."

She laughed again. "Yeah, I think we crossed that bridge a long time ago."

He grumbled a bit and then said, "Yeah, well, anyway, moving on from _that_ \- I did have one more reason for calling you. I've been thinking."

"Uh oh," she automatically replied.

"Yeah. So, I'm willing to bet my medical degree that you haven't written a single word on that laptop I got you."

She cringed a little before muttering, "Yeah... busted?"

"Right. Okay, so, I have a challenge for you. I want you to write... let's say... at least five hundred words everyday until I see you for David's birthday."

"Five hundred words?" She repeated. "But that's -"

"Nothing, at least not for you," Paul replied. "Remember when you were in your fanfiction days and wrote like a couple thousand words a day?"

"Yeah, because I had actual ideas," she said. "I don't have any ideas right now, for anything. I can't just make five hundred words appear out of nowhere."

"Sure you can," he countered. "Isn't that what writing is?"

Sighing, she groaned, "Paul..."

"Look," he quickly added, "I'm saying this because you need a push. I know you're happy right now and I'm glad for that, but don't become... I don't know, stationary because of it."

"I'm not," she replied. "I'm working, or, well, I'll be back to work soon. I'm juggling a lot, actually, and I've even been looking at schools to get David into since he's been doing really well with people."

"I know, and I get that, but I also know you," Paul said. "You always take care of everyone else first and give everyone else all your focus, and that's not a bad thing, but you need to take care of yourself, too. And do your own stuff. Writing is your stuff."

"... But I have nothing to write," she said.

"So just start with something random, then see where it leads. You just need to write _something_. You could even write about your life."

"Ugh, don't start that again," she groaned.

"Why not? It's a good idea! You're the most interesting person me and Sarah know, by the way. We're always talking about you and your life and wondering what's going on that we're missing. It would make a great story. Just make it more fictional and dramatic or whatever, and there you go."

"So, what... orphan girl raised by grandmother has a baby under traumatic circumstances and then eventually falls in love with a... traumatized veteran amputee? While people keep trying to kill them?"

"I mean, I don't know, you're the storyteller," Paul shrugged. "But yeah. Something like that. You can do it so easily. Just don't write fifty shades of... Winter."

She laughed again. "Oh, I so could if I really wanted to."

"Yeah, please don't," Paul replied. "But seriously. Just try it for a week. If you can't do it, then fine. But try this week, and if it works, keep going. Five hundred words every day until David's birthday."

"Fine," she finally agreed. "I'll try."

"Okay. Good. And when I get there, I want to read it."

"All right," she nodded. "And you'd better make it out here now that you're getting my hopes up."

"I will. So long as the baby's good and healthy, it'll happen. I want to come out a lot more than I have. I want David to really know us. And I still can't believe the sign language thing."

She smiled a little sadly and said, "I know. It's awesome. He's awesome. And I want him to know all you better, too. You know - you _could_ get a job out in New York."

"Yeah... maybe. Once my residency's finished, I can look around and talk to Sarah about it. But, _you_ could also come out here."

"I know... but the thing is, I think Bucky's gonna need to be in New York for awhile. He needs to be wherever Steve is. And I'm not going anywhere without him."

"Figured that," Paul said. "I take it things are good with you two."

She smiled. "Yeah. Very."

"Still on the pill, right?"

She rolled her eyes. "Shot, actually, and yes."

"Good."

"You don't have to ask me that every time, you know."

"Yes I do," he argued. "I'm the only person you've got to check up on you about these things. And I know how you are around this guy."

She narrowed her eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," he quickly replied. "Anyway, gotta go."

"Fine," she sighed. "Call me when she's in labor for real."

"Will do."

After saying their last goodbyes, Summer hung up the phone and set it down on the bed, sighing as her brain swirled with the confusion of what the heck to write five hundred words about every single day for a month. That was no small amount of words for any writer, really, let alone a rather rusty one, but she knew Paul was right - she _could_ do it. It was just a matter of what to write about.

Absently watching David fiddle with his toys, she decided after some time of pondering while she chewed her lip in contemplation that she could always just write a 500-word drool-worthy description of Bucky's daily looks each day, then enjoy Paul's misery when he had to read it all.

* * *

"What did it feel like?"

Clint looked up and paused from his task of hammering pieces of wood together, glancing at the man who was lending him a hand in renovating his goats' pin and asking, "What did what feel like?"

Unsure of how exactly to put it, Bucky gestured to his own head and then back to Clint. "The thing that happened to you."

Expression staying neutral, Clint looked back down at the wood and resumed hammering. "Felt like you would imagine. You'd probably have a better idea than most."

"Yeah, but..." Bucky paused, making sure to frame his words correctly, because he knew how annoying poorly thought out questions regarding his own woes could be. "Could you remember everything? Who you were, your life?"

"Sure," Clint nodded. "But it didn't matter that I could. I was there, but I wasn't there. Like I was watching and I knew what was happening, but I couldn't do a thing about it."

Bucky almost wished that he could say the same for his own ordeal, but instead, when he looked back on his own unwanted, violent memories, he remembered feeling nothing, and not really any sense of what Clint was describing. At least not until he had tried to kill Steve. But, he also knew that he had many memories to yet recover, and for all he knew, there had been other times when he had begun to become more self-aware.

"You ever feel guilty?" Bucky asked, handing Clint another 2x4.

Clint actually cracked a grin at that one. "Is that a serious question? Of course I do. Guilt was one of the worst parts of it all. I almost took out an entire helicarrier doing Loki's dirty work. I would have killed Nat if she hadn't literally knocked me back into reality. I even shot Nick Fury." Then he paused and added, "Guess we have that in common."

Bucky kept quiet about that one, though Steve had told him in confidence that Fury wasn't actually dead in an effort to assuage his guilt once those memories resurfaced. One less death to weigh on his mind, Steve had said.

He still couldn't help but feel that Clint had a better excuse for his actions than he did himself.

"I know why you're asking," Clint said, "and I'm not gonna tell you that it's all okay and it wasn't your fault and that you shouldn't feel guilty. Even if all that's true, it doesn't matter. You're still gonna feel guilty anyway. Everyone can tell you all day long not to, and it's not gonna matter."

Bucky frowned a little, though it was a relief to hear Clint say those words, knowing how very truthful it was. After a moment, he asked, "How do you deal with it?"

"Well, first I remind myself of who the guilt should actually belong to," Clint said. "And then I stop thinking about it."

Bucky looked at him a little helplessly. "How?"

Taking another break from the hammering, Clint glanced up towards the sun and then looked back down as he said, "Read a book. Come outside and work on something. Talk to someone on the phone. Target practice. Sometimes just a change in scenery is enough to do it. But if you sit around and stew in it, it consumes you."

Bucky nodded, and then for awhile, the two men were silent. Bucky debated bringing up a significant source of his guilt, something he remembered doing that still made no sense to him. He had done research in an attempt to understand it, thought about it and tried to analyze every inch of the memory until he had exhausted it, but he was every bit as confused as he had been the day he'd first remembered it. After a bit of going back and forth in his head, he finally said, "There's this one thing... it bothers me more than anything, I think. Even more than when I tried to kill Steve."

Clint glanced up at him, still hammering. "Yeah?"

"It was a kid," Bucky said, forcing the words out and avoiding eye contact as he said it. "It was a little girl at her birthday party, in her own backyard, and I just..."

"They had you kill a little girl?" Clint asked, appearing genuinely confused by this.

Bucky nodded, still trying to look at anything but the person he was speaking to. "I've tried to figure out why, but I just don't know. She was just a normal little girl."

Clint ceased his hammering, looking at Bucky as he spoke and then furrowing his brows as he sat back for a moment in thought. "Do you know much of Nat's story?"

Bucky shook his head. "I know she's a spy and used to be KGB. That's about it."

"Well, it's not my story to tell," Clint said, "but I can tell you that she can relate to you probably better than even I can. I know more about her life and what she's done than anyone, and that thing about the kid you just told me reminded me of something they did to her."

"What?" Bucky asked a little desperately, but he couldn't help it - the little girl had been haunting him for so long now, and he craved an explanation.

"Well... look at it from HYDRA's perspective. Here they get this guy who was an American hero, died in the war, best friend of Captain America, basically the last person on Earth who would ever willingly do their work. So they find a way to turn you and fry your brain until you forget your own name. But they have to test that, right?"

Something about the word "test" made Bucky's stomach turn, but he continued to hang on Clint's every word.

"If I had to guess, they picked that girl at random and had you kill her just to test how far you'd go. Make sure they'd taken all the humanity out of you, and that it wouldn't come back if you were sent to kill an innocent."

He wanted to be sick at the thought, because it made it all so much worse somehow, but Bucky thought it made perfect sense. Maybe the girl's parents really hadn't had anything to do with HYDRA, and it all really had been just a test. It made him feel even worse, just the thought that his mere existence had doomed some poor, innocent child to a senseless death for such a senseless reason.

"You ought to talk to Nat some time," Clint said, watching Bucky's expression turn ever darker as he contemplated the horror of it all. "You really do have more in common than you think."

Bucky shook his head a little, not at Clint's suggestion, but at everything in general. "I want to just... forget."

"Forgetting's what got you into that mess in the first place," Clint pointed out. "Just channel all that anger into the mission coming up. Best way to get rid of it." Bucky nodded a bit absently, and after Clint glanced at him for a moment, he said, "But for now - a change of scenery would do you some good."

Bucky was about to insist that he was fine, but then Clint was setting his hammer aside and getting up anyway. Bucky straightened up as well, and then Clint gestured towards the house as he stepped over the half-assembled pin. They weren't far from the house when Clint said, "You know, you've got a pretty good situation going here, all things considered. Really good support. You're lucky. We both are."

Bucky nodded, mostly out of habit, before he almost laughed darkly. "Lucky."

"Yeah. I had Nat to help me get my head back together, and you have Steve. Pretty good girl, too."

Bucky smiled, fleetingly but sincerely. "Yeah."

"Take advantage of that," Clint advised Bucky as he opened the door and both men stepped inside. Before Bucky could reply, he glanced towards the kitchen and was greeted by the sight of Summer giggling with Natasha, a martini glass in one hand and a spatula in the other as she hovered over the stove, and just like Clint had suggested, the change in scenery changed everything. A grin touched his face, suddenly intrigued now what the rest of the night would hold.

When Summer noticed them standing there, she choked a little bit mid-sip and then quickly recovered, smiling brightly as she called out, "Hi! Dinner'll be ready in like fifteen minutes. Natasha's playing bartender."

Natasha grinned, and Clint did the same as he said, "Oh boy. Last time Nat played bartender, a building blew up and I woke up wearing a spiked dog collar."

Summer choked again, and Bucky didn't even try to hide his amusement as she replied, "Let me guess, Budapest?"

Clint scoffed. "Oh, no, that story's way tamer than Budapest."

"What the frick happened in Budapest?" Summer asked a little desperately, looking back and forth between the two spies.

"That's a story for another day," Natasha shrugged before gesturing to the nearly empty glass in Summer's hand. "Ready for another?"

Summer smiled and thrust the glass out for Natasha to take, and she met Bucky's gaze just in time for him to grin and raise a questioning eyebrow. She simply blushed a little and turned back to the pot on the stove, but Bucky suddenly had the feeling that tonight was going to be rather... interesting.

Change of scenery, indeed.

* * *

Of two things, Summer was sure: Natasha was an incredible mixologist, and Bucky was an absolute jerk.

By the time she had actually gotten dinner on the table, she had been tipsy. She had assumed that eating would help diminish her down to a buzz, but then this mysterious glass of wine had kept appearing in front of her and was refilling itself. Except, she soon discovered, Bucky and Natasha were just alternating filling it back up once she'd surpass the halfway point. It was a conspiracy, and it was an utterly successful one, because by the end of the meal, she was full-blown drunk.

And it was _awesome_.

Everything was _hilarious_, and her penchant for saying weird or embarrassing things was elevated to the point of being humiliating, but she didn't mind at the moment, and everyone was so utterly entertained by her that she decided that it was just her duty to go with it and make the most of it.

The problem was the jerk seated to her left, whose apparent mission in life was to make her as red-faced and pleasantly yet maddeningly uncomfortable as possible. Whether it was his hand on her leg - sometimes a little too high and a little too close to something that was _not_ her leg - or a remark so suggestive that it made her choke on her food and avoid eye contact with everyone else at the table, or a few torturous words murmured in her ear when she was least expecting it, Bucky seemed to be absolutely gleeful at her drunken state and was taking advantage of it. Staying seated at the table and not ending up underneath it was taking all of her self control, but even drunk on Natasha's concoctions and Clint's vintage red wine, she managed to rein in her baser impulses.

For then, anyway.

Somehow, she and Bucky ended up as the last two people at the table. She had noticed what seemed like another conspiracy taking place a few moments before, with the others slowly leaving and Steve very purposefully taking David to the living room with the promise of playing video games with him. Natasha had actually winked at Summer as she had followed Steve out, and Summer had merely kept sipping her infinitely-filled wine, wondering what in the world was happening.

Then, once the room was empty apart from herself and Bucky, she had been deep in the midst of contemplating the oddness of it all when suddenly her glass had disappeared from her grip halfway to her lips. "Hey -"

"Sorry," Bucky said, setting the glass down and grinning at her after. "I kind of want you conscious for what we're doing next."

"Pfft, I'm not _that_ drunk, I'm just - wait, what are we doing next?" she asked with big, wide eyes.

Bucky just grinned and took a drink from her glass, then asked, "Depends. What do you want to do?"

She giggled, feeling her cheeks flush for the hundredth time since her second drink. "Uhh... wow, that's... such a hard question."

His grin widened, and then he briefly bit his lip before replying, "I'll ask a better question... where?"

Where, indeed. She only had to think for a minute before she smiled and all but yelled in nearly child-like excitement, "Barn!"

She laughed when he laughed at her enthusiastic answer, and then dutifully obeyed when he said, "Okay, but maybe not so loud... at least until we get there."

She nodded enthusiastically, and then she jumped up from the table and immediately swayed on her feet, but he was quickly up as well and steadying her with his hands on her upper arms. She giggled at her own drunkenness and said, "Oh my God, everything is kinda spinning and it is _great_. I feel great. Too great, by the way, because the whole time we were sitting there eating and you kept freaking whispering and touching me and trying to drive me crazy, I've been so incredibly horribly horny, and -"

"I know," he nodded, "but you're yelling again."

"Crap." Then she burst into giggles again, and as she laughed and laughed some more, he took her by the arm, and before she knew it, she was outside under the clear, cool night sky, being walked in the general direction of the barn. She leaned her head back and looked up at the stars dotting the sky, the half-full moon lighting up the night around them, and she took a deep breath before grabbing Bucky's hands and spinning herself out in front of him as she smiled, "God, I love it here! I kinda don't want to leave. Do you like it here as much as I do?"

"I like it," he shrugged, smiling at her as she looked up again a bit dreamily at the stars, walking backwards.

"It's just so clean and... awesome here, like the air and everything," she gushed. "It makes me want to get my own house again, but with you, and live on my own little chunk of land with some animals and..."

Her eyes widened and she snapped her head down, looking at him in slight panic as she rambled, "Not that I mean, uh, like... I'm not asking you to get a house with me, I just meant -"

"Summer."

"... I miss having my own house sometimes and I wouldn't want to live without you, but I'd understand if you -"

"Summer," he chuckled, pulling on her hands and making her stumble a bit against his chest. "Stop. Breathe."

"Sorry," she smiled, blushing at her own embarrassment. "I know we've been kinda living together for a long time now, but it would be different and I didn't want to freak you out, not that I could do it any time soon because money's tight and -"

Then she was suddenly being kissed, sweetly but also fiercely, and there was something hard behind her back, but she had no idea what it was. She simply kissed him back, the warmth in her veins from the alcohol increasing exponentially with the contact. She wasn't even aware of how she had begun to moan just from the kiss, at least not until he broke away and smiled, "God, Summer..."

"What?" she asked breathlessly, utterly oblivious.

"I like it when you drink," he admitted, and she smiled up at him as the hardness behind her back suddenly gave way. She stumbled back a little but he didn't let her fall, helping to guide her instead with his arm still around her waist. It was then that she looked up and around her again, and then she was smiling and exclaiming with glee again.

"The barrrn!" she slurred a little, springing free of his arms to do a little spin around the middle of the barn as Bucky shut the door behind them and grinned at her antics. "Gah, the memories we made here..."

Thoroughly dizzy from the spinning, she stopped and took a moment before looking at Bucky and giggling again. He was leaning against the door, arms crossed and expression one of sheer amusement and affection, and she loved how she felt in that moment. She felt more courageous, less inhibited, and so utterly happy that she could just skip. And so, that is what she did - she skipped up to him, aware of what kind of effect it would have on a certain bouncy part of her body, and to her satisfaction, that was exactly where his eyes went.

"Soooo, Mister Barnes," she grinned, grabbing the collar of his flannel-print shirt and using it to steady herself, "have I told you lately how much I love the farm boy look on you?"

"Once or twice," he nodded, hands going to her hips.

"Good, because... this," she reached up and ruffled his already-ruffled hair, "and this," she grabbed his collar again, "and these jeans you wear like _ohmyGod_ is just... it's killing me. Hey, can you rip a log in half again?"

"Maybe," he teased, leaning down to kiss her, but she ducked it unexpectedly to bend down and then suddenly spring back up, with a piece of hay in her hand.

"Hang on, I'm trying to complete the look," she said before playfully sticking the little piece in his mouth. He gamely went along with it, and she all but squeaked with glee when he started chewing on it. "Oh man, see, that's perfect... you know what this makes me think of? Like, what it makes my writer brain come up with?"

He raised an eyebrow, still chewing on the hay as he replied, "No, but I definitely want to know."

"Okay, so... imagine this," she said, her hands poorly fumbling with the buttons on his shirt as she spoke, "you're this ridiculously sexy, kinda quiet and maybe a little brooding but also playful farmhand, and I'm the deprived and super frustrated lady of the house." Bucky's lips split into a wide smile and then he laughed, and she did too before going on, "No, no, but listen - so I walk around the farm in my dresses and hats, acting like I'm checking up on your work but really I'm just checking you out and staring at you while you work all sweaty and shirtless and... yeah, because I'm married to this idiot who doesn't know what he's doing and is always gone and is a total idiot douchecanoe."

"Douchecanoe?" he repeated, still grinning and staring at her like she was absolutely the most entertaining thing he'd ever seen in his life.

"Yes," she nodded, finally getting one button open. "So then one day, after weeks and weeks of me watching you and you watching me and little subtle flirting things and comments that could be seen as innocent but we both know really weren't, I can't stop myself anymore, so I come out here where you're working and make sure you see me, then I go to the barn and go inside and you follow me and close the door and then..."

"And then?" he spurred her on, grin still in place but eyes a little more serious than they had been a moment ago.

"And then..." she trailed off, shifting a little bit against him as she got to the third button and then pausing as she grinned up at him and asked, "Oh my gosh - this is getting you _excited_!"

He shrugged without an ounce of shame and said next, "I just want to know what happens next."

"Well..." she sighed, thoughts swirling through her drunken haze before coming together as she grinned, "You pin me to the wall but I tell you that it's wrong, that we shouldn't do it, because - and I totally don't condone cheating, by the way, but it's a made up story so who cares - because of my idiot husband, your boss, but you just hold me tighter and say he doesn't deserve me, and that you're gonna show me everything I've been missing from him. I give in and we kiss and it's freaking amazing because of all the pent-up tension and the angst and how it's so _forbidden_ and _wrong_, but it's also perfect and amazing and you just... take me, right in the middle of the barn, and it's all rough and passionate and you make me absolutely _scream_ -"

His lips suddenly crashed on to hers, interrupting her impromptu story-telling, and she struggled for air against the sudden, though utterly welcome, onslaught. She had no idea he'd like it so much, but the ferocity of his kiss and the even more prominent sign against her hip told her otherwise.

"How do you come up with this stuff?" he asked her when he had finally stopped to take a breath before moving to her neck.

She chuckled and replied, "I'm a writer and I'm drunk and you are _disgustingly_ perfect, that's how." She closed her eyes as he nipped at her neck, then muttered, "I mean, I wrote a 500 word description of you today, because my brother's making me write something every day, and the funny thing is he said he's going to read it next month and -"

"You wrote what?" he asked, raising his head and looking down at her a bit curiously.

"A description of you," she shrugged. "I spent like two hundred words just on your arm. I think I called it... 'elegantly brutal'. But your eyes were the most important one. 'Violently blue, like a break of blue sky in the middle of a raging storm'."

His eyes softened a little bit, and he seemed at a loss for what to say. She just smiled at hm again and wrapped her arms around his neck, then kissed him sweetly. He tightened his arms around her and kissed her back, and from there, the sweetness again became a passionate, mutually blissful struggle.

At least until she snorted and broke into laughter mid-kiss. He opened his eyes and drew back, staring at her in slight confusion as she giggled away. "What?" he asked, panting rather heavily now.

"Because - because," she laughed, trying to stop and breathe but mostly failing, "Because we banged... in a barn... and your last name... is Barnes!"

Then she cracked up all over again, and Bucky just shook his head and grinned at her as she laughed to the point of crying.

"I don't know why it's so funny, but oh my God, it is," she gasped, wiping at her eyes with her fingertips. Just when she caught her breath for a minute, and they both thought that her laughing fit was over, she looked up at Bucky again and then burst out laughing all over again, this time falling out of his arms in the process and spinning away as she cackled.

Bucky just smiled and watched her, and it took her awhile to catch her breath. When she did, she fell backwards on a pile of hay and let out a long sigh, still feeling absolutely amazing. Then she sat up and blew some hair out of her face, focusing her slightly fuzzy vision on Bucky as she chirped, "You know what's on my nerves right now?"

"I... have no idea," he admitted.

"Frozen," she announced. "Well, the stupid songs. They're stuck in my head. Well, one of them. The 'Do you wanna build a snowmannnn' one," she half-sang, dropping back down on the hay with a burdened sigh, like such a fate was truly terrible. Bucky grinned and then started walking to her, and once he was close enough to reach out and touch her, she suddenly sprang up again wide-eyed and exclaimed, "Oh my God! I just had the best idea ever!"

Smiling widely, she reached out and seized his shirt again, and he helped steady her when she dropped down to her wobbly feet. "What's that?" he asked gamely, brushing some of the hair out of her eyes.

She reached down and grabbed his hands, then turned them around and grinned, "I'm gonna serenade you."

"You're gonna..."

"Yup," she said, popping the "p" rather loudly.

"Okay," he chuckled, unsure of what was coming.

"I just have one question first," she said, expression suddenly more serious.

"What?"

Then she burst into another huge grin and began singing - badly. "Do you wanna have more barn seeeeex? Come on, let's go and bang..."

He laughed, genuinely and fully, the smile reaching his eyes and making her melt a little as she danced him around a circle and bounced a little as she went on, "You're standing there like sex on legs, I'm so -" she let go of his hands mimed a waterfall with hers while she made a "woosh" sound, "are you gonna make me waaaait?"

He continued to smile at her antics as she flitted behind him, skipping again and making him his eyes glue themselves to certain rather bouncy _assets_ as she resumed her performance. "Last night we were naked," she sang, skipping to his side and taking his hand again as she grinned up at him, "and now we're not - I wish you would tell me why," she added with a feigned sad expression, walking him backwards a few steps. "Do you wanna have more barn seeex?" she sing-asked, then grinned and pounced on him, making him fall into the hay and her land on top of him as she finished her song by leaning in close and singing softly but with a big silly smile on her face, "I really want to have more barn sex."

"I love you," he replied, lighthearted and smiling in a way she was sure that she hadn't seen from him before, but just as sincere as ever. She smiled and bit her lip, and then he reached into her hair and pulled her down, kissing her for all she was worth, neither of them caring how she had just forever... enhanced a kid's Disney song.

She was barely in control of her own movements as she kissed him, pulling a little on his hair and rocking her hips down against his, unaware of any unusual wantonness on her part. Then she stopped in the middle of it, panting a little as she looked down at Bucky - who was just as flushed as she was - and asked, "Wait, you never answered my question."

"What?" he asked breathlessly, hands stilling from their previous task of grinding her hips harder down against him.

"Do you wanna have more barn sex?" she asked innocently, and for all of two seconds, they stared at each other in silence. Then, Bucky was the first to start laughing, and from there, she was a goner, lost to a brand new fit of giggles.

So far gone she was to the giggles that when she opened her eyes and realized that she was no longer on top of him but on her back, on the hay, she was highly confused. "Hey, when did you - oh my God, my top is off too, and ahh! Okay, shutting up now - oh, frick me, I actually can't - unngh - shut up, gahhh..."

She felt him chuckle at her sheer bewilderment as he looked up from his place at her chest. She opened her eyes and looked down with her double vision long enough to see him grin mercilessly at her and then maintain eye contact as he started licking his way down to her stomach. She moaned at every little touch, not caring in the least how loud she was or how ridiculous she sounded. This was exactly what she had wanted to do the only other time she had been drunk around him, but back then, they had still been controlling their urges. Now, there was only one thing on her alcohol-addled mind, and she decided to give voice to it as she sat up and abruptly pulled him up just when he'd started inching close to his destination.

"Bucky?" she said, working to rid him of his own shirt as he stared at her at first like he was rather annoyed that she had interrupted him.

"What?" he asked, moving her hands away as he all but tore his shirt off.

She watched the shirt hit the floor, and then he pushed her down and was on top of her before she could get a word out. His chest pressed to hers and his mouth latched to her neck, she forgot what she was going to say for a moment. But then she remembered, and when she did, she grabbed his hair and pulled him back up as she said, "I know I'm drunk and all, but I want you to promise me that you're gonna take advantage of me tonight the way you didn't the first time. Like, take _so much_ advantage of me that I can't even walk tomorrow. Please? I need it."

He grinned down at her. "You need it?"

She nodded furiously. "I need it so bad I might die if you try to be all noble or whatever."

He shook his head. "I won't." Then his eyes narrowed by a fraction, becoming just barely more predatory as he asked, "You want me to... take advantage of you?"

"I just mean, like," she slurred a little, gesturing vaguely with her hands, "don't like... do what you did last time, 'cause you know I want it, so there's no point in -"

"Hush."

" ... Because like I said, I... wait, what?"

"Hush," he repeated, a little more forcefully. She stared at his suddenly slightly harder eyes, and then he was up and off of her, standing but bringing her with him with his hand that was gripping a handful of her hair in his hand. He pulled her so that she sat up, and she stared at him in a slack-jawed drunken stupor. At least until he took another step back and gave her hair a gentle, but pointed, tug, and then said, "On your knees."

First, her jaw dropped. Then she smiled, and after that, she clapped her hands over her mouth in her sudden, unhidden, uncontrollable glee, because apparently she had been waiting for him to do something like this for a very long time and she hadn't even realized it.

She dropped down to her knees so fast that it hurt a little, but she didn't feel it, because she was too busy looking up and unknowingly licking her lips as his metal hand went back to her hair and the other started undoing his belt so her unsteady hands didn't have to.

It was official: Clint Barton's barn was her absolute favorite place in the whole world.

* * *

Normally, Summer loved it when she would awake to a bright, sunny new morning. Normally, however, she wasn't hungover, and the combination proved to be quite painful as she cracked her bleary eyes open and then instantly closed them against the sun's intrusive rays through her window.

First, she was confused as to why her head was pounding and her tongue felt like sandpaper in her mouth. But then she rolled over, away from the sunlight, and dragged a hand to her aching head, only to end up pulling away a piece of hay that she then opened her eyes to examine.

That was when it all came rushing back. And, as usual with these sorts of things, she wanted to squeak with delight at how the night had ended, while also dying a slow death thanks to her sheer humiliation.

"I actually sang that stupid Frozen song," she groaned aloud, throwing an arm over her face. "And I turned it into a song about barn sex."

Then again, barn sex did deserve its own special anthem.

Then she shot up in bed far too quickly for her own good, looking first at the other side of the bed and then all around the room, realizing that David was nowhere to be found. She panicked momentarily, thinking the worst and most irrational things possible at a speed that only a deliriously hungover mother could, but then she remembered that she was at a farm occupied by Bucky and a handful of Avengers, none of whom would let anything bad happen to her kid while she was... under the influence. Which she still blamed on Natasha. And Bucky. And the universe.

Now somewhat calm, she glanced over to her nightstand and did a double take when she saw a full water bottle and a handful of pills sitting next to it. She then dived for the items as a wave of gratitude suddenly overcame her, especially since she couldn't yet remember how she even got to bed and clearly was not the one to place such provisions on the table.

From there, getting out of bed and getting dressed and brushing her teeth while getting all of the residual hay out of her hair proved to be a most burdensome and difficult task, but she managed, though she had nearly vomited twice by the time she went stumbling out of her room towards the kitchen. As she mentally swore to never drink again - like she had last time this had happened - she finally got to her destination.

And as she stood in the doorway of the dining room, the aching in her head and highly uneasy stomach took a far backseat to the sight of David, perfectly happy and eating breakfast next to Bucky, who was holding one of his toys and gamely playing with him. It wasn't a particularly odd sight, and not something she hadn't seen before, but something about it made her stop and stare.

"She lives!"

She blinked and looked up to find Clint grinning at her as he tossed a plateful of food on the table, in front of an empty seat next to Bucky. Everyone else looked up then, including Steve and Natasha, and Summer smiled while trying to hide her instant embarrassment.

"Good timing, too," Clint added, gesturing to the plate he'd just set down. "That's yours."

"Oh... okay, thanks," she half-stuttered, still not used to anyone making food for her, ever. She made eye contact with Bucky as she walked to the seat, and he grinned faintly at her while keeping his gaze on he long after she'd looked away.

"How do you feel?" Nat asked, a knowing smirk on her face as she sipped a cup of coffee.

"Like next time you hand me a drink, I should stop at one instead of six," Summer replied, dropping heavily into her seat and trying not to throw up at the sight of the food in front of her. There was nothing wrong with the food itself - on the contrary, she knew Clint could cook - but absolutely nothing in the world could have been appetizing at the moment.

"I did warn you," Natasha pointed out.

"I never listen," Summer agreed, running a hand over her face and praying for the medicine to hurry up and kick in.

A few moments went by then, where she picked at her food with a fork and briefly zoned out as the conversation moved on around her. But, after the first few bites, some of her brain managed to kick back to functioning status, and she looked over to her right, watching David continue to play with Bucky, and she smiled a little as she asked quietly, "How did he end up out here with everyone?"

Bucky turned his gaze back to her as he said quietly, "I was up early and found him trying to find a drink in the fridge. You needed more sleep so I just kept him out here."

"He... actually left the room by himself?" She asked, and Bucky nodded in reply. She couldn't believe it - David hadn't felt secure enough to wander around anywhere on his own since their house had blown up. "Thank you for watching him," she added softly. He nodded, a smile briefly tugging at his lips, but she frowned as she added with a sigh, "I'm really sorry though, because I shouldn't have gotten that drunk and you shouldn't have had to do that."

To her surprise, Bucky chuckled and shook his head. "I was up anyway. I don't mind. And don't apologize because you're _amazing_ when you're drunk."

She cringed a little, cheeks flushing as she kept forcing tiny bites of food down her throat. "Amazingly embarrassing, maybe."

He shook his head again. "Not even close."

She appreciated the sentiment, however little she believed it. Then he gently placed his free hand on her knee, and it suddenly brought with it a very vivid flashback of him telling her to get on her knees the night before, and she almost choked on the glass of orange juice she was working on. She looked at him once more, and by the look in his eye, she had to wonder if he was thinking the same thing that she was. His eyes then dropped to her lips, and she decided that they were definitely on the same wavelength.

It would have been so much hotter if she was still trying not to puke all over herself. And still piecing the entire night together. She'd have to ask him later for the full details, in case she was forgetting anything. Just the thought of listening to him describe it all in his own words was enough to make her blush already.

Soon, however, David finished his food and then sprung up from his chair, tapping Bucky's metal arm to get his attention. Once he had it, he pointed towards the front door, smiling all the while and bouncing a little. Bucky understood that David was asking him to go outside, so he nodded and then turned back to Summer long enough to give her a kiss on the forehead and then smile disarmingly at her one more time. She smiled back, watching in a stupor as her boyfriend got up and disappeared outside with her son, who indeed seemed perfectly content with someone other than Summer, perhaps for the first time.

Her thoughts and the silence in the room was then broken a few moments later by Natasha asking Steve conversationally, "Any plans today, Steve?"

Summer glanced momentarily at Steve as he swallowed a mouthful of food and shrugged, "Nothing special, you?"

"Nothing too exciting," she replied. "But you know what would be great?" Summer looked up again at the two Avengers seated across from her, and Natasha briefly glanced her way with a distinct grin on her lips before playfully singing to Steve, "Do you wanna have more barn seeeeex?"

Steve briefly choked on his food before erupting into red-faced laughter, and Summer's jaw dropped as she suffered the painful sting of imminent humiliation.

"Come on, let's go and baaaang..."

By now Clint was laughing as well, and Steve had laughed himself to the point of having to cough while Summer was just gaping like a particularly shocked fish. "But... how did you.. were you there, like outside?"

"I had to get something out of my car," Natasha explained, "So I had to walk past the barn." She paused and grinned. "And the song was catchy. Creative, too."

Summer groaned and all but slammed her head down on the plate in front of her. "You have got to be kidding me."

"For what it's worth," Natasha added as Summer drowned in her humiliation, "I think it's much better than the original."

Summer merely made an incoherent nose in reply. Not that the night of wild, intense, utterly fun adventures in the barn wasn't worth a little bit of humiliation the following morning, but Summer made a mental vow to never drink and sing Disney songs again.

"Am I the only one who thinks its funny that the guy she keeps defiling my barn with is actually named Barnes?" Clint asked, looking at Nat and then Steve. Natasha chuckled while Steve just sighed and smiled somewhat sympathetically at Summer.

"Barns are fun. Remember?" Natasha asked Clint, and Summer's ears suddenly perked up. She looked at Steve, who looked rather awkward all of a sudden, but Clint just shrugged.

"Yeah, they're okay. Where was that? Germany?"

Natasha shook her head. "Bulgaria."

"Right. Bulgaria," Clint nodded. "Still, nothing tops Budapest."

Summer dropped her hand rather loudly in the table then and exclaimed in a way that she had no hope of controlling, "What the _hell_ happened in Budapest?!"

They still wouldn't say, of course, and Steve seemed rather relieved about that. Silence fell for a bit, during which Summer plotted ways to drag out the story from someone, one way or another, while still fighting the urge to vomit everything she was eating.

Then Natasha spoke a few moments later. "Imagine what she'd say if we told her about Morocco."

Clint choked on his eggs, then started laughing like he hadn't heard anything so hilarious in a long time. Summer just stared, knowing neither of them would elaborate in the slightest (which only Steve was grateful for).

The rest of breakfast went by a lot more slowly than Summer would have preferred, but eventually the conversation moved on to things not involving her and barns, or men with the last name Barnes, giving her a chance to finish eating while mentally getting over the embarrassment of it all. On the bright side, at least David was still too little to catch on to any of this. When that ceased to be the case, she'd have to be more careful, but, she also reasoned, she had a lot of years of idiot drunken youthfulness to make up for. And the previous night had certainly been _well_ worth it.

Once she'd finished eating and had trudged over to the sink to wash her plate, she set course for the stairs and the shower that awaited above them, only to be unexpectedly blocked by Clint once she reached the kitchen doorway. "Not so fast."

She furrowed her eyebrows and paused before asking, "Uh... is something... wrong?"

"No," he shrugged. "It's just your turn."

He then lifted up a bucket in his hand, which had a bottle of bleach spray hanging on the handle along with a couple of rags and a sponge. Then he handed it to her, and she once again wanted to crawl under a rock and die.

"Have fun," Clint grinned before walking off, and Summer slouched her shoulders as she set a new course for the barn, which had seen more bleach in the last month than it had since Clint had built it.

_Still worth it_, she mentally reminded herself, just like the leftover mild aches in her knee and her only slightly better headache and the generally sore state of the rest of her body. That was the funny thing when it came to Bucky, she thought - he tended to make just about anything very much worth it.

Even having to bleach the crap out of Hawkeye's barn and listen to Black Widow tease Captain America with your drunkenly inappropriate songs that you sang to the Winter Soldier right before you banged him in Hawkeye's aforementioned barn.

**A/N: First and foremost, credit for the barn sex lyrics goes to midnightwings96, who I devised this drunken barn scene with and who absolutely killed me with those lyrics :p I quite despise Frozen but I LOVE this version of the snowman song, naturally lol. Fun on the farm indeed, lol :D So, a brief little heads up for next week: in addition to my normal update, I'm going to be posting something of a companion oneshot to the chapter that is ridiculously long (like 22,000 words), so there is going to be a LOT to read next week, and I apologize in advance for the eye straining and prolonged reading time lol. It was not planned at all but one of those things where we were talking and then I was all I NEED IT, and I think you will all like it. It's an AU sort of thing but with our main two characters here, and it will all make sense next week, so stay tuned :D Thank you all for the wonderful reaction to last week's chapter and the reviews. I love you all and continue to be incredibly grateful to have such fricking awesome readers :D See you all next week! :)**


	22. Chapter 22

On the last morning that Summer had left to spend on Clint's farm, she spent it pacing nervously back and forth in the dining room behind the chair that Natasha was sitting at the table in, calmly reading on Summer's laptop. Summer chewed off her nails as she nearly paced holes into the floor, face at a constant state of red, and she was long past regret at this point.

_This is a bad idea. She's gonna hate it. More importantly, _he's_ gonna hate it. Oh God why do I do this to myself..._

_"_Calm down," Natasha said evenly, not taking her eyes off of the screen.

Summer's head shot up and she ceased her pacing. "How did you -"

"You sound like a squirrel running back and forth on a roof," Natasha replied.

Summer groaned and then stepped closer to the table, asking, "Where are you at? Is it horrible? Is it stupid? Or weird? Or -"

"I am at the part where his arm is... 'purring'," Nat said, looking up over her shoulder at Summer. "Does it actually do that?"

"It... well, not to that degree," Summer replied. "But one time his phone vibrated and I thought it was his arm and... yeah."

"I see," Natasha replied, turning back to the computer. "That's a shame."

"Not really... it's still really good at... things." Then Summer cleared her throat and asked, "So is it horrible?"

"If you would let me finish, I would tell you," Natasha pointed out a bit playfully, and Summer groaned again, then resumed her pacing, leaving the spy to resume the favor she was doing for her.

Today, everybody minus Clint was leaving the farm and heading back to Stark Tower, which was now fully repaired and, according to Tony, even improved. Today also happened to be what Summer considered to be an even more important day - Bucky's birthday, which she had not even known was coming up until Steve had mentioned it to her a week earlier. As soon as she had learned that it was coming so soon, she had descended into a panic over what in the world to get for him, despite the fact that Bucky himself seemed horrified at the thought of anyone doing _anything_ for his birthday.

She had gone back and forth for two days, asking Steve and anyone else who would listen for help, but it turned out that she just happened to be in a relationship with a man who really was possibly the hardest man in the world to shop for. She had almost given up when she began bemoaning her lack of expertise in gift giving and lack of skill in just about anything but writing, and that thought, however exaggerated, had led to her suddenly having an idea. She could _write_ him something.

And since he had once had a rather enthusiastic response to a certain _kind_ of story that he had once read by her... then she could write one especially for him this time.

And so, that was exactly what she did. Over 25,000 written words later, now she was here, taking Natasha up on her offer to read over the story and be a sounding board. Though Summer was confident in her writing abilities, more confident than she was in just about every other area of life, there was something distinctly nerve wracking about waiting while someone else read over something that you wrote. Especially when that said "something" was a rather long story based on alternate versions of yourself and your boyfriend which contained a _very_ sizable scene of an... intimate nature.

And she had not held back, either. Since it was something that was just for him and him alone, she had decided to truly give it her best go, and expand upon the fantasy scenario that she had drunkenly regaled Bucky with during their last adventure in the barn - the two of them in some kind of alternate reality where he was a farmhand and she a deprived and lonely farmer's wife. Given how he had reacted to the idea, she could think of no better scenario to write, nor one better suited to the sort of... things she wanted to write within it.

It all sounded so easy in theory, and writing the actual story actually had been easy as well. It was this that wasn't - the _reading_ of it.

What felt like an eternity later, Summer heard Natasha draw a breath and say, "Okay... finished."

She almost tripped over her feet rushing to the table and scrambling into a chair, eyes wide and arguably crazed as she asked, "Oh God, was it okay? Please be honest if it was terrible because if it is I definitely need to know and -"

"It was not terrible," Natasha cut her off. "It was the opposite of terrible. It was actually very good. So stop trying to have a nervous breakdown and actually listen."

Summer breathed an immense sigh of relief, her shoulders sagging slightly with the weight that Natasha had just lifted from them.

"First of all, I'm impressed. You're a good writer. You should be doing this," Nat gestured to the laptop, "instead of picking up Pepper's dry cleaning. But since I'm sure you're already aware of that... I'm also impressed by how well you wrote the... fun parts."

"It wasn't horrible and didn't make you cringe?" Summer asked, eyes widening again.

"No," Nat shook her head, "and coming from a girl who can barely call body parts by their proper names when we talk about sex, I was pleasantly surprised."

Summer smiled uneasily and said, "Yeah, well, talking and writing are... different."

"Clearly," Natasha smiled. "I think the challenge with these kinds of stories is keeping it tasteful without skimping on details, and you did that pretty well. And the actual story itself is good too. Really well-paced build-up."

Summer might just hug the crap out of Natasha when this was over. "Was there anything you think I should change?"

"Well," Natasha said, scrolling back up on the story, "there was one part... oh, it was this. You don't _have_ to change this, but when you - I mean _she_ \- is on top and then he flips her over and you say he starts 'growling filthy things in her ear' - maybe you should write the actual things instead of just that."

"Yeah, good point..."

"Because since this is for his benefit and the point is to drive him crazy," Natasha grinned, "you might want to add all the details that you can."

"Right..." Summer nodded, her brain already racing with what to add to that particular line.

"Also, I was confused by one part - when she's on his lap and his arm is vibrating, is it still vibrating a minute later when he's on top of her or did it stop?"

"Do I even want to know?"

As Clint walked into the room and eyed the two women suspiciously, Summer jumped at the sudden intrusion and slammed the laptop shut, for no apparent reason. Both Clint and Natasha looked at her like she had just sprouted seven heads, and Summer muttered, "... I don't know why I just did that."

Looking from Summer to Clint, Natasha said, "No, you probably don't want to know."

"Fair enough," he said, heading towards the front door.

Once they had their privacy back, Summer looked at her still-closed laptop and sighed, "I'm doomed. Just say it."

"Well, it _is_ impressive how shamelessly you can write all of this and then be this embarrassed about it," Natasha chuckled.

"It's... part of my charm?" Summer shrugged.

"You should just own it. How many girls can do something like this for their boyfriends? He's going to be beside himself."

"You think so?" Summer asked hopefully.

"Obviously. And you'll find out that I'm right soon enough," Natasha smirked.

Summer cringed and smiled at the same time, already feeling frazzled beyond belief, and it wasn't even nine in the morning yet. They still had to get to the tower and get settled back in there, and then she had to get Bucky's cake made because buying one was just not an option, and he had to be distracted while she took care of that and the decorations so that he didn't have a chance to protest. Then, after she had all of that taken care of not to mention _dinner_, it would finally be time to give Bucky her gift. She was exhausted just thinking about it all, which was undoubtedly one of the reasons why Bucky had insisted on her not doing anything for his birthday.

But how often did girls in their mid-20s get to help their cryogenically preserved boyfriends celebrate their 99th birthday? She'd rest when she was dead.

"All right, well... thank you _so_ much for doing this for me," Summer told Natasha sincerely. "Like I am not sure if I would have had the courage to give this to him at all if you hadn't agreed to read it first. So I owe you."

Natasha shrugged her off and replied, "It's no big deal. And I enjoyed reading it. It's actually been awhile since I've read anything that good. You should continue it, too. You kind of left them at a very... unresolved place."

"... You think I should add to it?" Summer asked in surprise. "Really?"

"Yeah. I would read more. You could even think about changing certain things, like the arm, and turning it into a full book."

Summer thought she might go into cardiac arrest at any moment after hearing _that_. "Holy crap. Really?!"

"Yes," Natasha said, blinking slowly, probably about to get sick of constantly reassuring the other girl. "But worry about that later. You've got enough to deal with today."

"Right," Summer nodded. "Right. Okay. I can do this." Then she paused, staring into space for a moment, and asked, "Can I do this?"

"Oh boy," Natasha sighed, leaning back in her seat.

"I can do this," Summer decided, grabbing her laptop and then standing up from the table. "Thanks again. You're my hero."

She then dashed off, missing the amused but warm expression on Natasha's face. She raced up the stairs towards her room, clutching the computer to her chest, and when she hit the hallway and almost collided into a half-asleep and messy haired Bucky who had just wandered out of his room, she squeaked in surprise and then smiled and exclaimed, "Happy birthday!"

She then flung herself at him, computer and all, and hugged him as tightly as she could manage in that moment. Having been unprepared for the assault, he stumbled back a step or two, and then slowly raised his arms to return the hug, all while he remained rather bewildered looking even when she pulled away, smiling brightly at him.

"What?"

She rolled her eyes and repeated, "Happy birthday."

"... Oh. Right," he muttered, running a hand in his hair and looking quite unimpressed with the day, which is what she had expected.

"You're officially ninety nine," she smiled. "And yet incredibly hot and young still."

He gave her a vague look, like he found her amusing but he was still too out of it to really grasp anything, so she just leaned up and gave him a quick kiss before walking backwards towards her door. "We head back to the tower at ten, but most of our stuff has already been sent over, so that's out of the way, but," she fiddled with the computer, "I, uh, I need to work on something really quick in my room and then I'm gonna get David up and then we can go." Then she opened the door, slipped inside, and smiled brightly, "Okay, bye."

Bucky watched the door slam shut, squinting in confusion for a moment before raising his eyebrows briefly and then heading for the stairs, deciding to try to figure out after coffee why she had been holding the computer like her life depended on it and why she was even more jumpy than usual.

Meanwhile, inside her room, Summer sighed and sat down on the bed, flipping open the laptop and committing her brain to more pressing matters, like what sort of specific "filthy things" Bucky's farmhand counterpart would growl in the utmost heat of passion.

* * *

"You guys take care," Clint said, seeing off the last of his leaving guests as they loaded up the last of their belongings in a borrowed car. Bucky nodded, and Clint added, "How does this work for you, anyway? Living in a tower full of people when the FBI are probably trying their best to get their hands on you?"

Bucky shrugged, briefly glancing back at Summer as she threw her purse into the front seat of the car, then replying, "I think Steve has something to do with the fact that nobody's gotten to me yet."

"Convenient," Clint remarked.

Bucky nodded vaguely, then paused briefly before saying, "Thank you for... letting us stay here." When Clint nodded and shrugged him off, Bucky added, "She liked it here a lot."

"I noticed. Well," Clint's darted to Summer as she struggled to get David into the car despite his opposition to such an idea, "you're welcome to come back sometime. As long as you agree to leave my barn alone."

Bucky couldn't help his automatic slight grin at that. "We could manage that."

"Sure you could," Clint scoffed lightly. "You going on that mission in a couple days?"

Bucky nodded. "Yeah."

"Good luck," Clint replied, with no sarcasm, only sincerity. "It's not easy getting back into it."

"Nothing is," Bucky said with a fleeting, humorless smile.

"You get used to it."

With David now successfully loaded into the car, Summer jogged up to the two men and smiled as she said somewhat breathlessly, "We need to get going."

Bucky nodded, starting to turn away before Summer turned to Clint and said, "I have absolutely _loved_ being here. It reminded me of home. So thank you."

Clint smiled warmly at her and nodded. "You can come over when you're in the neighborhood, as long as you make those cookies again."

"The cinnamon chip ones," she guessed, and Clint nodded his confirmation as she laughed. She had never seen a grown man be so enthusiastic about a batch of cookies, and ones that had been experimental at that. "Just as long as I can just... sniff your collection of exotic spices." Clint started to laugh at that, and then Summer clutched Bucky's hand and said as she looked up at him, "We _really_ need to go, though."

Bucky nodded and so did Clint, who instantly told them to take care one more time before sliding down sunglasses from the top of his head down over his eyes and then heading back towards his house. Bucky then let Summer drag him towards the car, apparently in a real hurry, and he raised an eyebrow as he asked suspiciously, "What's got you in such a rush?"

"Nothing," she said, letting go of his hand and flitting over to the driver's side door.

He didn't say anything, opting instead to give her a look that told her he didn't believe her before they both slid into the car and shut the doors. Then he turned to her and gave her a knowing look that she caught as she clicked her seatbelt into place. "What?" she asked with a smile that was far too nervous to be normal.

He continued to give her a sidelong look, but he shook his head. "Nothing."

He then put on his seatbelt and began wondering what the heck'd had her so jumpy all day. Figuring it had to be related somehow to his birthday but not really seeing what it could be, he drifted off in thought only to be interrupted moments later by Summer's frustrated noises as she tried to get the car to go, but it wouldn't budge.

He watched her hit the gas multiple times, then check all the controls and displays, and then start huffing when the car still wouldn't back up, but it only took him about half a second's worth of investigation before he determined the culprit to be the gear, which was in neutral and not reverse. He reached and shifted the gear, and then as the car finally started to back up, Summer immediately cursed her idiocy out loud, only to slap her hand over her mouth and exclaim, "Sorry, David! I said... 'duck me'!"

Though that one made him grin, Bucky couldn't help but ask a moment later, "What's going on with you today?"

"Nothing," she insisted, though her shifty eyes and instant flush, not to mention higher pitch of her voice, was a dead giveaway of her dishonesty. "Just, uh... tired."

Once again, he let it go despite the fact that he knew that she was lying, figuring that he would know what it was by the end of the night anyway. It still made him nervous, though, but he didn't exactly get the feeling that whatever it was would be unpleasant. In fact, when she acted like this, it was usually _always_ worked out in his favor.

He came no closer to figuring anything out on the ride back to the tower, but the faint blush that seemed to pop up on her face every time she so much as looked at him made him start to seriously look forward to whatever she had cooked up.

* * *

Being the last ones to have gotten there, Summer was in even more of a hurry after she parked in the super-secret underground entrance of the tower, then jumped in the elevator with their belongings in tow. She raced over everything she still had to do in her head, hoping that Steve had gotten everything she had asked him to get and that the kitchen was clean and ready for her get to work in. She chewed her lip as the elevator took them up, staring at the door lost in thought.

"Welcome back to Stark Tower."

She didn't jump, but David and Bucky both did. She blinked and then chuckled, ruffling David's hair as Bucky mumbled, "Damn talking walls..."

"Careful there," she said playfully, "you don't want to start sounding your age. And hi, JARVIS."

"Good afternoon, Miss McAdams. Your rooms are ready and most of your belongings have already been moved into them."

"Awesome," Summer chirped, though unbeknownst to her, her foot was tapping the floor impatiently as they inched closer to their renovated floor. Bucky noticed, watching her foot but not saying a word.

Then the elevator came to a halt and the doors opened, and Summer stepped out first, wondering just how "new and improved" everything really was. The first change was that, instead of walking out directly into the giant living area, they now found themselves staring at a pair of doors with a rather intimidating-looking security system smack dab in the middle of them.

"Uhh..."

Then, making her suddenly jump, a little red laser-looking thing shot out from the pad to her right eye, and though she initially panicked, she soon realized what it was for when her Stark Industries security badge popped up on the display, and then the doors unlocked and opened.

"Well... that's new," she said, glancing back towards Bucky before walking through the doors to find out what else was new.

At first glance, everything was pretty much the same - same glittering, luxurious kitchen area, huge living area that Steve and Natasha were currently in, and enormous windows all around that showed off the best of the Manhattan skyline. It couldn't have been starker, how very much over the "time-out" on Clint's farm was. It was back to reality now, back to the bustling city and back to work, and she would be lying if she said that it didn't fill her with an instant sense of sadness.

David, however, was _not_ on the same wavelength. He dropped his backpack at Summer's feet and then ran off towards the living area with its giant television screen and sparkling array of video game consoles. Summer sighed and smiled, reaching down to pick up the backpack as she said, "Well, at least one of us is _that_ happy to be back."

She glanced behind her to find Bucky staring towards one of the windows, and she asked him quietly, "How about you?"

He looked at her and then shrugged quickly. "It's all right."

She nodded, thinking that he was already missing the farm as much as she was.

Then there was an unbearably loud crashing noise from towards the elevator beyond the doors, and Summer's heart dropped as her brain instantly flashed back to the attack that had occurred the last time she had been inside this tower. Before she had time to even blink, Bucky had grabbed her and shielded her with his body - it really had been that loud and ominous sounding - only for them both to relax slightly a moment later when they heard the faint sounds of Tony griping as the doors opened.

"... It's called a bee, Thor. It's not the end of the world. Don't you guys have a word for that? Rag-a... Rag...u... Ragu sauce? Or is it Hoobastank? I can never remember."

"The beast tried to attack me!"

"That's no reason to destroy my tower that I _just_ rebuilt. Your hammer is not a fly swatter."

Summer rolled her eyes and took a deep breath, smiling at Bucky and shaking her head as he released his death grip on her. By the time Tony and Thor had strolled in, Thor rubbing his neck in the wake of said bee attack, Summer's heart rate had fallen back into normal ranges. Tony stretched his arms out, doing a head count of those in the room as he said, "Looks like the gang's all back. Or wait... no, we're missing Captain Falcon."

"He's in his room," Steve said, with a slight clear of his throat.

"Still sleeping? At this hour?"

"Not exactly," Natasha replied, clearly hinting at something.

"... Wait." Tony stopped and looked around, wheels in his head spinning as he said, "If he's not alone in there, who is in there with him and how did they get in?"

"She's on your clearance list," Natasha replied, but Tony continued to stare in confusion.

As intriguing as figuring out what, or _whom, _waskeeping Sam in his room, Summer had serious business to get down to, so as soon as Steve glanced her way, she shifted so that Bucky couldn't see her mouth the words "detain him!". Steve subtly nodded, and then a moment later, he got up and strolled over towards where she and Bucky stood, then cheerfully suggested, "Hey Bucky, want to come see the new upgrades down in the gym?"

Bucky seemed ambivalent and leaning towards saying no, at least until Natasha got up and added, "I'll tag along. Actually, I've been thinking - now that we've got the room again, I'm curious about an old bet that we never got around to settling."

"What's that?" Steve asked, genuinely not remembering.

"Whether or not I can take on the both of you and win," Natasha replied.

Summer nearly breathed a sigh of relief - now she _knew_ that she was home free. Indeed, Bucky's demeanor changed, and with the challenge issued, Tony announced, "I call front row."

When everybody began to head towards the elevator - including Thor, who gave Summer a brief but charming greeting first, making her squee inside - Summer gave some excuse about staying up there and getting herself and David settled in, but in reality, she just stood there and waited until the doors closed, and then she all but ran into the kitchen and started raiding the cabinets.

She had given Steve a written list of needed ingredients earlier that day and had asked him to put them all in one specific place so that assembling them all would be easy, and to her relief, she found everything that she had requested waiting for her in one of the cabinets. She pulled everything out and got everything set up on the counter, turned on the oven, and then got on her phone to pull up the required recipe, all while mentally rushing herself to get it done as quickly as possible.

She was knee-deep in cake batter by the time she heard an unfamiliar voice come wafting from the hallway, and she looked up to see a girl wearing an oversized shirt with Sam's old unit info on it come wandering into the kitchen.

She looked familiar, and as the girl stopped and they both tried to figure out where they had seen each other before, Summer said, "Uh... hi?"

"Hi. I've met you before, haven't I?"

"I think so," Summer replied, setting down the long white spoon that she was stirring the batter with and then remembering, "Oh! The party!"

"Oh, right!" she nodded. "You were that chick in the black dress had the -"

"Yeah and you had the blue dress with the -"

"Boobs," they both said in unison, and Summer snorted with laughter.

"It's sad that I remember you by that but not your name," Summer said. "This must be what it's like to be a dude."

"Well," Darcy said as she went to the fridge and opened it, "you're probably not used to being out-boobed even at a Tony Stark party, so it's understandable. And my name is Darcy."

"Summer," she nodded back, "and I'm pretty sure we're tied there."

"Maybe," Darcy conceded, bottle of water in hand as she shut the fridge door. "So you date the Winter Soldier dude."

"... And you date Sam now?" Summer guessed, gesturing to the shirt she wore. "I've missed a lot being away from here, apparently."

"I met him at the party, actually," Darcy nodded, "right after I accidentally hit on your boyfriend."

Summer ceased her stirring and then half-grinned at Darcy. "Really?"

"It was completely embarrassing. Then I asked Steve if they were a couple. I have this tendency to not know when to shut up."

"I know the feeling," Summer replied, grabbing the three round cake pans she'd gotten ready and pouring the batter into the first one.

"Wait, are you making a cake? Because I've heard about your cake from Thor."

Summer's eyes widened and they shot to Darcy as she smiled excitedly. "Seriously? Thor tells people about my cake?"

"Oh yeah. See, he used to think that Pop Tarts were awesome, but then here on his second extended Earth vacation, he's had a lot more to sample, and he goes on and on about the 'Lady Summer's cake'."

Smiling idiotically, Summer replied, "That... just... made my day, for like the next million days." Then as she filled up the other cake pans, she asked, "So your friend dates Thor, right?"

"Yeah, but I actually think they're on the outs," Darcy said, hopping up on the counter. "Which really sucks because she's been pining after him for like two years, but he took her to Asgard when she accidentally absorbed this evil magic red Kool-Aid, and nothing's really been the same since then. I think it finally just dawned on them both that he's like a million years old and she'll make it to 80 if she's lucky."

Summer frowned and started putting the cakes in the oven. "Yeah, that's... well, crappy. She went to Asgard though?"

"Yup. Met Odin and Loki and everything."

Suddenly freezing, Summer slowly turned back towards Darcy and repeated, "Jane... met... Loki."

"Yup. And punched him in the face. She said he liked it."

Summer blinked, then shook her head as if to shake something off, and then said, "... I don't even know what to do with that information."

"I know, right? Guy's like - well, _was_ like - the very definition of crazy hot. Which... I'm guessing is the kind of thing you're into."

"Bucky isn't crazy," Summer quickly clarified. "He's... troubled. But he's gotten a lot better since I found him."

"Found him?"

"He kind of... passed out half-dead in front of my old house. That's how we... met."

"See, I would judge you, but after you've been chased through the streets of London by alien elves who look like Teletubbies on meth, it tends to sort of... change your worldview a little bit."

"I had my house blown up by neo-Nazis," Summer shrugged. "I kind of bypassed normal a long time ago. Normal is now this," she gestured to the tower in general.

"This isn't so bad," Darcy agreed. "You're surrounded by superheroes who are basically all super hot and living in their superhero lair."

"... Yeah. Are you staying here now, too?"

"Nah, I transferred to NYU and I've got an apartment next to campus," she said. "But I'll probably try to come over and bum food as much as possible."

"Just coming for food?" Summer grinned, throwing her used stuff into the sink.

"And other stuff," Darcy conceded. "So, what kind of cake are you making?"

"It's for Bucky's birthday, which is today, and it's basically a three-layer double chocolate cake, and I'm gonna make whiskey-caramel sauce to go over it."

"Dude. No wonder Thor talks about your cake. I think my pancreas just stopped working _hearing_ that."

Summer smiled and shrugged cheerfully, and then both of them glanced towards the hallway when they heard Sam coming, calling out, "How long does it take to grab a drink of water?"

"Impatient," Darcy chided as he came into view, pausing at the entrance to the kitchen area. "I was having unexpected girl talk."

"Mmhmm," Sam said. Then he looked at the flour and sugar still sitting out on the counter, and then he asked seriously, "Whoa - are you making a cake?"

"I should just open a bakery," Summer grinned. "Bucky's birthday, remember?"

"Oh yeah," Sam replied. "I would have gotten him something but I'm still broke from buying a new car to replace the one he destroyed."

"Right," Summer nodded. "Well, understandable. He'll live."

"Good. Now if you'll excuse me," Sam said politely before picking up Darcy from the counter and flinging her over his shoulder as she yelped with laughter. He then carried her off caveman style back to his room, and Summer laughed as Darcy called out a "catch you later" before disappearing into the hallway.

Now alone again, Summer looked at the oven and went over her mental list of things to do, figuring she would save the caramel sauce for the last minute since it would only take five minutes to make, and then she suddenly jolted up straight and half-exclaimed, "Decorations!"

Swearing off any further distractions, she put herself back to work, determined to make the first real birthday that Bucky'd had in over seventy years one that was at least half of what he deserved, and that meant balloons, a banner, and a host of other cheesy components that she could planned on reusing once David's impending birthday arrived.

She just hoped that Bucky would like it all.

And the _other thing_.

* * *

Awhile later, down in the gym, exactly nobody was surprised when Steve and Bucky ended up sprawled on the floor, faces pained and pride hurt more than their actual bodies, though those hurt pretty badly too. Natasha straightened out her clothes as she stood over them, turning around and glancing at their audience as she said, "So who wins the bet?"

"We both bet on you," Tony replied, sitting next to Thor on the edge of a treadmill. "So it's kind of a draw."

Suppressing a mild groan, Bucky turned his head towards Steve and muttered, "You didn't even try. What the hell."

"I... tried to try," Steve said weakly. "Don't look at me like that. I don't like hitting girls even when they're trying to kill me, let alone when they're Natasha."

Bucky rolled his eyes and then sat up, aware that in all honesty, he hadn't been fully trying either. Natasha knew them both too well and knew how to work their natures to her advantage, making her physical inferiority just about irrelevant, and there was probably never a hope of this turning out any differently.

"Maybe one day," Natasha said as she turned to walk away, "you boys will actually try and make it a challenge."

Now thoroughly annoyed, Bucky's head shot up and he kicked his foot out, swiping at her ankles and knocking her off of her feet. Steve protested with a "Hey!", but Natasha didn't fall, doing a twist in midair and landing on her feet, more like a cat than a spider. Bucky rolled his eyes as she smirked at him and then said, "My point stands."

Now sitting up, Bucky scowled at her and then once again glared slightly accusatorially at Steve, who asked innocently, "What?"

"All these years later and you still let girls beat you up," Bucky said, standing up from the floor.

"She's not exactly your average girl," Steve pointed out, hand rubbing at a growing knot on the back of his head. "Hey, where are you going?"

Heading for the elevator, Bucky muttered, "Back up."

Steve looked at Natasha with a look that screamed "_help me_", and she stared at him for a moment before thinking on her feet and calling towards Bucky, "Fine. You and me, one on one, without Steve there for me to use against you."

Bucky stopped and then slowly turned around, now _convinced_ that they were detaining him on purpose.

On the one hand, he truly did not want to have any sort of fuss made about his birthday. Everything about the idea made him want to use any excuse possible to avoid it, but then on the other hand... Summer was obviously planning something, and everybody was in on it, and as much as he didn't want it... he simply didn't have the heart to let on that he had figured it out or that he'd rather just spend the night like he spent every other night.

"You sure?" Bucky asked Natasha.

"As long as you actually _try_ this time," she challenged.

Silently accepting this proposal, Bucky started heading back towards the open area of the gym that was unofficial sparring section, and while Steve visibly sighed with relief, Tony got comfortable once again and said, "And here I _just_ ran out of popcorn."

* * *

Once everything was _finally_ done, including even a quick dinner that she had thrown together while the cakes cooled done, Summer and David both collapsed into heaps on the couch. He had decided to help her once balloons had come into the equation, and now that the room looked vaguely like a birthday clown had blown in and puked all over everything. But, the cake was ready and sitting in the middle of the table, and all of the decorations were up, and dinner was simmering on the stovetop.

"High five," Summer said, eyes closed as her hand came up. David smacked his palm against hers, and Summer let out a deep breath, only to have it interrupting by her phone buzzing.

It was a message from Steve. _Return imminent. Detention failed. _

"Crap crap crap crap," she muttered, jumping up from the couch and then running like a crazy person throughout the room, turning off lights and making sure one more time that everything was perfect. By the time she heard the doors start to open, she rushed to them, and on a rare stroke of good luck, Bucky was the first one to step in.

"Why is it so dark in-"

"Hi!" she exclaimed, putting her hands over his eyes as he froze at the unexpected contact. She looked behind him to the others, looked at Steve and mouthed "Candle!", then turned around so that she was behind Bucky with her hands still clamped over his eyes. Steve hurried to the table, and Natasha and Thor followed behind Summer looking highly amused. Tony, understandably, wasn't overly interested in the whole event, so he had gone his own way after the group had left the gym.

"What are you doing?" Bucky asked, amusement evident in his tone.

"Something," she teased. "Now walk straight and don't try to peek between my fingers."

He did as she said, and as she walked him closer to the table, Steve lit the lone candle in the cake while Sam and Darcy emerged from the hallway at just the right time. Once the candle was burning, helping the dusk filtering through the windows illuminate it and the decorations hanging above the table, Summer walked Bucky the rest of the way to a chair at the middle of the table that Steve pulled out, and biting her lip and hoping for the best, Summer said, "Okay... surprise," and then let her hands fall away.

She watched nervously as his eyes first fell on the cake - and the big, unashamedly red, white and blue candle she had put there, because ninety nine individual candles was ridiculous and just doing the numbers seemed weird - and then he looked up at the birthday banner, then the variously colored balloons hanging all around the table, and slowly, he turned to look at Summer.

He looked shocked, or maybe just surprised, but if she had been afraid that he would hate it all or think it was stupid, her fears were quickly put at ease.

He opened his mouth to say something but couldn't seem to get any words out, so Summer simply smiled and pulled him to the chair, "We've gotta hurry up and sing before the cake gets gross and waxy."

He continued to stare at her in disbelief, at least until everyone gathered around the table. She watched him look at Steve and then David, who now hanging on to her side and smiling at the general excitement of participating in someone else's birthday, which was somewhat new for him. Then he looked, one by one, at everyone else - those who knew hm better than anyone else in the world, past or present (Steve), those who knew him better than he was willing to admit (Natasha), those who were slowly getting to know him better and thought that he was pretty all right overall (Thor &amp; Sam), and those who barely knew him at all but still wasn't afraid of him (Darcy), and Summer realized that this was one of the best decisions that she had made in a long time.

There was nothing quite like truly realizing for the first time that you weren't alone, and that you had people around you who truly cared about you - she knew how powerful such a thing could be, when you had little no family left to speak of. And as they all started singing happy birthday to Bucky as he remained sitting there, stunned, for the first time that day, Summer wasn't nervous at all.

She was just happy, incredibly so, and even happier once she saw a tiny but very real smile start to form on Bucky's lips.

* * *

Whatever he had been expecting, it wasn't this. A cake, maybe, or _something_, but not this, and certainly not all of these people standing around and actually singing to him, like they were here because they genuinely cared.

And now, sitting there and feeling not uncomfortable at all but damn near overwhelmed instead, he listened to the song near its end (Thor doing his best to follow the others in a song that he was surely not familiar with but smiling broadly all along, and David smiling but staying silent as usual). Then he looked at the big candle, the flame flickering and dancing, and something flashed behind his eyes - a picture at first, but then more, and suddenly he could remember a scene just like this one.

_The table, the walls, even the cake sitting before him was shabby, small, and humble, but he didn't notice and didn't care as he felt himself smiling excitedly at the eight candles that he was about to blow out. He waited impatiently for everybody to get the song over with already, looking to his left and sharing a grin with the skinny little blonde-headed boy sitting next to him. Then he looked up to his right, where his father sat and his mother stood, both of them smiling and his mother holding a little toddler-sized girl on her hip. She had short brown pigtails and big blue eyes that were fixed on him as she gnawed on her little fist. He made a silly face at her, sticking his tongue out, and she laughed a loud, sweet baby's laugh, just as the song ended. _

_Laughing with his sister, his mother softly urged, "Go on, blow out the candle and make a wish."_

"Blow it out and make a wish!"

Blinking his way back to the present, Bucky looked up at the woman on his left, who had said those words, and then he looked to his right and saw the same person that had been there in the memory, only now a lot less tiny and skinny. He was dazed and slightly overjoyed for having _finally_ remembered his sister, and his mind clung to that image of her and the sound of her little laugh as he refocused on the candle.

He blew it out, but he didn't make a wish. He already had more than he deserved and would dare ask for, and this moment was the perfect expression of that, as far as he could see.

Afterwards, he looked back up at Summer as she clapped happily and then, seemingly unable to help herself, gave him a hug.

"I was so nervous, I thought you'd hate it all or think it was weird," she said in a quiet rush near his ear before she pulled away with a smile. "You don't hate it, do you?"

"No," he shook his head. "Not at all."

She smiled brightly, then visibly shifted back into action mode while Steve patted his shoulder. Summer went around the room, turning all the lights back on, and as his eyes adjusted, he sat back in the seat and then heard her chirp, "Cake first or presents?"

"Can we do both?" Sam asked.

"Yes, both would be preferable," Thor said.

"Okay," Summer said, going to the kitchen to fetch plates and a knife, while Bucky felt Steve's hand on his shoulder again.

"Is this all okay?"

Bucky nodded, finding it humorous that both he and Summer had felt the need to each check this with him. "Yeah. It's... nice."

Steve smiled, and whatever he might have said next was interrupted upon Thor's approach. Smiling broadly, he said, "My wishes for a most happy birthday! I did not know it was coming, otherwise I would have found you some sort of gift."

"It's fine," Bucky shrugged, having barely expected gifts from anyone at all, because he simply hadn't thought about it.

"Well, instead, I will tell you the same thing that I told your lady recently - when an opportunity arises for me to invite a number of Midgardians to visit Asgard, you are most welcome to come as well."

A little stunned because that was also something he had never thought of, Bucky faltered for a moment before replying, "Uh... okay. Thanks." Then he furrowed his brow. "How exactly would I go there?"

"The Bifrost," Thor replied cheerily. When Bucky just stared, Thor clarified, "The Rainbow Bridge." When he still got nothing but a confused look, Thor waved a hand and said, "I will show you one day."

Then Summer came back, and she plopped a plate down in front of Bucky as she brandished a knife and said, "Okay, you get the biggest piece, obviously..."

"Is that... caramel?" Bucky asked as she started to cut the cake. She was also bending over slightly and rather close to him, and he might have subtly stolen a glance down her shirt.

"Remember that time I made whiskey-caramel sauce and put it on ice cream?" she asked, and he nodded. "Well this is the same thing, but with Tony's $500 whiskey. And I figured what better to put it on than a double chocolate cake?"

Then she carefully moved the first piece to his plate, sucking off little bit of the sauce that had gotten on her thumb in the process, and he grinned at her as he replied, "I can think of something. Or someone."

She smiled and pointed at him, her blush instant, and she said, "Calm down."

His grin widened and he reached out and grabbed her hand before she could turn away, pulling her closer and giving her a short, sweet kiss before saying sincerely, "Thank you."

"Hey, you haven't even gotten your present form me yet," she smiled.

"You didn't have to get me anything..."

"I didn't. I kind of... made you something. But you can't have it until later. After David's asleep. And we're alone."

He raised an eyebrow, suddenly _very_ intrigued. "... Really?" he grinned.

Her face flaring up again, she nodded and then smiled nervously, "Yeah, so... just... later."

Nodding, he let go of her hand, wondering what in the world it could be. He watched her continue to cut the cake as he thought through various possibilities, none of which came close to what it really was, but it distracted him while he took his first bite of the cake. He chewed once and then stopped, expression turning utterly serious for a moment, and Summer immediately noticed this.

"What? Is something wrong?"

He shook his head and then swallowed. "No. This is the..." he almost said _the best,_ but then he quickly realized it wasn't true, and then continued, "_second_ best thing I've ever tasted."

She smiled gleefully, then cocked her head in curiosity and asked, "... What's the first?"

His gaze flickered to David, who was sitting close by and impatiently waiting for his own piece of cake, and he replied, "I don't think I can say right now."

Her face erupted in yet another blush, and as she smacked her palm over her face to hide it, Darcy called out from behind them, "I heard that. This place is freaking awesome. I should totally move here."

Bucky went back to eating while Summer just glanced at the woman and sighed, filling up the other plates with pieces of cake. After he was mostly done, he saw Steve come walking back towards the table from the direction of the hallway, toting a medium-sized box as Natasha walked beside him.

"Didn't have time to wrap this," Steve said as he got to the table. He set it down on top of it, in front of Bucky, and then took a seat beside him as Natasha stood beside him. "But I didn't think you would mind much."

"Consider this from both of us," Natasha added. "Without me, Steve may not have ever known where to find this."

Looking from her to Steve and then the box, Bucky straightened up a little and then reached out and pulled the box closer. While everyone else was talking, eating, or otherwise engaged, Summer sat down on Bucky's right and watched as he lifted off the lid, having no idea what he would find inside.

The first thing that he saw was a hat, its drab olive color and distinct shape a giveaway of where it had come from. He glanced at Steve, who seemed to be waiting with bated breath, then looked back into the box and carefully picked up the hat.

"When you fell," Steve began quietly, "some of your stuff got given to me. I was supposed to send them to your parents back home, but... I kinda just hung on to them for awhile. Then," he breathed, "when I went into the ice, I didn't have any family for my stuff to be sent to. Peggy ended up taking it all - including yours - and she's had them all these years."

"She's not in the best health these days," Natasha explained, "but I knew it was all with her due to the... renewed interest in Steve at SHIELD a few years ago when we found him."

Processing all of this, Bucky looked away from them and back inside the box. Besides the hat, there were several sizable stacks of letters tied together with string. He picked up one, and a handful of worn pictures fell out. He set the letters back down and then picked up two of the pictures, and as soon as he took a good look at them, he instantly recognized each one and could almost believe, for one brief second, that it was still way back then and he was sitting in some cold barrack in Europe with the other guys, clutching this pictures and imagining a life beyond the war.

One photo was of Vivian, by herself, and it was a professional photo she'd had taken while he had been away and while she was still trying to follow her dreams but working as a nurse in the meanwhile. She had spared him one of the copies and sent it before he had been captured, and the worn image and frayed edges proved how much he had held it back then. It was black and white but he could still see the red of her hair and red of her smiling lips, his mind still able to paint her colors after all it had endured.

The second photo, while equally familiar, made him stare for longer, for other reasons. This one was of Vivian and himself, her in a dress that he knew to be the same shade green of her eyes and he in a suit that was either black or gray - _that_ he was fuzzy on - but it was the smile on his own face that made him stop and stare.

He was younger there, but based on his actual lived years rather than chronological ones, he wasn't _drastically_ younger. But he _did_ look drastically different, lighter and freer and without the kind of damage that he hadn't known was on the horizon. His arm was around Vivian, hand visible on her waist, and she leaned into him with her hand on his chest, his smile mirrored in hers.

The picture was a much simpler depiction of a relationship that had been far from simple, with dizzying ups and downs that he would probably be reading about soon if any of the letters had been from her. He set the pictures back inside and was looking at the stacks of letters to see what was from who when he heard Steve's voice.

"You okay?"

He met Steve's gaze and nodded. "Yeah. Just wasn't expecting this."

Steve nodded. "I know. I just wanted you to have it because a lot of those letters are from your family, mostly your mom and sister. One stack is all Vivian."

Bucky nodded, glancing Summer's way to make sure she wasn't about to have a moment of sudden self-doubt over the mentions of Vivian. But she looked fine, just a little sad as she smiled at him, and he didn't think that it had anything to do with Vivian.

When he looked back inside the box, he moved the papers around some more and found a few small boxes sitting on the bottom. Most of them were long and flat, and he knew without opening them that they held his old medals. A few purple hearts and a silver star, small consolations and accolades that did nothing to even start to make up for what he had endured overseas, but it was all the Army had to offer.

Next to those boxes, however, was a smaller, rounder one, and at first he didn't know what was inside of it. He picked it up and then opened it, and recognition dawned on him.

"That's your -"

"My grandmother's ring," he finished for Steve. "I can't believe it survived all this."

In a delicately woven gold setting sat an oval shaped opal, surrounded by small diamonds. It looked exactly as he suddenly remembered it, though it needed a good cleaning after having sat tucked away in this box for so many decades.

"You had that ring with you while you were at war?" Summer asked curiously, and Bucky looked to Steve for confirmation of what he was pretty sure that he could remember.

"I think I kept it with me all the time," he said, looking back to the ring, "because I wanted to give it to her sometimes but I just... never did."

"You went back and forth more times than I could count," Steve confirmed.

"It's gorgeous," Summer remarked, leaning in closer for a short moment to get a better look. "Like... _wow_."

Bucky had the vaguest of ideas that one day, he might be glad that she liked the ring so much, but for now he simply nodded his agreement and then gently closed the box and put it back inside. There were many more pictures to look through and so many letters to read through that it would take him all week or longer, and with how easily just two pictures had triggered memories and a candle in a cake had given him his first recovered memory of his sister, he knew that the box in front of him could and likely would give him much more.

He turned to Steve and Natasha, telling them both quietly and sincerely, "Thank you."

They both nodded, and when he turned back to the box, replacing the lid on it, he let out a deep breath and felt the familiar pull of his mind trying to draw him inwards, deeper into his thoughts and into his memory, but Summer clearing her throat grabbed his attention and pulled him back into the present. He blinked and looked at her, then immediately noticed the little boy hiding on the other side of her as she smiled and said, "Someone's being shy about giving you the present they made you."

Having expected a present from David even less than he had expected everything else so far, Bucky's expression softened and he waited as Summer dragged David behind her chair with one hand and then pulled him forward with the other. He tried to burrow into her arms to hide, but she turned him around and said, "Come on - we'll give it to him together, okay?"

Slightly encouraged by this, David held out one of his little fists and slowly extended it, smiling but keeping his eyes down purposefully. Bucky glanced at Summer and shared a grin with her before he held out his hand, and then David's fist uncurled, and an action figure plopped down into Bucky's waiting hand.

But it wasn't just any action figure. It had short dark hair, a pale face and eyes partially obscured by a black mask that fit around them. The toy looked slightly worn near the feet, where paint had chipped off, but on the rest of it, a brand new paint job was evident. Its suit had been painted over with all black, aided from its left arm, which was a shiny silver. A slightly smudged red dot had likely been David's attempt at painting a tiny red star on the arm.

He stared at the toy for a long moment, none of its implications lost on him. The fact that David looked up to him and held a lot of usually reserved but still great affection for him was something that he had known for a long time, but this was different.

"That's a guy from a comic book named Nightwing," Summer explained. "He looked the most like you of all David's toys, so he decided to turn him into you."

Sometimes it was easy for Bucky to forget all that David had been through and all that he had seen since Bucky had entered their lives. But the truth was, David had been seconds away from death by a gunshot in Virginia before Bucky had intervened and killed the agents responsible, and more recently, he had escaped a burning building and then watched Bucky carry Pepper out of it.

Despite all the horrors and the things that Bucky had done when others were in control of his mind, and all of the things that still haunted his thoughts and dreams and likely always would, to this little boy, he had never been anything but a hero. And not just any hero, but one with a ridiculously cool arm, and one worthy of his very own custom-made action figure.

Closing his hand around the toy, Bucky smiled at David and then, for the first time ever, held out his right arm to initiate a hug. David looked almost shocked for a moment before he finally dropped the shy act and ran into the hug, during which Bucky thanked him and then glanced up to find Summer watching with suspiciously watery eyes.

After, David pulled away from the hug and then started excitedly emptying his pockets of toys that he apparently had stashed in there, all of them Avengers, and he started setting them up on the table. Playing along, Bucky set his own toy up there next to the others, closest to Thor, but David was unhappy with that arrangement. He plucked the figure up and then put him on Captain America's right hand side, and only then did he allow the game to continue.

The next time Bucky looked Summer's way, he definitely saw tears present in her eyes. This time he couldn't help but quietly ask, "Are you crying?"

She smiled and shook her head, slowly getting from her seat. "Nope. But if I was," she said after she got to her feet, "it would be happy crying."

She then smiled again and turned to head for the kitchen, and he felt the smile lingering on his own face as he turned back to the toys sitting in front of him and the boy who seemed rather overjoyed with how his little gift had turned out.

And so, Bucky's first birthday in more years than he cared to count looked to be going down in history as a decidedly happy one.

* * *

Leaning against a counter and watching the adorable little mock-Avenger-battle take place on the table between Bucky and her son, Summer was dangerously close to being as lost in thought as Bucky was on a regular basis. Between the relief of the birthday going even better than she had hoped for and the emotional turn the night had taken with Steve's gift, the effort of moving plus doing all that she had done was finally catching up with her and making her consider nodding off for a little bit before she went and met her doom later. At least until she felt something cold being pressed to her hand, at which point she looked down to find the culprit was a glass of wine being pushed into her grip by Natasha.

"What's this for?" Summer asked, though she didn't hesitate to take a healthy sip of it.

Holding her own glass, Natasha replied knowingly, "Later."

Summer groaned and muttered, "And here I had almost forgotten about that."

Natasha chuckled, then looked at her for a moment before asking, "You okay?"

"Me? Oh yeah," Summer shrugged. "Totally fine. I just thought that I couldn't possibly be more in love with him than I already am, and then he goes and gives my kid this big, amazing hug that _he_ initiated for the first time ever, and suddenly I'm like... just let me have ten of your babies. How does that even work?"

Natasha laughed at that one, and so did Summer, despite how serious she was. "Sounds like a good problem to have."

She nodded, then said, "And then once again, I see a picture of the girl he used to be with and wonder how the hell I even measure up to _that_, let alone surpass it, but he told me when he first remembered her that it made him realize how much he loved me, because he loved me more. I can't even..."

"Take his word for it," Natasha advised her. "Seriously. Don't compare yourself to his past or try to compete with it. I don't with Steve because I _know_ I can't."

"He had a super awesome 40s lady too?" Summer guessed.

Natasha smiled and replied, "One that might make you feel grateful for the woman in Bucky's past."

"_That_ awesome?"

"Like I said," Nat replied, "I know I can't compete, so I don't. You shouldn't either, especially if what he told you is true. And I would bet that it is.

"... You're right," Summer conceded. "As always."

Natasha smirked and then sipped her wine before adding, "Make sure you drink all of that. You'll need your courage."

"Thanks for the reminder," Summer grumbled, gulping down two more mouthfuls of the wine. "By the way. You know what I couldn't help thinking as Bucky went through that box? I just sat there like, here you and Steve give him this box with this irreplaceable stuff from his old life and things that'll help him remember more, and meanwhile... all I did was write him a bunch of smut."

Natasha laughed more fully at that than Summer thought she ever had at anything she had said before. Summer starting laughing too, finding the whole thing ridiculous but hopefully, ultimately, in a good way.

"Just think of it this way," Natasha suggested. "Steve gave him a piece of his past. You're giving him a piece of his present and future."

"That's a very pretty way of putting it," Summer observed.

"All the more reason to believe me," Natasha smirked before walking off to rejoin Steve, leaving Summer to sigh and down the rest of her wine.

After the cake had ceased to ruin everybody's appetite, dinner was eaten later than usual, and Summer watched the clock wind down with increasingly present nerves. She gulped down a second glass of wine to help that, and luckily, she found enough things to distract her with in the meantime. She got David settled back into their old room, which looked exactly the same as it had before, and he took to it like they had never left, which was a _huge_ relief. She wasn't halfway through one of his storybooks before he was passed out asleep, and as she tucked him in and kissed his forehead as usual, she realized that there was truly no escaping her fate now.

A few minutes later, she was heading back down the hall, still satisfactorily buzzed from the wine but not tipsy, taking a deep breath and holding it as she made a beeline for the table, where Bucky was still sitting and talking with Steve.

When she got there, she put a hand on Bucky's shoulder and then smiled when he looked up at her. "Sorry, I didn't want to interrupt..."

He shook his head, "No, it's okay." Then he looked behind her and around them, then back to her as he asked quietly, "... Is he asleep?"

She nodded, and never had she ever seen Bucky remove himself from a conversation so quickly before. He grabbed the box and his action figure and was up and heading for his room before she could so much as blink. She glanced at Steve, who just gave her a friendly smile that said he didn't want to know, and she returned it before turning to follow Bucky, anxiety born anew.

When she got to his room, she made a quick detour to grab her computer from her room, and then she went back, peeking her head inside timidly for no reason before stepping in and fighting the urge to look away when he looked at her from the closet, where he was putting his box. She just smiled nervously and walked over to his bed, set down the laptop on it, and then started fiddling with her hands as he shut the closet door and started to head her way.

"So... I hope you liked your birthday," she said, suddenly hoping irrationally that she could distract him and he would forget that she still had a present to give him.

"I did," he smiled, eyes darting down to the laptop on his bed briefly as he came closer. "Actually, I wanted to tell you something."

She shifted a little on her feet and waited for him to speak again, only to have his hand take hers and lead her to sit down next to him on the edge of the bed.

"When you were doing the cake and everybody was singing... I looked at the candle and I remembered something. I remembered one of my birthdays from when I was a kid, and I finally remembered my sister."

Her mouth dropped open and she smiled, knowing full well how frustrating it had been for him all this time to barely remember his parents and not remember his sister at all. "Really? That's amazing!"

He smiled back and nodded, his eyes growing softer as he took in how happy she was for him. "Yeah. It wasn't much, but... it's there now, and I think the letters will help me remember more."

She nodded, squeezing his hand that was still holding hers a little, and she replied, "Yeah, I bet they will. That's great. I'm really happy for you."

His smile widened for a moment before he started to lean in, and she closed her eyes as he kissed her softly. He made a quiet, almost indecipherable noise in his throat as he pulled away and then looked at her lips as he said, "You taste like wine."

"Yeah, I had to... try to... calm my nerves," she shrugged.

His eyes shot up to hers and narrowed just by a fraction as he grinned and asked, "Why in the world have you been so nervous all day?"

She sighed and glanced at her laptop that was sitting innocently behind them on the bed, and she closed her eyes and said, "It's my... present for you." Then she gestured to the top of the bed and said, "We should go sit up there and... get comfortable, because you're gonna be here awhile."

He looked confused, but he followed her anyway, and once they were sitting at the top of the bed with pillows between their backs and the bedframe, Summer looked down at the computer in her lap and then at Bucky as she said, "So... I wrote you something."

At first, he didn't seem to grasp how just her writing him something would make her so nervous. But then something seemed to click, and one of his eyebrows shot up as he said quietly, "... Oh."

"Yeah." She opened the laptop and it flashed to life quickly, and she chewed on her lip as she explained, "I didn't know what in the world to get you and nothing seemed right. I was pretty much panicking before I realized that I could just do this, but then I didn't know what to write. Then I remembered something I had said back at the farm that you seemed to like, so then I just figured... well, why not." Glancing at his amused, intrigued expression, she added, "It's really long, so it's gonna take you awhile. And if you hate it, I'm sorry, I really tried my best."

"I... doubt that I'm gonna hate it," he replied as she pulled up the document in question.

"But if you do, you can tell me," she told him seriously. "I don't want you to lie."

"I won't," he assured her, smiling at her like she was nuts.

"... Okay," she finally relented, though she still hesitated to hand over the laptop. Then, to her surprise, she felt his fingertips under her chin and then he was pulling her face to the side and kissing her again, more firmly than last time and in a way that made her stomach still flip after the months she had spent getting used to being with him. She didn't even notice that he gently pried the laptop away from her in the process, at least not until he broke the kiss and slowly drew away. She opened her eyes and realized that her hands were empty and that now he had the computer in his lap, and he merely grinned at her before turning his eyes to the screen.

_Oh God, it's happening. _

She grabbed one of the pillows behind her and hugged it to her chest, hiding most of her face with it as well as she watched him read the title and then start the first paragraph.

This was going to be the longest, hardest, and possibly most humiliating 25,000 words of her life.

* * *

To say that he was intrigued would have been an understatement. At that moment in time, reading what she had written for him was the center of his existence, a mission of utmost importance, and if she was _that_ nervous about it, he had a pretty good idea why. And that meant that he couldn't _wait_ to read.

The title of the story was _Fire and Whiskey_, and by the looks of it, it really was quite long. He was okay with that, especially if his suspicions turned out to be accurate.

The first scene described a woman whose name was not yet known, watching her husband that she didn't seem to be on particularly good terms with pack up for an extended trip away. He read along silently, not yet knowing what sort of story this was or what the setting was until the woman referred to her duties as a "_farmer's wife_", and then it clicked.

He grinned as he glanced over at Summer, who was still hiding firmly behind her pillow, and he said, "So you wrote the farmer's wife thing."

She peeked up from behind her makeshift shield and then nodded, pure and utter preparation to freak out written all over her face. He just continued to grin and then resumed reading, even more excited to continue now that he knew she had taken her drunken semi-roleplaying thing and turned it into an actual story.

The woman in the story ended up being named, rather appropriately, Summer, and when she met his own character at the end of the first scene, he was named Bucky. She described him exactly as he was in real life, with the only difference being his decidedly more "farm boy" appearance - generally dirty (in an appealing way) appearance, messy hair, and in fact rather similar to how he had looked on the farm for most of their stay there.

The premise of the whole story was clear within the first scene; a wife, stuck in a bad marriage to an idiot that she was estranged from but unable to quite escape fully, running an inherited farm that she loved but he hated, meeting a quiet and mysterious new farmhand just hired a few days before.

He read through the next few sections, which were slowly paced and focused on the first interactions between the two characters and their very gradual journey of getting to know one another. She was guarded and in a constant state of numb following the years of misery that she had spent with the husband, the farm being her only source of joy and accomplishment, and he was just as reserved and quiet about his background but ever more intrigued with her.

As a sign of the growing trust between them as they spoke more, Bucky's character eventually stopped hiding his left arm, which Summer had kept metal in the story. He didn't know why it surprised him, but it did. Maybe, somewhere in the back of his head, he still thought that deep down she would prefer him with all of his natural-born limbs and would write him that way. If that was true, then he was clearly wrong.

He looked at her periodically throughout the story, and he found that the more that he read, the more nervous that she got and the more she hid behind the pillow. It only motivated him to read even more.

The growing attraction between the two characters was a subtle, simmering thing, hiding under the surface of the friendship that they established. He was always there and she was always running away, and their banter became increasingly less innocent but still subtle enough for Summer's character to still be in denial. He remembered their relationship developing similarly in real life, at least to a degree.

About midway through the story, a casual party thrown by the other farm workers present resulted in a scene that grabbed his attention to the point of not looking away once until it was over. The flirtations and magnetism between the two characters reached a peak as they talked, stared at each other, and danced, and he thought that it was hilarious that Summer had written his character smoking and hers staring at him with unabashed lust until he caught her.

"What's so funny?" she asked nervously, daring to peek over her pillow when she saw him smirking to himself.

"The cigarette thing," he replied.

She groaned and buried her face into the pillow. "My God, you're barely even halfway."

He just grinned and didn't take his eyes off the screen.

The first time the characters kissed, after both were unable to resist anymore despite the many reasons why they should, he had to go back and read it again. It was the way she described him, and her, and everything, that made him have to reread it. It was the passion of it all, the unsureness and the underlying fear and the forbidden nature that made his pulse quicken, though he didn't notice at first. He imagined what it would have been like had he met her in this sort of situation, where she was still technically tied to some idiotic man but severed from him in all but the legal sense, living under his thumb and essentially dead inside until Bucky came along and the fire lit between them. What would it have been like if she had run away from him at every turn, and he had only little tastes of her, tastes that made him crave more even though he he knew that he couldn't have her?

It would have been torture, but the kind that he would have willingly subjected himself to, just as the alternate version of him did in the story.

He didn't know, but now he was reading with a slight furrow to his brow and mouth barely open as he held his fist to it absently. He also didn't notice Summer watching his expression like a hawk and fretting over what it meant.

After the first kiss, the tension didn't fall but instead rose as both characters tried to act like it didn't happen and go back to the way things were. But, like in real life, there was no hope of ever really going back. Neither of them had wanted to, unlike the characters in the story, and he couldn't imagine having to endure that - or enduring any of this.

Finally, the story culminated with a _very_ long scene that began with Summer's character having a fight over the phone with her still-absent husband that sent her on an angry spiral directly into her barn. As soon as the barn came into the story, he had a very strong suspicion that he was quickly approaching the part that Summer was so nervous about. And he wasn't wrong.

His character talked her down from her barn-trashing rage. She calmed down and confided things in him that she had never told anybody else. For a moment, all was well, except that it wasn't. The husband would be back in a few days, and she couldn't bear to go back to the way life had been, and she wanted one last taste of what she couldn't have before she lost her chance for good.

Her character kissed his for the first time, and if he really stopped to picture it, he could see it as clearly as anything else in his mind. Her timidness as she pulled away apologetically, and his lack of restraint as he grabbed her and kissed her with a palpable fierceness.

He could _feel_ the control snap within the story, and for the duration of it, he did not move. In fact, he barely breathed, and he found that he was _not_ prepared in the least for what came next.

All of the little teases, flirtatious remarks, smoldering and often ignored desires, and completely _consuming_ passion that had been built up since the very first scene suddenly had its outlet in the fictional barn, as both characters mutually agreed to stop running and to just give in. That would have been enough to make him dizzy in itself, but then Summer had made it all so meticulously detailed and her character so inexperienced despite being married and his so eager to show her what she had been missing that it added an extra component to the already-unbelievable scene.

He had to wonder if she had thought about all of the things that would drive him the most crazy and then added them in sheerly for that purpose.

She dragged out every detail in excruciating precision, from the first time his hand brushed down her breast over her dress to how her fingertips tracing down his metal arm made its clicking sounds become faster and louder. Despite the passion and the fever, they moved slowly and didn't rush a thing, maybe because they weren't sure if they would ever get to do it again, or maybe because to rush would have just been a shame and, not to mention, served as far less torturous reading.

Just the undressing, the teasing and the kissing and first touches of new places took up a large chunk of the document, and he was sure that she had not missed _anything_. From the scars on his character's body to the anxiety of the mind of Summer's, it all rang true to what a situation like this between them would mean. _Except_ for the fact that his arm had the ability to vibrate, which was a concept she had not let go to waste.

And all of this before anything truly graphic and intimate had actually transpired between them. If the computer had not been situated the way that it was on his lap, Summer would have been able to see how affected he already was.

He felt something that felt a _lot_ like a blush start to creep up on his neck as he read his character finishing undressing hers as he told her, in specific detail, what he was going to do to her over the course of the night, and what he wanted her to do to him. The thing that killed him was that it was all from her perspective, and it gave him a chance to get into her head in a way that he hadn't before, and the effect was _maddening_.

His fist over his mouth opened and his hand closed over it instead but he was unaware, enraptured as the words he was reading began to heat up.

_The first thing that I'm gonna do is something I get the feeling nobody's ever done for you before."_

_Her eyes widened slightly, and she stuttered, "You mean... your mouth on my..."_

_He nodded, sparing her from having to say anything else. "Yes. Am I right?"_

_She nodded, a blush on her cheeks blooming already, well in advance of the fruition of his words._

_"All you have to do is relax," he said, fingers running sweetly through her hair, "and trust me. Can you do that?"_

_She nodded, though her cheeks were still aflame and even her ears were burning._

_"Good," he said, kissing her lips softly. "And then after that..." he trailed down her neck, kissing and touching as he went, "after you catch your breath... you'll be ready for what I'll do next."_

In reality, he was well aware, he _had_ been her first for that particular act, just like in this fictional world that she had created. Now, he got to read about it from her perspective, and when his character began, she did not skimp on the details of what it felt like and how stunned and utterly lost to it she was.

Something in his brain started short circuiting, because reading something like this from a woman who was _still_ shy sometimes about certain things and whom he had never heard use certain kinds of terminology for body parts that she had written here - it was almost too much. She had never once gone into detail with him about what certain things felt like, at least not this level of detail, and by the time that part was over, he felt almost like he needed to take a break and get his head straight.

_And there was still a lot more to go. _

It was him essentially guiding her through an earth-shattering sexual awakening, but the focus wasn't _all_ on her. When her character returned the favor that she had just received from his, and asked for guidance so that she would do it the way that he specifically liked, he did stop reading, because he _needed_ to.

There was a recurring theme that hadn't escaped his notice. She described in incredibly thorough detail every sound that his character made, from their first kiss to now this much more intimate act, and he hadn't been prepared to realize the sort of effect that his unashamedly vocal nature had on her. Perhaps it was just because of how caught up he was when he was that vocal in real life, but he had simply never realized how much she loved it and how absolutely crazy it drove her.

Now that he knew this... not to mention how he also knew the effect that _filthy words _apparently had on her... he was already planning how to use this to his advantage, in between trying to keep his cool.

He looked up at the ceiling, the wall, everywhere but the computer screen as he took a deep breath and tried to calm down.

"What? What's wrong? Do you hate it? Oh God, you -"

He shook his head, holding up his hand so she would stop rambling, but he couldn't physically speak, so he just drew a deep breath and kept going.

But it didn't get any easier.

Her character's paltry and rather sad sexual history with the only man she had ever been with left her having never been on top before. This was the next thing that was remedied, as the two characters finally, _finally_, neared the main act.

_"Summer, sit up straight."_

_She looked at him a little uneasily despite how badly she wanted to just ride the hell out of him, lying on top of him with her chest pressed to his, but he kissed her to reassure her and then murmured a breath away from her lips, "Take what you want from me."_

_A shudder tore through her at those words, and with his words echoing through her head, she slowly sat up, ignoring the shyness that would only get in the way of her finally getting what she wanted tonight._

Bucky almost stopped reading again, but he didn't. He kept going, devouring each word, then unconsciously bit down on his index finger as his hand came over his mouth again once he moved down two more paragraphs.

_It was everything she had imagined it to be in her head, but better. The power, the control that was within her grasp, the way that he looked up at her and touched her as her mouth dropped open more and more, her sounds growing louder and louder along with his. She moved steadily faster and faster, and then his hands grasped her hips and angled her just barely differently, and she nearly screamed as..."_

He didn't look away this time, but he did close his eyes and suddenly realize that he was biting his finger. He dropped it, took another deep breath, and soldiered on, the initial excitement that this part of the story had caused now bordering on painful, desperate, uncontrollable need.

He wouldn't dare look her way, because if he did, he knew that he would rip the pillow away from her and _pounce_, and he was determined to finish the story regardless of what it did to him.

Again, reading from her perspective proved utterly illuminating and so incredibly _maddening. _He knew that she liked being on top, but just like before, he was not prepared for the details, for reading in such shameless detail what it felt like and how it drove her crazy, and by the time his character had flipped her over on the pile of hay that all of this was happening on, he hoped with everything he had that it would be over soon because he wasn't sure he could _take_ much more.

But there was more, quite a bit more, because like him in real life, his character had a fondness for dragging things out and making them happen _over_ and _over_.

By the time that the end _did_ come, he thought that he might as well, so he took one more break to stare at the wall for a bit.

Luckily, there was one more scene following that one, of the morning after and all of the sleepy, calm sweetness that came with it. It was a short scene, and he hoped that it would help calm him down, but it didn't. At this point, maybe nothing would.

The story finished on a sweet but open-ended note, as the two characters decided to stay together and face whatever the future held together. He read the last part twice, trying to buy some more time, but it was a moot point.

"... Are you done?" Summer asked when she saw that he was scrolled all the way to the bottom. "... You _are_ done."

He sat and stared blankly at the screen for a moment, trying to show some semblance of self control. But Summer put the pillow down a bit and then inched closer, asking, "Are... you okay? Did you hate it? You kind of... look like you hate it. Oh God. _You hate it_."

He let out a deep breath and then dragged his hand over his face, unable to form words to dispute her ridiculous assumption and still trying to... hold it together.

He let his head drop back slightly against the bed, hand still over his face, and with the other one, he pushed her computer off of his lap. If he knew her at all, he knew where her eyes would immediately go, and that would put to rest any bit of doubt in her head if he had liked the story or not.

"... I'm sorry, it was probably weird and I don't know, I just thought it would be..."

Silence.

"_Oh_."

Now that he knew that she understood, he let his hand drop and then drew in a deep, steadying breath, then exhaled, still afraid to even _glance_ her way.

"Um... do you... want some help with... that?"

"I need a minute," he muttered before getting up and out of the bed, away from her and away from impending embarrassment, taking temporary refuge in the bathroom.

First he paced a little, walking back and forth and trying to think of anything he could that would make him calm down.

_Steve in tights_. He'd gotten so use seeing that one, though, that it was the same as saying the sky was blue, so he switched to something else.

_Stark in a... dress? Nothing?_ He squinted at the ceiling, becoming legitimately angry that _this_ was the best he could come up with.

_Grandma_. Then he paused. ... _What did Grandma even look like?_

Giving up, he turned on the faucet as cold as it could go and dumped as much as his hands could cup on his face, his hair, even the back of his neck, which did precisely nothing. Nothing got the images out of his head that Summer had put there.

He was screwed. If he could even make it to _being_ screwed.

* * *

She was in shock when she watched him all but run into the bathroom, wondering how he could even stand up straight given his current... obvious ... _condition_, and how he hadn't just tipped over and fallen on his face as soon as he stood up.

And even if that was a slight exaggeration, nothing could stop her from smiling like an idiot and falling back on the bed in sheer happiness and overwhelming relief.

He liked it. He liked it _a lot_.

She would wear his reaction as a badge of honor and pride until her dying day.

Then, on a surge of sudden confidence and leftover courage from the wine, she suddenly sat up with a _fantastic_ idea. She just had to do it fast, before he came back out.

First she wrestled off her shirt, then took her hair down from a messy ponytail it had been in ever since she had decorated for his birthday with one hand while her other reached behind and tried to undo her bra. She heard some vague noise from the bathroom, so she suddenly went faster and flung the bra off, and in her haste to then get her jeans off, fell off the bed. She cursed and got them off while she was still on the floor, then scrambled back up to the bed, tossed her underwear _somewhere_, and then laid down.

Then she faced the dilemma of how exactly to position herself. After a lot of hurried switching back and forth, she opted for lying on her side, head propped on her hand and facing the bathroom, since that would give him the best view.

She almost - almost - lost her nerve, but then the door opened and she realized there was no going back. She bit her lip and then waited, and when she saw him first walk out, he was drying his face off with a small hand towel, thus not looking. Of course.

And he didn't look as he walked, because he seemed to be trying not to look at her on purpose.

She rolled her eyes and cleared her throat. He dropped the towel down a bit and looked at her, then almost tripped over his own feet as he dropped the towel to the floor, jaw dropping and some kind of choking noise rather than words coming out.

Inside, she was screaming with glee.

"That... that's... not helping," he managed to choke out.

She just dropped her eyes down below his belt and replied, "I can see that." Then she sat up as gracefully as she could, swinging her legs off the side of the bed as her feet hit the floor, and she motioned for him to come closer. "You should let me help you with that while it's still your birthday."

His jaw clenched under the weight of his strained self control, he walked to her, eyes sweeping over every inch of her, and he shed his t-shirt along the way. Once he was within her reach, she pulled him forward by the belt loops of his jeans and smiled up at him as he stared down at her, his expression dazed and heated and utterly serious as she started undoing his belt.

But his hand covered hers and gently pushed it before she could get anywhere, and then suddenly he was laying her down on her back and kissing her, keeping his weight off of her and deliberately _not_ letting himself rub against her as he moved her up the bed. His kiss was deep but shaky with restraint, and when he pulled away, his forehead to hers, he looked down at her and smiled as he murmured, "You're amazing."

She smiled happily, her fingers in his slightly damp hair as she replied, "I'm so relieved that you liked it, you have no idea."

He shook his head. "I _loved_ it. I love you," he kissed her on her lips, then her cheek, and before he reached the spot under her ear, he added, "_So much_."

She moaned softly as he kissed down her neck, and then when he lifted his head to look in her eyes again, she wasn't prepared for the level of sheer wonder and adoration in his eyes, like she was some kind of goddess and he utterly unworthy.

"Happy birthday," she said a little teasingly, watching a grin spread across his lips just before he kissed her again.

"Thank you," he whispered, and she knew that he wasn't thanking her just for the story or just for the celebration, but for all of it, and it made all of the effort and the panicking and the anxiety and the mental anguish well worth it. Natasha had been right after all.

They kissed slowly, moved and touched slowly, not just because it was what he needed at that moment to keep himself together but because she needed it too. Like in the story, there was no need to rush, and as much as she liked the faster, slightly rougher stuff sometimes, there was nothing better or sweeter than lazily intense times like these.

She waited until she finally had his jeans off and he had rolled them over so that she was on top before she grinned down at him and asked, "So if I wrote a sequel, would you read it?"

"I'll read anything you ever write," he replied, reaching up and moving her hair over one shoulder. "Just... warn me next time."

"Wouldn't have been as fun," she pointed out, lowering herself down to kiss his neck.

His fingers of his left hand tangled in her hair as he asked, "... When's your birthday?"

She paused and raised her head, looking at him a bit suspiciously. "In a few months." She paused again. "Why?"

"Just curious," he shrugged innocently. Problem was, she knew nothing was ever innocent with him.

"... You're not gonna tell me, are you?"

He shook his head, then bit his lip and flipped them over again, pulled her leg up and hooking it over his hips as he replied, "Wouldn't be as fun."

Then he swallowed any possible retort with a searing kiss, and she let it go, giggling against his mouth and letting her mind go utterly blank as they both worked to make the very most of the twenty minutes left until midnight.

**A/N: So! :) Originally this chapter was planned much differently, but in light of March 10th being Bucky's canon birthday, it turned out rather long and not even slightly resembling what I originally had planned, which was fine with me because I'm quite happy with this :D My undying thanks to midnightwings96 who so much of this chapter is owed to because I am just as bad as my OC here with gift ideas, even for fictional people, and the whole story-as-a-gift thing (and Steve's gift) was all her idea, as was basically the entire chapter. So. Much praise to her, as always :D**

**Now, as for this week's "surprise" lol. The very minute I settled on what Summer would write for Bucky, I immediately realized that I wanted to write it out myself and post it alongside this chapter because as fun as it was to have Bucky read the story and see it from his perspective, this is just one of those things that I pretty much just _had_ to write out. So I did, and it is quite long, and I enjoyed writing it so much that it was seriously hard to stop. Like. I cannot overstate how much I loved it. So, after I post this chapter, I'm going to post it as an AU oneshot, so look for it either here in the Cap section or on my profile :D It is called Fire and Whiskey, like this chapter said (hee hee), and it is a nice little change of pace and a glimpse of what may have been had these two characters met under vastly different circumstances. I only hope that you all like reading it as much as I liked writing it. I shall be anxiously awaiting any feedback I'm lucky enough to get :D **

**Thank you guys so much for your reviews and for sticking with me week after week, putting up with these giant chapters I throw at you. I love you all tons and tons :D See you all next week, and I apologize for this week's eye strain :)))**


	23. Chapter 23

At nearly four in the morning, Summer found herself wide awake and in tears, but not due to distressful causes like one would assume. She wasn't in her own bed, instead sitting up in Bucky's while he was in the bathroom, and she was staring at a picture on her phone of her brand-new niece, who had been born only twenty minutes earlier on the other side of the continent.

She was used to missing the births of her brother's kids, but that never really made it any easier. And even if it did, seeing a newborn baby's face was enough to make her cry anyway, so a rush of bittersweet tears were to be expected.

As she heard Bucky open the bathroom door and start to walk out, she got a new picture, this one of Paul and Sarah smiling and leaning in close to one another with the new little girl in Sarah's arms. Summer couldn't help but be in awe of the woman, having just given birth to her seventh child at only thirty-two years old and looking somehow radiant even though she should have looked like she had just been hit by a train.

Summer remembered pregnancy and childbirth like it was yesterday, and she very clearly remembered the distinct feeling of not wanting to ever go through it again for a very, very long time, if ever. Just the idea of seven kids, two of which were twins, and all of that _work_ and lack of sleep and never ending laundry and dishes... how did Sarah even do it, and _why_?

Then again... Summer knew well why. Something about having the sort of heart that was made for children, and then having a man who made you want to give them to him. Somewhere in certain parts of her head that she wasn't about to acknowledge yet, Summer was finally starting to understand that concept.

"Are you crying?"

Summer blinked and looked up at Bucky, who had just sat on the edge of the bed near her feet, looking at her in slight concern as he put on a pair of boots over black cargo pants that she recognized from the last time she had seen him off on a mission. Instead of the rest of the uniform, for now he wore a white tank top and damp hair from his shower, and Summer didn't let these things distract her for long before she shook her head and replied, "No, I mean, yeah, I'm crying but... it's because of this."

She then held out her phone, which he took as she scooted closer to him so that she could look at the photo with him. "Your brother's baby," Bucky deducted, and Summer nodded as she rested her chin on his shoulder.

"They named her Marina," Summer said. "I haven't decided yet if I hate that name as much as I think I might, but look at how _cute_ she is." She reached forward and zoomed in on the baby's face, for emphasis, and when Bucky chuckled, she asked, "What?"

"Nothing," he insisted, but she wasn't buying it.

"No, seriously, what? Don't you think she's cute?" Summer asked. "You can tell me, I won't be offended or anything."

He shrugged for a moment, looking again at the picture as he said, "I don't know... just kind of... looks like my therapist."

Summer nearly spit on the phone screen with her sudden laugh at that unexpected remark. "Oh my God! Your _therapist_? I mean, I can see maybe a _little_ bit of old-man face, but that's normal for newborns and look at her nose... it's so tiny and sweet!"

"You asked me to be honest," he shrugged innocently with a grin as she pulled the phone back in front of her and continued to inspect the photo.

"Yes I did," she said, setting her phone down and wiping at the leftover moisture near her eyes. "I guess I just have the typical baby blinders on. Like when David was born. I have no clue if other people genuinely thought he was cute and I didn't care. He could have looked like one of those ugly troll dolls and I still would have thought he was the cutest baby in existence."

"Troll doll?"

"Oh right, you missed those," Summer sighed, sometimes finding it easy to forget how out of place Bucky still was in this century. He had adapted so well and was even getting better at Mario Kart, thanks to David's constant and vigorous "training", so it was easy for little references to slip her mind. "Well anyway, they're hideous little creatures with bright neon hair, and they scared me to death when I was a kid, so Paul would hide them under my pillows and all through my room and laugh when I started screaming."

Bucky smiled and replied, "Sounds like something I would have done, if everything Steve says is true."

"Which I'm sure it is," she replied, reaching out and pushing away a stray wet lock of hair from his forehead. "So... how long now?"

Bucky checked the clock on his nightstand and replied, "We're leaving in twenty minutes."

She signed and nodded. "I know I've said this already, but I'm just saying... since I have to sit here and worry all day and wait for you to get back, I would at _least_ like to get to see you in the uniform, when you're done."

"I know. And I would like for you to get some sleep," he said, leaning in and giving her a soft and short kiss as she groaned a little bit.

"How was I supposed to sleep? My niece was being born and I was getting constant updates, plus I knew you were getting up at three to get ready to leave," she pointed out. "I never had a hope of sleeping tonight."

"But you work later," he replied. "You need to sleep."

She shrugged and replied, "That's what coffee's for."

Bucky just sighed and gave her a look before standing up, needing to get the rest of his things together, and Summer sighed and flopped back on the bed as she opened her phone, texting Paul back as she listened to Bucky walk back and forth about the room, tossing things into his bag.

"You have those protein bars I made you packed, right?" she asked without looking away from the screen.

"Yeah."

"All of them? I know how much you can eat."

"Yes, Summer."

"Okay." After hitting the send button, she paused and then asked, "Is it gonna be cold in D.C.? Because you might need to take a jacket or -"

"Summer. It'll be fine."

She nodded, mostly to herself, and then started typing again before adding, "Make sure you don't forget to drink water in between... you know... beating up bad guys and -"

Then, out of nowhere, her phone was snatched out of her hands and tossed out of her reach on the bed, and she looked up to find Bucky grinning down at her as he lowered himself down on the bed, then climbed on top of her. "I'm fine, Summer. Really."

Then he kissed her, and she closed her eyes with a muffled whine against his lips as she pulled him down, closer, and held him against her with her arms around his neck. After a moment, he took a breath and smiled softly at her as she pulled her thoughts back together after his unexpected interruption of her last-minute checklist. "I know. But I worry. Especially about you." Then her eyes widened slightly and she quickly added, "Not because I think I need to, but because I love you and that means I'm gonna worry like a psycho."

"I know," he replied, still smiling, and she wondered how he could be so at ease when her stomach was in knots for him. Then he kissed her again, and after he said quietly, his lips still grazing hers, "But you need to get some sleep. If you promise me that you will after I leave, then maybe... I can bring you back a surprise."

She raised an eyebrow. "A surprise? Like what? A souvenir? Like a... I don't even know, actually."

He squinted slightly and then shook his head. "No."

"... But then what..."

He kissed her again to silence her, then said, "If I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise. But you have to sleep first."

She sighed and made a face. "Of course that would be your condition."

"Same as you making sure I'm not hungry or cold," he shrugged.

She nodded faintly, then smiled and kissed him again, not letting him go until his phone across the room starting beeping, making him pull away with a slight groan.

"Is that your cue to go?" she guessed, and he nodded before reluctantly rolling off of her and off of the bed. She sat up and found her phone again, then watched him as he threw on a black long-sleeved shirt and started double checking everything in his bag.

The last time she had seen him off before a mission, she hadn't really known what to do or say. In some ways, she still didn't, especially since he was finally trying again after that disastrous first time. But they were in a much more stable, open place in their relationship now than they were then, and she felt like she knew him in a way she hadn't then. He had come a long way as well, in terms of his memory and personality and just about _everything_, and she felt like she should say or do something to give him once last push of encouragement before he left. But what?

Her idea came just as he zipped up his bag and shoved his phone into his pocket. She stood and walked over to his dresser, near where he stood, and opened his top drawer, which she knew held what she was looking for. He watched her curiously as she picked up his old dog tags by the chain, then turned towards him before stepping closer and carefully lifting it up towards his head. He bent down slightly to help her, though his expression was still slightly confused, and she quietly explained, "Just think of this as your reminder of who you are under all that leather and metal."

She tucked the tags under his shirt, like they'd be safe there, and he looked at her as he replied, "But I'm not... that. _Him_. I'm..."

"I know," she nodded understandingly. "But you're also not _him_." She tapped his left shoulder where the red star was under his sleeve, and she added, "You're you. They're both parts of you. And I love you."

She couldn't think of a better or simpler way to put it, and it seemed to be just enough. His eyes softened and he leaned in to give her one more kiss before he really couldn't stall any longer and had to go.

"I'll be back tonight," he said after breaking the kiss, and she nodded as he picked up his bag and then added pointedly, "Remember. Sleep."

She nodded, rolling her eyes slightly, then following him as he walked to the door. Once they were out in the hallway and reached her door, she lingered there as he briefly paused, turning to tell her goodbye one more time.

"Text me when you get there. And before you start. And after your done. If you can," she said. "I'll be here trying not to drink away my chronic anxiety and go crazy thinking the worst."

He gave her a look, then opened his mouth to say something, but then his phone beeped in his pocket again, and she just sighed and gestured down the hall. "Go."

He nodded, but he gave her one last fleeting kiss before finally actually leaving. She watched him walk away until he disappeared from sight, and then she opened her door and walked inside her room with a heavy sigh. Down the hall, unbeknownst to her, Bucky reached the secured doors to the elevator and closed his eyes as he let the forced lightness on his face drop, finally able to drop his completely relaxed and unworried act now that he didn't have to keep it up for her benefit.

Meanwhile, knowing that she had the whole day ahead of her to worry, Summer wasted no time in curling up in her own bed, next to her peacefully sleeping son, and close her eyes while very different visions and thoughts of babies and super-secret superhero missions danced behind them.

To her shock, she fell asleep within minutes. Her first thought upon waking up four hours later was that she might get that "surprise" after all.

* * *

Despite his own natural, unavoidable sense of unease about the mission following what had happened last time, Bucky found that overall, it felt like slipping back into an old routine that he would never really forget. It also helped that he felt considerably more together and stable, overall, than he had back when he had first tried to do this again.

Something else that helped keep the anxiety at bay was how much more comfortable he was with the people he was currently riding in the back of a van with.

"I have never felt more like a sex offender before in my life," Sam remarked as he drove Steve, Natasha, and Bucky through the streets just outside of D.C.. "This thing just screams 'I've got candy, get in'."

"You'll get used to it," Natasha replied, handing Steve and Bucky two tiny comm pieces from her place in the front passenger seat.

Bucky glanced at Steve as they both put the pieces in their ears, and when Steve tested out the connection, Bucky heard a familiar voice reply, "You know, I always wanted to hear Captain America whisper in my ear while I peed out five cups of coffee in the Capitol building."

"Good morning to you too, Stark," Steve replied with an eye-rolling slight smile.

"More like afternoon now. How do you like the van?"

Bucky then glanced towards Sam, who replied after Nat had given him his own piece, "Like I'm about to get my fifteen minutes of fame on Dateline's 'How to Catch a Predator'."

"Perfect. Well, I'll be in touch when it's time. Gotta have a late lunch with the Speaker of the House."

Steve rolled his eyes, and Sam asked, "Is that really what he's doing?"

Natasha nodded, then said, "Rumor has it he's being 'wooed' to run for office."

"Office? What office?" Steve asked in mild horror.

"Any office," she replied. "The general thought is that after the Vice President was caught aiding the President's attempted assassination and HYDRA turned out to be secretly running everything, a good start to rebuilding trust in the government would be electing an Avenger. Maybe they're 'wooing' him and not you because they think you're too old."

Steve rolled his eyes, then said, "I can't see Stark agreeing to that."

"He won't. But he's using it as an excuse to be in the area and also gleam some info. He's probably bugging every inch of the Capitol as we speak."

Bucky's thoughts regarding how truly bizarre the world around him was were interrupted by the soft buzzing of his phone in his pocket. He picked it up and didn't have to read it to know that it was Summer checking up on him again, and indeed, it was.

_On my break. Anything exciting happen yet?_

Using the only hand that was capable of texting on a touchscreen phone, he replied, _Not yet. Few more hours. _

Her reply came quickly. _Ok. Be careful._

He smiled faintly at her unnecessary reminder, and then sent back, _I will. Did you sleep?_

_Actually yes. A whole four hours. _

His smile lingered as he typed his short reply. _Good_.

Across from him, Steve watched him text and asked, "Ready for tonight?"

Looking up, Bucky nodded quickly. "Yeah."

"I have a good feeling about this," Steve replied. "It'll be better this time."

Bucky hoped Steve was right. His instincts said he was. But the nagging voice in his head that had spent months ridiculing himself following the last mission was still there, and he didn't think that it would leave until this mission was officially a success.

In short, he would feel better when all of this was over and nothing disastrous had happened as a result.

* * *

Summer went about her day on autopilot. Drop David off downstairs, where he was quite happy to be reunited with his daycare friends, go back upstairs and wear a happy face at work all day while inside she was chewing her imaginary nails off of her imaginary hands, and then pick David up when it was over, and spend the rest of the day waiting for everyone to get back in one piece.

And that was how she found herself that evening after the sun had set, sitting on the couch and absently playing Mario with David as she watched the clock and checked her phone enough to be officially labeled a crazy person. It wasn't that she truly feared that something terrible would happen to Bucky - he was a lot more durable than the guys he was hunting down - and she was also pretty confident that he wouldn't lose it this time. It was the _waiting_ and the the automatic worrying that was getting to her, and nothing was distracting enough.

"I've been sitting here for like fifteen minutes and I'm pretty sure you haven't even noticed."

Summer nearly jumped off the couch, letting out an undignified squeak as her suddenly wide eyes saw Darcy sitting on the other side of the couch, on David's other side, holding a pint of ice cream in one hand and a spoon in the other. "What the frick! When did you even come in here?"

"Like ten minutes ago," she replied around a mouthful of ice cream. "I said hi and everything and you just kept staring at the TV like Luigi in a flying squirrel suit was the center of your existence."

Summer blinked and then relaxed slowly, sighing as she turned back to the game and muttered, "I am so ready for this day to be over."

"Dude," Darcy pointed out, "you have like nothing to worry about. You're dating a guy who is extremely hard to kill or even hurt, and he's got a robot arm. Plus his best friend is equally indestructible and probably worries about him even more than you do."

"No, I know," Summer said, back to playing robotically. "It's the waiting. It's the worst." Then she paused and added, "It's a good thing I was born in the '80s and not back in his day, because I would have been an absolute wreck when he joined the Army."

"That is so weird," Darcy replied. "I mean, it's a hell of a story, but do you realize how weird that is? If he had some secret love child from the forties, his secret great-grandkids could _still_ be older than you."

Summer made a face and then said, "I really hope he doesn't because that might be creepy."

Before Darcy could answer, Summer heard the doors open across the room, and since Summer knew they couldn't possibly be back yet, she had a brief moment of concern before the visitor ended up just being her boss.

"Hi," Pepper said as the doors closed behind her, looking much more causal in a t shirt and shorts than Summer was used to seeing as she made a beeline for the living room area. "Hope you two don't mind the company."

"Not at all," Darcy said. "Come join our party."

Pepper sighed and sat down in a chair close to the couch, then asked Summer, "Have you heard from them?"

"Like half an hour ago," she replied. "They were about to get started, I think."

Pepper nodded, crossing her arms as she said, "See, I used to be used to this. Then Tony kind of took a break from everything for awhile and now I have to get used to it again."

"You know," Darcy said, eating the last of the ice cream in the pint, "we could all like train and become super badass chicks and go with them so we don't have to sit around here and wait while they do all the work."

"I've had a taste of that," Pepper replied. "It's not all it's cracked up to be. For me, at least."

"... I've shot and tasered a couple of HYDRA people," Summer shrugged. "That's something, right?"

"I love tasers!" Darcy exclaimed. "I tasered Thor after Jane hit him with her car."

Summer then turned to Darcy with wide eyes and asked, "Why in the world would you ever want to taser _Thor_? Or hit him with a car?!"

In the midst of the thankfully distracting conversation, David took a look around the room and the women within it, then hopped off the couch and, after a moment of searching, returned with two new controllers that he dropped in Pepper's lap first and then Darcy's, before he sat back down on the couch and looked at each of them expectantly.

"Oh," Pepper said, holding the controller backwards. "I haven't played a video game since... well, probably Pac-Man."

"Sweet," Darcy said, setting her empty carton on the coffee table in front of her feet and then hunkering down with her controller. "Everybody pick Pepper up and throw her at the Goombas."

Summer couldn't help but laugh to herself, but she would be lying if she said that playing games with her son and the other women waiting for the return of their own Avengers wasn't highly preferable to sitting there and worrying herself into an early grave.

* * *

Outside of D.C., in an otherwise unsuspecting part of Virginia, there was a distinctly non-suspicious barbecue-style restaurant that sat quietly and unassumingly in the middle of an unremarkable strip mall. It was the last sort of place one would expect to find a secret HYDRA facility underneath, but that was the idea, and Bucky was squinting at the building through the scope of his gun as Steve muttered next to him, "Didn't know Nazis liked barbecue."

"Are they still Nazis at this point?" Bucky asked, lowering the gun slightly without taking his gaze off of the building. They were on a rooftop that was close enough for them to jump from on to the roof of the restaurant when the time came.

"Same philosophy," Steve said. "It's kinda shocking how after all this time, nothing's really changed and we're still fighting the same people."

Shocking and incredibly depressing, but Bucky wasn't about to say that. He looked through the scope one more time just as the lights in the building went out, signaling the start of the action.

"Get ready," Steve said quietly as the customers started deserting the place one by one, using their phones as lights. Once the last one had left, Natasha gave them the all-clear over the comm, and after that, the weeks of planning and prepping for this mission culminated in about seven minutes that felt like even less time once they began.

While Nat and Sam went in through the front door, unseen thanks to the darkness, Steve and Bucky jumped and landed unnaturally quietly on the roof, then quickly made their way to a glass portion of it.

"So, Jack and Ennis," Tony's voice said into their ears, "are you on the rooftop yet?"

"Yes," Steve replied. "What did you call us?"

"Well I caught fifteen minutes of Brokeback Mountain the other day and it reminded me of you two," Tony said. "I'm just kidding. Maybe. All right, so, directly underneath your feet is the kitchen, plus three guys who are guarding the entrance to their lair underneath the place. Looks like you get there through the freezer. Should feel right at home."

Bucky gave Steve an annoyed look that Steve returned with full sincerity just before Bucky punched a hole through the glass. Steve went to jump in first but Bucky beat him to it, and after their feet were back on the ground and in the almost-pitch black, in a matter of seconds, thanks to Tony's direction and their skills, the men were unconscious on the floor, before any of them had the chance to fire a single bullet.

Then Natasha and Sam arrived, just as a generator kicked in and the lights went back on over their heads. "Front end's secure," Nat said, briefly eyeing the knocked-out men on the floor. "They didn't hit the panic button."

"Good," Steve said, turning and heading towards the freezer. "Let's go."

Following closely behind with his gun ready, Bucky followed Steve into the freezer, not blinking at the sudden rush of cold as Tony directed them to the part of the wall behind some heavy boxes of product that would lead to the secret underground HYDRA "cave". Steve found the catch in the wall, but when he pulled the hidden door open, it revealed yet another door, this one far more secure and high tech, requiring a retinal scan for entrance.

"On it," Sam immediately muttered before grabbing one of men off of the floor and dragging them to the door, then pulling an eyelid open and successfully unlocking the door.

After that, it was no slow, creeping descent down the stairs. The men underground knew full well that they were there, and as soon as the door flashed green and opened, shots were being fired and a brief spat of chaos erupted.

The first two shooters were felled by their own bullets ricocheting off of Steve's shield and hitting them, and they took one other man down with him as their bodies tumbled down the stairs. More men were only a second behind, and as Bucky took cover behind a stack of frozen food boxes that reached the ceiling, he returned fire and sent one man to join the others at the bottom of the stairs. Steve was busy taking on three men at once, and just as Bucky shot one of them, Natasha tried to give Sam a hand with his own guy only to take a hit to the face and get knocked back towards the stairs. Bucky tried to get a clear shot at her attacker, but they were moving too quickly, and when she kicked the man down the stairs, he grabbed her and took her with him.

Steve saw it happen and called her name, but being choked by one man while breaking the arm of another, he couldn't quite get to her, so Bucky got up and ran to the door instead. What he saw almost made him laugh - Natasha was essentially surfing down the stairs using the man's body as a makeshift board, shooting others as she went, and then flipping into the air to avoid crashing into the ground when they hit the bottom of the stairs.

Behind him, Steve had taken care of the remaining men, so Bucky headed down the stairs next, helping her return fire to the men scrambling about. The space was large and narrow, looking like a cross between an office and a lab, and Bucky noticed one shooter taking aim at Natasha from behind a desk as she shot in the opposite direction. Just as the man started to pull the trigger, Bucky fired a bullet that hit the man directly between the eyes, and Natasha turned and looked just in time to see the man crumple to the floor.

She looked over her shoulder and blinked when she saw Bucky standing behind her. "Thanks."

Before he could answer, there was an explosion to their left, and they both whipped around in time to see a man in a gray suit start racing through the hole in the wall that he had just created.

"That's him," Natasha said. "Johnson."

Stuart Johnson was the known ex-HYDRA operative whose movements they had tracked over the last two months and led them to this place, revealing it to be a sort of hub for the pushed-underground organization. He was the highest ranked operative that they were aware of who was present tonight, one of the men that they had determined as the architects of the attack on the tower, and his capture was one of their primary objectives.

And since Steve was still upstairs, that meant Bucky got to chase after him as he fled.

He started running without a second thought, straight into the hole in the wall that apparently led into an emergency escape route. Natasha took care of a few remaining shooters who tried to fire at him on the way, and once he was inside the tunnel, overtaking the man was beyond easy - even for an average man, Johnson was not a very fast runner.

As Bucky closed the distance, Johnson turned once and fired a few shots that Bucky's left arm flew up to deflect. Two of them bounced off, but a third shattered on impact and shrapnel managed to slide between the plates of his arm, which was something he did not care about nor notice as he got within grabbing distance of the man.

Bucky caught him by the back of his suit jacket and shoved him down to the ground, then turned him over on his back and kicked the gun out of his hand. Johnson's eyes then widened with recognition, and he gasped as he coughed from the impact of being slammed to the ground, "Not even bothering with the mask anymore?"

Bucky had been prepared for this. Planning to fully ignore whatever came flying out of this guy's mouth, he went to drag the man to his feet only to pause when he added, "I always told Pierce he should get rid of you."

He narrowed his eyes but still refused to otherwise acknowledge the man, who went on to say, "One time I watched you kill an entire team of men after a mission, men who were there to help you and extract you. You just ripped them apart like a rabid dog until Pierce used your shut down code."

A dull ache starting to throb in his head, Bucky narrowed his eyes further and fought to keep the sudden sense of impending panic at bay. He had no memory of this event, no idea what a shut down code was, and his lack of knowledge regarding either thing was enough to make his head start immediately hurting. But then he stopped, took a breath, and realized what this man was doing.

He looked terrified, and he was still gasping for air, despite his tough talk. What was a HYDRA operative with no hope of a fighting chance to do when the Winter Soldier had just captured him and was holding him down to the ground in the middle of a tunnel? Clearly, the answer was to verbally induce confusion and maybe a panic attack or flashback, then try to make a run for it first chance he got.

"You're still that _thing_," Johnson said, voice trembling even more. "There's still codes that can either shut you down or restart you and -"

Before he could say another word, Johnson took a metal fist to the face and then promptly passed out. Bucky stood up, briefly glanced around the tunnel, then picked the man up, tossed him over his shoulder, and started heading back, feeling the pain in his head start to diminish as he refocused on the mission at hand, half of which was completed now that Johnson was in their custody.

When he emerged from the tunnel, everything seemed calm and Steve looked as if he had been just about to come after him. A number of men were tied up on the floor, even more knocked out, and Natasha rolled out a chair as she said, "Put him here."

He plopped the unconscious man into the chair, then shared a look with Steve as he took a deep breath just before Steve patted his shoulder. "Good job."

Bucky nodded, and then Steve and Sam went about restraining the man while Natasha began the second phase of the mission, which was recovering all of the data from their systems that she could.

It took him a moment to truly grasp how significant the last seven minutes of his life had been, but all he had to do was briefly recall the last mission to see how truly far he had come. Last time, Natasha had to step in and try to neutralize him when a flashback had pushed him over the edge and resulted in him killing their best source of information. He had then thrown her into a table and punched Steve in the face before fleeing in a state of confusion and distress.

But tonight, he had saved Natasha's life and prevented their target from fleeing without inflicting any serious injury, despite that man's purposeful attempted psychological manipulation. He hadn't lost it. He didn't feel like he was about to lose it. When he _had_ felt that familiar prickle of panic in the back of his mind, brought on by Johnson's words, he had been able to push it away and remain present, remain focused, and that was something that he would not have been able to do before.

It had been a long time coming, but for the first time, he finally felt like he had the upper hand, like he had truly seized some of the control back from the ghosts and the voices that had previously dictated his every move and haunted his every day. To be sure, he still had a long way to go, but this was exactly the success that he needed to keep going and keep pushing himself to do better and _get_ better.

It was obvious just by glancing at Steve that he recognized the significance of it all and was just as encouraged by it. Even Natasha seemed rather pleased. Bucky's therapist would be thrilled when he heard about this he next day.

He could think of one other person who would be even happier.

* * *

Breathing a huge sigh of relief, Summer set her phone down and sighed, "They're on their way back."

"Oh thank God," Pepper replied, sinking into her chair the same way that Summer was in the couch. "So everything went well? I'll kill Tony for not calling me right away."

"It sounds like everything went well," Summer said, quickly typing out a response and sending it. "How are they getting back? Do you know?"

"Tony's bringing them back on the jet, so they should be back soon," Pepper said, getting out her phone to call Tony.

"See? Now that wasn't so bad," Darcy said, gesturing to the two women poring over their phones now, much to David's disapproval. "Maybe I'm just used to it since it seems like all the awesome stuff happens when I'm not there."

Summer muttered a noncommittal noise in reply, then sent her third text in a row, which consisted of, _So... surprise_?

She had to wait five long minutes before he replied, first answering her first message. _I'm fine, everybody's fine. And you'll get it. _

She smiled to herself, quickly typing back, _Good. Hint_?

His reply came swiftly and was to the point. _Nope_.

She grinned more and tried to pester him into relenting and giving a hint, but he stopped answering, and she assumed it was due to being on the jet.

Waiting for him to come back now that she knew all was well and had some kind of surprise for her ended up being almost the hardest part of the whole day, albeit much more pleasant than the other parts had been. It got late and David got sleepy, so she busied herself with getting him to bed while she felt herself get less and less tired the later it got. She got a text just as David fell into an easy sleep, telling her that the jet had landed and they'd be back at the tower soon.

She couldn't wait to hear all about what had happened, or at least the parts that she was allowed to know for safety purposes, and just the idea that Bucky had gotten through the mission okay was enough to make her almost giddy with joy. It was something he needed, and she knew that.

She had a feeling that she would end up in bed rather soon once Bucky got back, so she changed into a tank top and shorts and then headed back out to wait in the living room. She didn't end up waiting for long.

She was grabbing a soda out of the fridge when the telltale sounds of the door unlocking and opening caught her attention, and she snapped her head up and made Darcy laugh by how fast she literally threw the soda back into the fridge and then all but ran out of the kitchen.

And since Bucky was the first one inside, she got to see her "surprise" right away. She couldn't help but break out into a smile and blush instantly at the sight of him, still in his full uniform, a hint of a smirk on his face as he walked to her with all of the swagger of someone who had just taken a few of the ghosts of his past and punched them in the face.

"Oh come on. That's not even fair," Darcy remarked as she peeked over the back of the couch, and it only made Summer smile more.

"Surprise," he said quietly as he reached her, and she actually giggled as he gave her a short but promising kiss.

She threw her arms around him before he could pull away, pulling him into a tight hug as she asked, "Are you hurt at all? Are you okay? What happened?"

"I'm fine," he assured her as he pulled away, and before he could answer her other questions, Steve walked by - notably _not_ in uniform, like everyone else - and answered for him.

"What happened was everything we wanted to happen," Steve told her with a smile. "And he did great."

She smiled at Steve and then turned back to Bucky, trying to hold back her inner urge to start gushing over how proud of him she was, not wanting to overwhelm him or look ridiculous in front of everyone else. She watched him smile back at her, then trail his eyes down briefly before quickly looking back up at her eyes, but she knew how to read him quite well by now, and she had to stifle a laugh over the fact that he had come back from a mission like... this.

Meanwhile, across the room, Tony was explaining to a relieved but annoyed Pepper that he had been sitting on his jet with just his Iron Man headgear on during the entire mission and was never in any real danger to begin with, and Natasha was directing Steve to go to her room where "the real work" would begin - and she didn't mean anything clever by that, either. Sam was already planted on the couch next to Darcy, and Summer was just about to suggest to Bucky that they retreat to his room just before Steve walked by again and told him, "I'll let you know what we find tonight."

Bucky nodded, and Summer turned to Steve as she asked, "Did you catch the guy who planned the attack here?"

"Yeah," Steve replied. "Well, we caught the guy we think was mainly behind it, but the main thing is now we have a good chance of figuring out who's supporting them and where else they are."

Summer nodded, briefly glancing up at Bucky when she felt his hand start playing with the ends of her hair behind her back, and at the unexpectedly pointed way that he was looking at her, she looked away and forced herself to focus on Steve as he spoke. It was nearly impossible, considering what Bucky was currently wearing and how she could _feel_ his gaze on her.

"And Bucky," Steve gestured with a smile, "caught the guy before he could get away. He also..."

Summer was thrilled to hear the play by play and beyond thrilled to hear the key roles that Bucky had played in the mission, but it was incredibly hard to pay full attention to what Steve was saying when Bucky's hand had left her hair to wander down her back, lower and lower until he shamelessly grabbed her backside through her shorts. She jumped and then looked at him in slight alarm, and he looked completely unapologetic, though he drew his hand back before anyone else could notice his... unusual handsiness.

"... So now me and Nat, and hopefully Tony, are gonna start digging through the files we recovered," Steve said, looking back at them after having looked away at just the right moment. "This part always takes the longest."

Summer nodded, feeling Bucky's hand entwine with hers, and though it was an innocent touch, the way that he subtly yanked at it told her how impatient he was getting.

"Anyway, I'll see you both later," Steve said, glancing at Bucky and raising his eyebrows knowingly before turning to head towards Nat's room.

As soon as Steve left, Summer looked up at Bucky fully intending to ask him what the heck had gotten into him, not that she minded, but before she could so much as breathe he leaned in and growled low enough for only her to hear, "My room. Now."

She couldn't agree more, blushing all over again as he turned her around and then gave her a slight push towards his room. She glanced back at him a few times as she walked there as quickly as she could, unable to get the grin off of her face, especially once she reached for his door only for him to cut her off and throw it open himself. He yanked her inside and then slammed the door shut, turning on the light and then locking the door before turning to face her with unabashedly hungry eyes.

She could do hardly anything but gape and stare at him, his intimidating figure covered in leather everywhere but his left arm, surely the picture of terror to some but to her, the picture of something else entirely. But she only had a moment to stare and ponder these things, because in the blink of an eye he had grabbed her and kissed her with all of the pent up fury she had seen in his eyes while Steve had been talking to her. Suddenly they were tumbling about, crashing into the wall first and then his dresser, which he held her against as his mouth ravaged hers and her hands searched through the leather on his chest for something, anything, to hold on to. She managed to find what she was looking for in the holsters on his shoulders, and as she grabbed on to them, he picked her up and set her on top of the dresser, breaking their kiss long enough for her to gasp and ask, "What _is_ this? Not that I'm complaining, but is it like leftover adrenaline or -"

He nodded, pulling her to the very edge of the dresser so that she was pressed against him fully, and he growled between hard kisses to her neck, "The whole way back, all I could think about was coming back here and what I'd do to you once I got you alone."

She closed her eyes and let out a shuddering breath, then as he kissed further down her neck, let one of her hands move to his hair as she asked, "... Really? After beating up a bunch of bad guys, _this_ is what you wanted to do?"

Then he pulled away from her neck and met her gaze, and in his eyes she could see it all, the relief that he felt at the mission having been a success, the leftover energy and adrenaline that he needed to burn off, and underneath all of that franticness, the love that she would never take for granted seeing there.

In that brief quiet moment, she brought her hands to his face and softly held it as she told him something that she needed to say. "I am _incredibly_ proud of you." His eyes softened, just a little bit, and she added, "You are seriously... the strongest man I've ever known."

She watched him swallow and fail to find words to say back to her, and that was fine, because she had just needed him to know how happy she was that the day had gone as it had and that he had given himself the chance to prove how far he had come.

Before he found a word to say himself, she pulled him close and kissed him, then let her hands drop back to his holsters, where they gripped tightly and pulled until his chest was against hers. He kissed her back a little less crazed than he had a moment ago, but the heat quickly built back up, and she broke away to get a few more words in before he took away her ability to think or speak at all.

"One more thing," she smiled, letting her hands run down his chest, the leather rough on her palms in an entirely pleasant way, "As much as I loved the farm fantasy thing... I think I might love this even more." He grinned in reply, his eyes shifting to reflect what she could only describe as shameless _dirtiness_, and she added, "Not that I have even the slightest clue how to get any of it off..."

His smile grew just before he kissed her again, and then as she squealed a little in surprise, he picked her back up and turned them around, carrying her to his bed and then gently tossing her into it as she took a moment to mentally photograph what he looked like as he kneeled on the bed, moving towards her. His face was the picture of many things, love, nearly overwhelming lust, affection, all of that lingering adrenaline that was coursing through his veins, while the rest of him might have told a different story to anyone else. She knew that he wasn't fond of the uniform, sheerly due to the staggering number of horrible things that he had done while in it, and that he was willing to wear it here, for her, was ultimately a significant sign of trust that she would never, ever forget.

He kissed her fiercely, but he didn't push her down to her back. Instead, he pulled her to sit up fully as he sat back on his knees, and after he broke the kiss to take a breath, he took one of her hands in his and then guided it to his side, where he showed her how to undo the first part of the uniform. She refused to think about how different this routine must have been for him before, refused to wonder if they had let him dress and undress himself, or if they had taken away that dignity from him too. Instead, she just focused on the mutual trust of the moment, and the way that he looked at her and kissed her as she slowly stripped the suit away. In that moment, the present was all that mattered, and he was home, which meant that she was too.

She was happy to give him something to come home to, and even happier to have given him a home in the first place.

* * *

Considerably later, Bucky chuckled breathlessly as the woman lying unmoving in his arms made a high-pitched whining sound, the sort that one might make when they didn't plan on moving for roughly the next week.

For his part, he finally felt calm again, finally able to lay still and simply breathe now that the previously frantic energy had found its outlet. But while he had envisioned simply coming back home and wrecking his room with her help, as always, she had found a way to make it mean so much more in the end. He didn't know how he could possibly be surprised anymore - nothing was ever _simply_ anything with her. It was always more, so much more than he could put into words, and that's where he was lucky - she always had enough words for the both of them, and more often than she realized, the words that were just right.

"Still awake?" he asked, his voice coming out a bit more hoarse than he'd expected.

She stirred slightly in his arms, her cheek stuck to his chest and her hair tangled over her back and within his fingers. "Awake, yeah... also delirious..."

He smiled and brought his free hand to her face, tilting her head back so he could look in her eyes and brush her hair behind her ear. "Sorry."

"You always say that and never mean it," she groaned, stretching out her legs despite being tangled with his, eventually gathering the strength to sit up. He let her hair slip through his fingers as she did, and he shook his head with a slight quirk of his lips at the way she pulled the sheet up over herself just to sit there and comb her fingers through her mess of hair and pull it behind her head. He would never understand her thing with the sheets.

He reached out to her hair and twirled the ends around his fingers, earning lighthearted protests from her as she would then have more to untangle, and after a bit, he gave up and closed his eyes briefly, not quite ready for sleep yet despite his now-relaxed state. Something was nagging at his brain, a long-forgotten habit that he'd once had but now only cared for at select times, and it seemed that this was one of those times.

While Summer continued to fight with her hair, Bucky rolled over towards his nightstand and opened its single drawer, grabbing the same pack of cigarettes from it that Steve had given him months ago in the hopes of smoking jogging a few more of his memories. He hadn't touched them since the first night he had given it a try, but the thought had been back in his head ever since he had read the story Summer wrote him for his birthday, where she had mentioned the smoking as an unexpected but potent turn-on.

He slipped one between his lips and then grabbed the lighter he had stashed inside the pack, and as soon as he flicked it to life, Summer looked behind her in curiosity, and it was with great satisfaction that he watched her jaw drop. The sheet dropped as well, and she didn't even notice, too busy staring at him as he tossed the lighter back into the drawer and inhaled while he took a satisfying look at her chest, then met her gaze.

"First the suit... and now this. You're trying to kill me, aren't you?" she asked, watching in seeming fascination as he blew out one breath, then took another long draw from the cigarette. He simply shrugged, which seemed to outrage her even more, and then he let his eyes drop down her body again as he continued to casually torture her.

Sheet forgotten for the moment, she laid down next to him without taking her eyes off of him once, and he shifted closer to her as she propped her head up on her hand and said, "I could seriously watch you do this all day. Not that I want you to do it all day, because it could probably still give even you cancer, but still..."

He turned on his side, mirroring her, cigarette between his fingers as he blew smoke out aimed away from her face, and with a curious gleam in his eyes, he held the thing between them and looked at her questioningly. She looked down at it, then back at him as she smiled nervously.

"Uh..."

"Just once," he said quietly, lifting it closer to her lips, and she blushed like he was asking her to do something seriously scandalous.

She seemed torn for a moment before her eyes met his, and then she gave in with a chuckled, "Fine."

Then he shifted closer slightly, and she watched him carefully as he watched her while she parted her lips slightly, just before he gently placed the cigarette between them. He never let go of it fully, and she kept her eyes locked with his until she actually puffed the thing, at which point she immediately began coughing and sputtering. He couldn't help but laugh, switching the cigarette to his free hand so that he could rub her back while she kept coughing.

"I'm sorry," he smiled as she looked up at him briefly before coughing again. "You okay?"

"Yeah," she said, finally getting the last couple coughs out, "but that is _awful_. Just _awful. _How do you enjoy that?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Just because it's familiar, I guess."

"Well... I guess I'll just be happy watching, then," she conceded. "Because watching you do it is a million times better than _that_."

He grinned and then couldn't help but point out, "I'm pretty sure you didn't even inhale."

"... Well, even more reason then," she replied, widening her eyes for emphasis as she laid back down and went back to watching him. "Guess I wouldn't have cut it as a glamorous lady back in your day smoking cigarettes in those long things they used to stick them in."

He just gave her a look and replied, "You would have been just as perfect as you are now."

She gave him a look back that she always did when he made remarks like that, a cross between disbelief and delight, and she came back with, "... Except I would probably be dead by now, so..."

He smiled and shook his head a little, then rolled over to put out the rest of his cigarette on the closest thing he had to an ashtray, which was an empty cup, and then he turned back over to pull her back into his arms and kiss her as he started to feel the familiar pull of sleep tickle the back of his eyelids.

OOO

Meanwhile, back in Natasha's room, she was sitting at her desk running through a scan of the first set of files that she had retrieved earlier that night, while Steve watched and tried to learn from her about the finer points of the technological side of what they did and Tony lounged in a chair while JARVIS did his portion of the work for him. So far, she hadn't gotten much of a chance to see if they had any good intelligence in their possession, but something had caught her eye as she had watched the files speed through the decryption process - a few video files, which was relatively unusual for this sort of thing.

While Steve and Tony began bickering about something that she wasn't paying attention to, Natasha located the first video file and then played it. Within the first few seconds, her eyes widened slightly and she hit the pause button.

"Steve."

"Yeah?" he asked, ignoring Tony with a burdened sigh.

"... You're gonna need to see this."

* * *

"I thought you were tired," Bucky murmured with a slight grin as Summer nipped at his neck, sliding on top of him beneath the sheets and preventing him from falling asleep quite yet.

"I was," she said, lifting her head and smiling as she looked down at him, "but then you started smoking and you _know_ what that does to me."

Then she kissed him, lazily and sweetly but with a clear intent, and he was content to lie back and watch her do with him what she would, but the noisy buzzing of his phone on the nightstand interrupted them.

"Ignore it," Bucky told her, pulling her back down to him and kissing her briefly before the phone buzzed again and she pulled away, sighing and grabbing the phone before handing it to him.

She sat back above his hips and waited while he opened the text from Steve, frowning as he read it.

_Found something in the files. Need you to come and see._

He had an instant sinking feeling as soon as he read those words, something that served to ruin the mood rather quickly and set his phone down as he looked up at Summer and said, "Steve wants me to come and see something."

"Oh. Okay," she said, looking only a little disappointed as she moved off of him, sitting down next to where he had laid as he reluctantly got up from the bed. Still feeling like whatever it was Steve wanted him to see, it couldn't possibly be good, Bucky got dressed quickly and then glanced back to Summer as she pulled her tank top back on and asked quietly, "Should I just... stay here, or..."

Bucky shrugged, not really thinking much of it as he replied, "It probably won't take long. Just come with me."

"Okay," she agreed, and then a few moments later, he was leading her out of his room and down the hall, where the door to Nat's room was open and he could hear her and Steve talking softly. When he got there, he peeked inside slowly, seeing a frown on Steve's face and, upon glancing at Tony across the room, sheer boredom on his, but Steve quickly noticed Bucky's arrival and motioned for him to come in. Bucky did, only vaguely noticing how Summer remained near the doorway, unsure of whether she should actually be there or not.

"What did you find?" he asked Steve, looking at the computer Natasha was sitting but seeing nothing revealing on there at first glance.

"When I leaked SHIELD's files to the Internet," Natasha began, "a lot of them got pulled within a day or two. Mostly HYDRA's. Whatever wasn't saved before then by a handful of people just disappeared. I think I just got most of them back, and then some." When Bucky gave her a look that told her that still didn't tell him much, she added, "There's files on you, including at least one video."

_Now_ he understood. He looked from her to Steve, then at the computer as he asked quietly, "... What is it?"

"Nothing you're going to like," Steve replied.

"Have you seen it already?"

Steve shook his head. "Just the first few seconds."

Behind them, Tony had sat up a little straighter, not looking as much like he was about to fall asleep, and though Bucky didn't notice yet, Summer had overhead and now had half her body through the doorway.

"... You don't have to watch it," Steve said, "but I thought maybe..."

"Just play it," Bucky said, eyes fixed on the screen, and as Natasha wheeled her chair around to do so, Tony leaned over the arm of his chair to get a better look himself.

Natasha hit the button, and the first thing Bucky saw was something that he never wanted to see again: himself, sitting in that damned chair they used to take his memories, in some fluorescent-lit room, probably deep in the bowels of one of HYDRA's hideouts. His hair wasn't quite as long as it had been when he had fought Steve the previous year, and the quality of the video was poor enough to give away that it was older. This was confirmed when Alexander Pierce entered the frame, looking visibly younger as he began speaking.

Suddenly, Bucky realized that Summer was now inside the room, and staring at the computer with visible horror in her eyes.

"Turn it off," he blurted to Natasha, who immediately paused it. He then turned to Summer, who snapped her eyes up to his and seemed at a loss for what to say until he gently took her by the arm and led her back towards the doorway, where he half-whispered, "I don't want you to see this."

"Why?" she asked with slightly wide eyes. "I know what they did to you, you've told me before and -"

"I know, but seeing it is different," he replied, his eyes pleading with hers. "I don't want you to... look at me like I know you will if you see it."

"I'm not gonna look at you differently, I promise," she said earnestly. "It's just... I mean, I don't _want_ to see it, but I feel like I kinda _need_ to, you know?" When he remained unconvinced, she sighed and added, "I haven't known you forever like Steve. I've got a lot to catch up on with you and I just... I just want to understand it all, even the horrible stuff."

He still didn't want her to see it, but he realized that there was no real point in fighting her on it. She had trusted him with her past and he knew that he could fully trust her with his, regardless of how much he didn't want to. She already knew the worst of what he had done; at the end of the day, perhaps all this would do would indeed help her to understand it all better.

And so, he relented, nodding to her and then walking back to where he had stood a moment ago, this time with Summer standing next to him as he motioned to Natasha to play it. She did, and the room fell to utter silence as the video ran.

It was five minutes long, and while the sound was slightly muffled and the quality a bit grainy, he could clearly hear what was being said and see what was transpiring. In a scene similar to one that had happened not so long ago, Bucky sat there post-mission, confusion evident on his blank face as he mumbled to himself over and over, too low to understand at first. Then Pierce came and sat down on a stool in front of him.

"_You only completed half of your mission_," Pierce pointed out, and the sound of his voice ceased Bucky's mumbles. "_But, luckily, the primary target died from his injuries._"

With lost, fearful, confused eyes, Bucky stared at the man for a moment before saying, "_Howard Stark_."

Tony shot out of his chair so fast it nearly toppled over. Natasha's hand hovered near the pause button as she looked up at Bucky and then Tony, but a look from Steve stopped her from turning it off.

The pain in Bucky's head was coming back. The scene in the video felt more and more familiar, and he knew that in just seconds he would remember it for himself, and he didn't want to. The memory of killing Tony's parents was one that he had hoped he would never recover, but now, to his horror, that was exactly what he was doing.

Back on the screen, which Tony's glare was burning a hole through, Pierce replied to Bucky with, "_That was your primary target. You hesitated_."

"_I knew him_," came Bucky's quiet, almost broken reply. "_He was... different. Older. but... I knew him_."

"_I want you to listen to yourself_," Pierce said, a false sense of gentleness to his tone. "_Stark was seventy-four years old. How could you have known him when he was younger?_"

Back in the present, Bucky watched his younger self's face twist slightly, confusion growing, and he could almost feel the pain that must have been throbbing in his head, trying to remember why and how he had known Howard, how it could have even been possible when he was seemingly so much younger than Howard. The most sickening thing was how he looked to Pierce for guidance, as if he trusted him to tell the truth and take away the confusion.

"_Remember what I told you_," Pierce said. "_You were a soldier. You served your country. But you had an accident, and now your memory isn't what it was. You need to trust me on this. Sometimes you might think you recognize someone, but you don't."_

"_But I did,_" Bucky argued.

Then someone else entered the frame, a man in a suit that Bucky didn't recognize. He told Pierce that this approach would never work, but Pierce waved him off, then turned back to Bucky and said, "_You didn't_."

On the monitors surrounding Bucky, the numbers had begun to rise and beep noisily in the video. His inner panic was growing, confusion reaching a critical point, and Pierce said, "_If you don't calm down and listen to me, you won't like what happens next. You have to cooperate_."

He seemed to snap then, fists clenching and eyes losing their blankness as a wild gleam took over, and then Pierce made a motion with his hands. A team of armed men descended, and chaos erupted for one very short moment. Bucky, in his confused, cornered state, snapped one man's neck and punched another so hard he went flying into the wall off-screen, but it was an ultimately pointless battle, as the remaining men shoved him down and the restraints on the chair rose up and locked him in place. He fought them with everything he had, trying to rip himself free of the restraints, all but howling with the effort of it, all while Pierce merely stood up and slipped his hands into his pockets, sighed, and then muttered "Start over," with all of the annoyance of someone who had ordered a meal only to receive it wrongly made and have to send it back to be fixed.

He fought the rest of the process every inch of the way. Two men had to hold his head still while another tried to shove a bite guard in his mouth, and at one point he bit the man - quite savagely, if the blood dripping from the man's hand was any indication - and then another had to take over.

But there was no stopping it, and when the halo-like contraption fixed itself on his head, there was no pause before it went to work, ripping his memories from his grasp and making him scream in pain, over and over. The video dragged on and on, until the screams eventually stopped and his fists unclenched. The thing detached from his hand and retracted back into the air, while he laid there unmoving, eyes closed and unconscious, seemingly forever at the mercy of the men who controlled him.

And then, the video was over.

Feeling suddenly sick to his stomach, Bucky stared at the blank screen for a long moment. He wished that he hadn't watched it. He wished that nobody had ever found it. His brain was working through what he had just seen, trying to fill the holes within his memory and bring something to the surface that he wanted to stay buried, but there was no fighting it.

First he looked at Summer, who was still staring at the computer screen herself, arms crossed over her chest and visibly trying not to cry, but he could see that the tears were falling anyway. The only other time he had ever seen her look so devastated and horrified was when David's life had been seconds away from being lost.

Natasha had nothing to say, no words of wit, nothing but her own subtly horrified and silent, but not surprised, expression. Behind her, Steve was not crying or staring in horror, as Bucky might have expected. Instead, he looked utterly murderous. He wasn't sure that he had ever seen Steve look so angry.

But Bucky's mistake was daring to glance at Tony, who was the single most shocked person in the room. The minute Bucky looked at him, all he could see was Howard's face, and the memory that had been floating to the surface finally broke through.

_The night was dark, rainy, and cold, and the routine was the same: complete mission, report back to headquarters, wait for further instructions. He stood in the middle of a winding road, weapon ready, calmly awaiting the two headlights that would signal the arrival of his target. _

_When they arrived, and when he saw the lights of the car, he didn't move. He didn't fire a single shot. He didn't need to, because as soon as the lights illuminated his dark figure standing there directly in the path of the car, it swerved to miss him and went off the road, then crashed into a tree. _

_As smoke rose from the crunched hood of the car, he walked almost causally slowly towards the wreckage, going for the passenger side first. Once there, he shoved his metal fist through the window, shattering it, and then snapped the neck of a woman without so much as looking before moving on to the driver's side, where the window was already shattered and the door was dangling off at one corner. _

_He tore the door off all the way, then grasped the neck of his bleeding primary target, dragging him halfway out of the car and putting a pistol to his head. The older man coughed, cried out in pain, and then opened his eyes just as Bucky was about to pull the trigger. _

_He would have shot him right then if the man's eyes hadn't widened in what looked a lot like... recognition. But that couldn't be right. _

_"B-... Barnes?"_

_The man was in shock, incredulous, staring like he was looking at a ghost, an impossible ghost. Bucky's finger on the trigger loosened, and he stared back with wide, confused eyes. _

_"How are you... how..."_

_He didn't know why he was hesitating, listening to this man mumble nonsensically. Bucky tightened his grip on the gun and shoved it at his target's temple._

_"Bucky," the man gasped. "I don't know how it's you but... you know me, Bucky..."_

_The man then sputtered and coughed up a mouthful of blood, and Bucky dropped the gun to his side as sudden familiarity flashed in his mind's eye. _

_This man seemed to know him, and had called him by a name, an actual name. Was that really his name? Did he really have one? He didn't think he had one..._

_But in the end, it meant nothing. The man took his last breath right then, injured severely enough from the the wreck itself to die without the aid of a bullet. Bucky stared at the seemingly familiar face before he snapped out of it, shoved the now-limp body back into the car, and then looked down at the blood covering his hands as one question swirled through his now-aching, confused mind. _

_Did he really know him?_

As the memory faded, Bucky stifled what would have been a loud gasp and opened his eyes. He wasn't standing anymore, to his slight confusion, but was sitting in the seat that Steve had previously been in. Summer was on one side of him and Steve was on the other, both looking at him in concern as he made his way back to the present.

Across the room, Tony had not budged from where he had stood, and he was staring at Bucky with the same stunned, almost blank expression, like Tony was seeing him for the first time and suddenly understood far more than he ever had before.

"You okay?" Steve asked quietly, and Bucky nodded, though he wasn't sure if he really was.

Sometimes the flashbacks brought with them flickers of madness, anger that he couldn't control and sometimes utter despair, but some, like this, brought mostly a deep sense of pure _sadness_.

He couldn't remember much of Howard from back when he had known him, but there were occasional flashes of the man. Yet now, his clearest memory of him was of murdering his wife and causing his death, and of his last words being Bucky's name.

He didn't resent the concern of Steve and Summer, not in the least, but his need to get away from everyone in the room was eclipsing everything else. He got up from the chair, mumbled something even he wasn't sure of, and then headed straight for the door.

But something made him stop just before he would have passed Tony. He met the other man's still-stunned gaze, and before he could stop himself or think over what he was about to say, he blurted shakily, "I'm sorry." Then he bolted before Tony could so much as blink in reply.

He went to his room on autopilot, where he closed the door and then slid down against it, sitting on the floor and staring into space as he slowly came to grips with what he had seen and what it had triggered within his memory.

As much as he wanted to wish it all away, to forget it all and shove the memory back into the deep, dark pits that lay beneath his consciousness, he knew that he could not. He could not gain the good memories without also taking the bad.

If only the bad wasn't so utterly, unthinkably, shamefully horrible.

* * *

"Pierce said he hesitated. He said that, right?"

It was the first thing Tony said after Bucky had left the room. Summer looked up from the floor, still trying to mentally work through what she had seen, and her eyes flickered to Steve as he looked at Tony and replied, "Yes. He said that."

The slight edge in Steve's tone took Summer by surprise. It looked like it had surprised Tony too.

"Do you understand now what I've been telling you since the start of all this?" Steve asked, gesturing to the computer.

Natasha looked back and forth between the two men before quietly saying, "Steve..."

"_He_ didn't kill Howard," Steve said. "You don't blame a gun for killing someone, you blame the person that shot it."

"Yeah, kinda get that now, thanks," Tony replied, eyes still wide with horror. "Actually, I always got it, to a point - why do you think I've been letting him stay here, at my own risk? One call to the FBI and I'm in the slammer for harboring a fugitive."

"But you've never stopped blaming him," Steve said, and Summer was pretty sure that Steve wasn't actually angry at Tony, but rather using him to get out his anger that was really aimed at someone who was dead and gone. "And you make your little smart-aleck comments and treat him like he's a loose cannon about to go off at any minute when all he's done is prove himself, over and over, especially today and when he saved Pepper's life, and -"

"I'm sorry," Tony squinted and shook his head, "what are we even arguing about? I'm just as horrified as anybody else would be after what we just saw."

"Are you?" Steve asked. "Because he'll never say it out loud but he's never gonna forgive himself until you forgive him first."

"And I'm never gonna look at him and not see my mom and dad laying in their coffins," Tony retorted, matching Steve's raised tone of voice and yelling back at him. "Would you honestly be any different if it was you?"

"You're damn right I would be different because -"

"Oh my God, _stop_!"

Summer had honestly thought that she had said it in her head, but apparently she had said it out loud, because now everybody was staring at her and the room was dead quiet again.

Well, so long as she had the floor...

"You're not actually mad at him," she said to Steve regarding Tony, "and you might not be any different if you were in his shoes."

"Thank you," Tony said, gesturing to Summer, and she fought the urge to roll her eyes.

"I think we're all biased one way or another," Summer muttered. "But it's pretty obvious to anyone, after _that_, who the real monsters are. I might be just a civilian who knows nothing about any of this, but... I know _that_."

Then the room fell quiet again, and Summer was just about to leave and go check on Bucky when Tony asked nobody in particular, "How can he walk and talk and... function after... that? I mean, that happened over and over, right?"

"He didn't function at first," Summer replied. "It took him awhile before he could even eat."

"He gonna lose it now?" Tony asked.

"I don't think so, but I should probably go and... check on him," she said, glancing at Steve one more time and finding some of the anger gone from his face now. He met her gaze and nodded faintly, and she then left the room, hoping there would be no more pointless fighting after she left.

As much as she had prepared herself for what the video would contain, there was really no way to fully prepare for what she had seen. It was one thing to imagine something, to hear it described in words, but it was another entirely to see it with your own eyes, to hear one of the people you loved most in the world scream in pain and terror as other people hurt them and stripped away their very identity. It hurt, it pissed her off, and it would haunt her for the rest of her days. It was like a glimpse into his nightmares, except it had been a real moment of his life, and it was horrifying in a way that mere words could never be.

Now she walked to his door, and after only a second's hesitation, she knocked on it softly. She didn't get a reply at all, but she thought she heard shuffling near the door, so she slowly opened it and peeked inside.

She found him sitting against the wall next to the door, staring ahead of him, and she gently closed the door behind her after she walked inside. Then she knelt down in front of him, looking him in the eye and seeing the far-away look in them, but no loss of control or anything that made her fear that he would, in Tony's words, "lose it". He was still there. He was just trying to deal with it all.

"Come on," she said quietly, taking his left hand in hers and slowly standing up. It took him a moment but he eventually looked up at her, then let her help pull him to his feet and lead him to his bed.

She got in first, then pulled him down to lay with her. He didn't a say a word and followed her cues without a second thought, letting her hold him so that his head was on her chest and her fingers were gently and soothingly brushing through his hair. His arm was curled along her side, holding her as closely as he could.

"You remembered, didn't you?" Summer asked quietly. She felt him nod against her, and she closed her eyes as she replied, "I'm sorry."

The room was quiet, save for the sound of his rhythmic breathing against her chest and the rustle of her fingertips in his hair, at least until he muttered, "I wish you hadn't seen it."

"I wish it hadn't happened to you," she replied.

But, neither thing could be undone, and there wasn't a thing either one of them could do about it. She wouldn't change having watched the video, however. As heart-wrenching as it was, it was a part of his history, and she wasn't here to just share the good times with him. The bad times, which he'd had more than anyone's fair share of, couldn't be ignored and shoved away forever.

And the less that he had to deal with those bad things on his own, the better. She'd take it all from him and put it on her own shoulders if she could.

But since she couldn't, this had to suffice - holding him close, almost as if he were a child, and simply being there, reminding him that he wasn't alone anymore and that she understood.

Before, it wouldn't have been enough, and though he would have been grateful and soaked up her affection, he wouldn't have slept. But tonight, after a day full of dizzying ups and downs, she eventually felt his eyelids flutter shut against her skin, and his breathing evened out as he fell asleep. It took her a little longer to fall asleep herself, given that she saw him strapped to that chair and screaming every time she closed her eyes, but with time, she followed him into slumber as well.

For all of the pain and the unwanted memories, it was still progress. He was getting better, and she was understanding him better. For then, that was enough.

**A/N: This chapter has been a loooong time coming, and it's an important step that I am quite happy to get out of the way :) I also have to give credit where credit is due for how the Howard Stark situation was dealt with here, and what happened was, Mooka333, who has left this story some seriously amazing reviews in the past and is just freaking amazing (and author of a Bucky/OC story that I adore and all of you should read if you haven't already), and I were talking about various things and she mentioned the Tumblr theory that maybe Bucky didn't fully directly kill Howard but instead was standing in the middle of the road, like when he first tried to kill Nick Fury, and Howard swerved to avoid him and crashed. Talking about that, then discussing the matter with midnightwings96 and her coming up with the flashback idea, turned into what you just read lol. Also, to expand on the Pierce bit, I've always sort of imagined in my head that Bucky was sort of forgotten about by the Soviets (or whoever had "custody" of him last before Pierce, could have been Americans for that matter actually, but purely guessing here lol) after a certain number of decades, and then when Pierce took the helm at HYDRA, he took over as "master" and tried to change how the Winter Soldier was both used and manipulated. Maybe trying a falsely kinder and gentler approach at first, like how I tried to describe above, and then once that didn't work, then he shifted towards the more openly cruel manner we saw in TWS, which, in my opinion, is likely the reason why Bucky just submitted to the torture and mind wiping without even trying to put up a fight. I imagine that over time he fought the process less and less, not wanting to face the consequences, and then became what we saw, which was submissive but clearly terrified. I don't know. I'm just making this up as I go lol, but... that's what I've always thought. **

**ANYWAY. I apologize for ending the chapter on such a sad note after most of it being pretty upbeat and happy with babies being born and Bucky getting his confidence back in himself, but... yeah. I'm mean like that :) Thank you all as always for being AMAZING and sticking with me week after week :D last week's 35,000 word extravaganza was truly ridiculous lol but you all had a great response to it (to both the chapter and to Fire and Whiskey, which I am still incredibly happy about :D) so THANK YOU all SO MUCH :D This week is another ridiculously long chapter, but we're getting closer to certain parts of the story that I have been looking forward to for a LONG time, so I am excited and definitely urge you all to stick with me :D thanks again and see you all next week :D **


	24. Chapter 24

One month later, Bucky was leaning against a kitchen counter and watching in mild boredom as the tower's resident bickering old married non-couple stood on opposite sides of the table, looking over plans for something and squabbling almost instantly as soon as one of them had said one word. Bucky merely drank his coffee and watched, pretty much used to this by now regardless of the mild entertainment value.

"No, no listen - look, I brought the prototype and everything," Tony said, holding up a gray cuff-looking thing, which Steve just half-glared at. "Now I know you're set in your ways like a typical geezer, but -"

"It's not that," Steve rolled his eyes. "But I _am_ used to holding my shield a certain way and changing that would be -"

"Better?" Tony guessed. "I told you I would upgrade your suit."

"And I told you I was fine with it the way it is."

"And that's your first problem," Tony said, stepping around the table carrying the cuff. "Here, just let me show you how it works. You'll think it's real swell, trust me."

Giving up with a sigh, Steve held out his arm while Tony clamped the thing around his forearm, and Bucky turned around to dump his cup into the sink.

"Then you just click this here, which would go right here near your wrist, and then your shield comes to you, just like..."

Then, after Bucky had rinsed out his cup and began walking towards the hallway, he passed the table and then a sudden magnetic pull rapidly ripped him by his left arm off of his feet and to his left, where Steve was sitting. As he scrambled back up to stand, he realized with faint shock that his arm was stuck to Steve's, or at least to the magnetic cuff that Tony had just put on it, leading him to almost exclaim, "What the hell?!"

Tony just looked at the sight before him and raised an eyebrow. "Huh. Forgot his arm was made of the same stuff. I'll have to recalibrate since this would probably happen a lot."

Bucky tried to yank the arm away, but it wouldn't budge, and Steve looked at Tony in mild alarm and said, "Turn it off!"

"Right," Tony said, pushing the button that was supposed to disable the thing, but when nothing happened, he just scratched at his head and said, "Well then. How about you two come down to my Ironcave and I'll see about... detaching you. Unless you don't mind this. Honestly this looks like the start to a bad comedy."

When Tony got nothing but glares from both men, he shrugged and said, "Follow me."

Bucky looked at Steve when he heard the man sigh, then try to yank free a couple times himself, but it was no use. Then as Tony started to walk away, Steve glanced at Bucky and then smiled and said, "Well, this is a new one."

As unnerving as it was to be literally stuck to someone else, Bucky gave Steve a half-amused look in reply and then they started walking, awkwardly at first and then even more awkwardly as they tried to compensate for the other as they followed Tony to the elevator.

"Your arm is _heavy_," Steve muttered as he looked down at their arms, as if he hadn't known that fact until that particular moment.

Bucky shot him a look. "I never noticed."

"Now, kids," Tony said, stepping into the elevator as they followed. "Don't make me break out the 'get along' shirt."

"Very funny," Steve muttered once they were inside and the elevator doors closed. Bucky tried pulling his arm away a few more times, uselessly of course, and Steve sighed and said to him, "Well, at least I'm stuck to you and not someone else."

"Like me?" Tony piped up. "That would be fun. You know what would be an even better bad comedy? First he gets stuck and then I, in my suit, come flying out of nowhere and get stuck too."

"That sounds more like a nightmare than a comedy," Steve replied.

"Depends on who's writing it," Tony shrugged. "For example, if girls on the Internet wrote it, we'd all end up making out in the end. Or worse. Probably a lot worse."

"Oh for the love of God, Stark," Steve half-wailed, face scrunching up as the elevator door opened. Bucky had more of a quietly uninterested initial reaction until he saw Steve's, at which point he started laughing due to how easy it was to make him squirm uncomfortably.

"Well, _have_ you Googled yourself lately? And have you heard of fanart? Seriously, look it up one day, 'Steve Rogers fanart'," Tony said as he walked out in front of them, leading them out of the elevator and down a mostly bare hallway. "Good stuff."

"I somehow doubt that," Steve muttered, and Bucky, putting the terms together in his head, wondered what exactly might be floating around the Internet. His inner jerk made a mental note to check someday, for the sake of torturing Steve. Then Steve narrowed his eyes and asked, "Wait - why did _you_ look that up?"

"Curiosity?" Tony shrugged, glancing over his shoulder. "But no. Some of it's really great. Impressive stuff. And then some of it..."

Bucky watched Steve's face grow ever more concerned. "What?"

Reaching yet another elevator, this one protected by about a thousand different security measures, Tony turned around briefly and said with a wave of his hand, "Apparently... a sizable portion of your artsy fans think you'd prefer being on the _bottom_."

Concern gave way to instant but very brief embarrassment before Steve's eyes grew wider and he all but demanded, "_Wait_. Then _who_ is on top?"

"... Not answering that one," Tony replied as they all boarded the elevator.

Though he wondered the same thing as Steve, Bucky kept quiet, still highly annoyed with the arm situation, glancing up when Steve sighed and muttered, "Sometimes I _still_ feel like I'm not ready for this century."

"Embrace it," Tony suggested. "One day I found a drawing of me tied up and half naked, being seduced by Loki of all people."

Steve stared for a moment before asking, "_Why_?"

"Why did I find it or why did they draw it?"

"... Both?"

Tony shrugged as the doors opened. "So here we are. Welcome to my playground."

Subject thankfully changed, Bucky looked up as they stepped into a very large, mostly circular space, that looked very much like a mad engineering genius' secret lair. Tony's famous suits were housed inside glass cases that lined the walls, and equipment that surpassed state of the art was everywhere. As Tony walked through the room, monitors and holographic displays sprang to life, and it really was like stepping directly into the future.

Steve was equally somewhat dazed by it all, but maybe a bit less impressed, and regardless of their reactions, Tony quickly steered them to two chairs that he had thrown together and said, "Sit down and get comfy. I'll get you pried apart in a minute."

Sitting as directed with sighs exhaled at nearly the same time, Bucky and Steve both floundered for a moment on what to do with their arms and where to put them while they sat there. Eventually they decided on just letting them sit there between them, almost making it appear to the casual observer as if they were holding hands, and as Tony rummaged around some feet away, Steve said, "I hope we never meet a bad guy who can magically control metal. We'd both be screwed."

"Good thing somebody like that doesn't exist," Bucky pointed out, though if he really thought about it, who was to say someone like that wasn't out there somewhere? The world was certainly weird enough now.

Bucky then felt his arm jerk up and to the side, and he looked at Steve to find him at fault after having reached to itch his nose with the affected hand. "Sorry," Steve muttered, putting the hand back down.

Then Bucky had an alarming thought. "What if he can't un-stick us?" he asked.

"Well, I mean, I'm sure that worst case, he can just cut the cuff off me. And then get it off you somehow." Then Steve paused. "Unless he stalls on purpose for the sake of torturing us."

"Heard that," Tony called over his shoulder. "Have a little faith, Cap."

Bucky tried to be optimistic, unwilling to imagine what might happen if Natasha came sauntering in and decided to take advantage of the situation by making out with Steve while Bucky was forced to sit there an inch away and try not to cringe.

But someone very different ended up sauntering in instead, behind Pepper, who was the only other person in the world with equally unlimited access as Tony. Bucky watched as Pepper walked in and made Tony immediately stop what he was doing and ask why in the world she had come down here in the middle of the day, but Bucky didn't hear Pepper's answer because he was too busy grinning softly at Summer. She was trailing behind the CEO in her black pencil skirt and light purple blouse with her hair up behind her head, looking around with a wide-eyed, childlike wonder, and it took her a full few minutes before she even noticed that Bucky and Steve were even there.

"Oh! Hi," she smiled, coming closer to them and then pausing as her eyes went to their stuck-together arms. "Are you two holding hands?"

"No," Bucky half-smiled, lifting up the arm to show her the magnet situation.

"_Oh_," she laughed, shaking her head at herself. "That makes more sense. I think?"

"Stark was trying out an upgrade to my suit when this happened," Steve shrugged.

"I mean I wasn't gonna judge if you guys decided to, you know, hold hands for awhile, for some reason, but... anyway," she smiled, visibly making herself stop rambling. "I can't believe I'm down here."

"Why are you down here?" Bucky asked, half-aware of how Tony and Pepper were still mildly bickering behind Summer.

"Well, Deanna, Pepper's actual assistant, had to go home early today, so I'm sort of filling in and doing the actual important stuff today for the first time," Summer explained quietly. "Which is just crazy because I was already stressed out with David's birthday being tomorrow and Paul getting here in a few hours, which oh, by the way, if I'm not off by then, can one of you make sure and let him in when he gets here because he's got his new baby with him and..."

As Summer kept going a mile a minute, Bucky smiled at her nervous energy until he felt his arm being jerked again, and he looked at Steve to find the man about to itch his face _again_ just before he said with a groan, "I'm sorry, I keep forgetting."

"Not to worry, I'm back," Tony said, stepping in front of Summer and then giving her a look like he had just noticed she was there. "I never gave you clearance for my super secret superhero supercave."

Summer blinked. "Uh... I, uh..."

"She's with me, obviously," Pepper called out over her shoulder as she worked on one of the computers in the room, probably the reason why they were there in the first place. "Can you bring me the stick now?"

Summer then smiled and quickly turned around, USB device in hand as she hurried over to help her boss, and that was when Tony stole Bucky's attention back by saying, "All right, arms out."

From there, getting unstuck turned out to be rather simple. A bit of tinkering on Tony's part finally disabled the magnetic pull of the cuff, and once Bucky and Steve were thankfully free again, Tony immediately started examining the device and muttering to himself about how to fix it. Bucky just stretched out his arm, happy to have control of it back, but then his expression became annoyed again almost instantly once the plates in the upper part of the arm tried to shift and failed. He stretched it again, moved it a little, but produced the same result. It didn't hurt, but it didn't feel right, and it was bothering him.

Steve noticed this and asked, "Your arm okay?"

Bucky sighed and looked down at the arm, shrugging a little as he said, "I don't know. It's been like this since the mission."

"... That was a month ago," Steve pointed out. "Why didn't you say anything?"

Bucky only shrugged, still frowning at how the arm wasn't doing what he wanted it to. "Must be some shrapnel in there or something. I can't really feel it, so it's hard to really tell what it could be."

After a pause, Steve said, "You could ask Tony to look at it. This is the kind of stuff he deals with every day. He'd probably know what to do."

Though Bucky couldn't help but hesitate at the idea, Tony, who had been seemingly not listening and in his own world some feet away, suddenly straightened and then turned around slowly.

"Did I hear that right?"

Bucky, even more hesitant at the instant cross between glee and over-eagerness on the man's face, paused and then glanced at Steve as if looking for guidance. Steve just nodded and said, "If you can trust anybody to fix your arm, it's him."

"What a rare genuine compliment," Tony observed, then looked back to Bucky. "He's right though. Can I?"

There was no point in finding a reason to say no, Bucky realized, because there really was nobody better qualified than Tony Stark, and despite the rather complicated and bizarre history between the two men, Bucky had noticed that ever since Tony had seen the video of him following the night that he had caused the deaths of Tony's parents, Tony had been treating him differently than he used to. There was more of an understanding there now, and while Tony still wasn't exactly warm or overly friendly, Bucky felt more at ease around him now. And that was a welcome change.

"Do you know... how?" Bucky asked quietly.

"Uh... yeah. This is what I do. I fix things. All I need to do is have a look at the arm first and have JARVIS check a few things and then I can get started."

Really, he didn't have much of a choice, but even if he did, Bucky couldn't see much of a reason to say no. He finally nodded, and then Tony flashed a smile and was suddenly bursting with energy as he all but flew about the room, gathering the right equipment and barking orders to JARVIS. One would suspect that Tony had been waiting for this moment for quite awhile and was now just about overjoyed that it had come. Bucky glanced at Steve, who just smiled and shrugged, and across the room, Summer glanced over her shoulder and gave Bucky a smile of her own.

He smiled back, quite aware of how different past repairs to his arm had been, and quite relieved that those days were over. Now, instead of having to deal with HYDRA and their clinical yet inhumane methods of dealing with him, he just had to survive Tony Stark's snark for awhile.

* * *

Summer's brief visit to Tony's lair had ended as soon as Tony had begun inspecting Bucky's arm, which she hadn't even known needed repairs until she had turned around and saw what Tony was doing. She needed to get back to work then, but not much longer later, Pepper let her take her lunch, and after asking very tentatively if she could go back to where Bucky was to spend her break, Pepper had called Tony and gotten the okay from him.

And now that was exactly where she was headed, armed with food that was half for her and half for Bucky, though he hadn't asked for it, and she could almost giggle at the thought of eating lunch in a room literally surrounded by various multicolored Iron Man suits.

Once she got there, she sent a text from her phone and then waited for someone to let her in - she would probably never have clearance for this room and she was okay with that - and when the door opened, it was Steve waiting on the other side.

"Hi," she chirped, walking in and listening to her heels click on the ground as she walked. She felt extra-professional today, having filled in for Deanna and actually done an okay job of it so far, and with her brother's impending arrival later in the afternoon, she was in a fantastic mood.

"Hey," Steve greeted back, closing the door behind her. "On a break?"

"Yup," she smiled, walking in front of him and then briefly pausing when she saw Bucky sitting back in a chair, staring down at his arm while Tony, at his left side, sat backwards in a chair wearing protective glasses and holding two tools to his arm that she did not know the names of. She felt an immediate sense of relief, though, because when she had first heard that there was something wrong with Bucky's arm that Tony was going to repair, she had immediately envisioned Tony having to take the entire thing off and then reattach it, but thankfully, that seemed to be just another example of her tendency to overthink things.

Instead of that mental image, what she saw looked pretty calm and almost routine, but she stepped closer cautiously before she realized that it wasn't exactly surgery and that she wasn't contaminating a sterile environment. Bucky heard her heels and looked up, small smile appearing instantly on his face that she mirrored as she made her way to sit across from him, in front of some table littered with various tools and expensive-looking tech stuff. "How's it going?"

"Pretty good," Tony answered for Bucky, not looking up from the arm as Summer handed Bucky a sandwich she'd thrown together for him. He gave her a look that told her she hadn't needed to do that, and she gave him one in return that told him to just hush. Tony went on, "He had some shrapnel stuck in the plates from the last mission."

Sitting down, Summer's eyes widened slightly and she said, "That was a month ago! Has this been bothering you all this time?"

Bucky shrugged. "It didn't hurt. It just... hasn't been working completely normal."

"Why didn't you tell anyone?" Summer asked, utterly aghast.

"His other girlfriend already asked him all that," Tony piped up. Then Tony glanced up, did a double take at the sandwich Bucky had just taken a bite of, and then he asked Summer, "Where's _my_ sandwich?"

Summer paused, unable to tell if he was just being sarcastic. "You... didn't ask for one?"

"I might be now."

Steve, leaning against another table opposite Summer, said, "She's on her break, Tony. She has better things to do than make you a sandwich."

"Fine, then you make me one," Tony replied, turning back to Bucky's arm and then adding as an afterthought, "I like turkey, and don't go crazy on the mayo."

Summer stifled a laugh at the pinched, annoyed expression that crossed Steve's face, then resumed watching Tony work on the arm for a moment before a text from her brother stole her attention.

_ETA is now about three more hours_, Paul said. _Sarah's about to explode from the excitement of meeting Captain America_.

Summer grinned and texted back, _Guess where I am. I am in the room where Tony Stark keeps all of his Iron Man suits and builds them. I am not joking._

Paul sent back a meme of a cat with a very shocked and wide-eyed look on its cute face, and that was the last she heard from him, as he and Sarah had just gotten on their last connecting flight to New York. Setting her phone down and now mostly done eating, Summer turned her attention back to Bucky and listened as Tony sat back for a moment and started asking questions.

"So," he started off, "I got all the shrapnel out and got everything working right again, but... as long as I'm in here... I _could_ throw in a few upgrades."

Bucky's eyebrows furrowed slightly and he asked, "What kind?"

"Well for one," Tony took off the protective glasses and sat back, "I can add a holographic function so you don't have to use that thing Nat gave you every time you go out. I just installed one on one of my suits, actually, and this arm - even though it's ancient and this kind of technology should have been impossible for its time - is set up perfectly for it. I can also rewire a few things, improve overall function, add a system check so that next time a bullet decides to shatter inside it, you'll know and won't walk around like this for a month."

Bucky only waited a moment before nodding and asking, "How long will this take?"

Tony pondered that for a moment and then shrugged, "Twenty minutes tops."

"Dang," Summer muttered. When Tony then glanced her way, she added with a shrug, "Sometimes I forget that I'm surrounded by geniuses who can do everything you just said in twenty minutes."

"Genius, singular," Tony replied before getting up and preparing for his next tasks. Then he stopped, turned and looked at Steve, and asked, "Seriously, though - where's my sandwich?"

For the duration of her break, Summer sat there, occasionally checking her phone and watching with full interest as Tony continued working on the arm and Bucky sat perfectly still, sometimes watching and sometimes not. She thought about how much easier Bucky's life would be now that he would have a built-in holographic disguise that would make his arm appear normal to the world, and to think that all this time all it had taken was literally a few minutes of tinkering to make that happen - it was kind of dumbfounding.

Also dumbfounding was when Tony started muttering to himself in what may as well have been another language for as much as Summer understood it. She listened with wide eyes as he rattled off mathematical equations to himself, stopping what his hands were doing for a moment to look up at the ceiling as he inched closer to the answer to his problem. _That_ wasn't surprising. What was surprising was how Bucky listened intently and then solved the equation for Tony, uttering the answer like it was fairly simple math and not something Summer couldn't hope to repeat if her life depended on it.

Tony stared up at Bucky in shock for a minute before saying, "My God. You _do_ speak English."

Summer's wide eyes flickered to Steve, who looked quietly pleased, and then back to Bucky who seemed rather nonplussed before she asked, "How did you know that? What even was that? Algebra on crack?"

"I... don't know," Bucky admitted, as he looked to Steve for an explanation, like she noticed he often did when he remembered something that he couldn't quite line up with the rest of what he knew.

"You've always been good at math," Steve explained.

Then Tony snapped his fingers and said, "Sniper. That's what it is. You guys had to do it the hard way back then."

"... How does shooting people involve math?" Summer asked, feeling like the quintessential dumb civilian asking dumb civilian questions.

"It has to do with calculating your coordinates, the rotation of the Earth, the wind, position, things like that," Steve explained.

"Oh," she said, having known none of that. She then looked at Bucky, who was apparently a closeted math-smartypants, and then shrugged as she said, "Well, I can quadruple most recipes without using a calculator. Sometimes."

Bucky smiled warmly at her, and she tried not to laugh at herself and the mile-wide intellectual disparity that she now thought was there between them. But, to be fair, she often saw things from a perspective unfair to herself, and it wasn't always a very accurate one.

Tony wrapping up his comprehensive repairs and upgrades coincided with her break nearing its end, so she was gathering up her things and getting ready to head back up when Tony started checking his work. He showed Bucky where to press to activate the new holographic function, and on the first try, the image of his arm blurred, pixelated, and then refocused as silver gave way to flesh tones and displayed a normal arm for all to see, calibrated to look exactly like his other.

"There we go," Tony said as Bucky held out both of his arms to compare the two. "Man, I'm good."

Summer cocked her head a little bit, suddenly a little jarred at the very _normal_ sight before her. His hand being disguised was something she was used to, but never the entire arm, and she very quickly decided that she didn't like it much. This was what he must have looked like decades ago, before everything had gone to hell, and in that sense she could appreciate it. But it wasn't him now, and she wished that he didn't live in a world where he had to hide the arm at all.

Almost to her relief, Bucky switched the image off, and then the arm reverted back to normal. Then Tony started explaining how to use a few other new features, and Summer stood up from her seat, checking the time one more time and then shoving her phone back into her purse, mentally calculating how long she could procrastinate until she'd be late.

"And then this is something that'll check for damage and even do some minor repairs in the wiring or sensors if something happens. It only takes a minute or two, and..."

With the room silent aside from Tony droning on, Summer heard a very faint but distinct buzzing sound, and thinking it was her phone, she pulled it from her purse and checked it only to find it dark. She then looked around for a second or two, only to end up realizing that the sound was not coming from anyone's phone or device, but instead from Bucky's arm.

Her eyes, suddenly wide, darted from the arm in question to Bucky's gaze, finding it equally stunned as he stared at her, both of their jaws dropping, hers more than his. Neither had to say a word to express their mutual shock that something that had begun as a joke before it ended up in a story she had written was now... somehow... very real. His arm was seriously _vibrating_.

Steve's brows furrowed, fully understanding what he was seeing, and Tony just raised a single brow as he stared at the arm and said, "... Huh. I didn't actually mean for _that_ to happen." He then looked at Bucky, followed his gaze to Summer, then added, "Though I get the feeling Christmas just came early for one of you. Every pun intended."

As the vibration slowly died, Summer felt an unbearably hot blush engulf her face as Bucky's previously stunned expression curled into a shameless, even devious, smirk, and it sent her stomach into a frantic flutter that echoed her suddenly racing heart. It was all incredibly embarrassing, but the look on his face and the unspoken promises in his eyes of what awaited later far eclipsed the discomfort that came with Iron Man having just unintentionally turned her boyfriend's artificial limb into a custom-made... toy.

She had literally no hope of being able to focus on work the rest of the day.

"Didn't need to know that," Tony said, cleaning up his tools, and Summer actually clamped her hand over her mouth when she realized in horror that she had just spoken her last thought out loud.

Bucky just laughed at her, still looking extremely pleased at her reactions and very mischievous, and Steve was shaking his head and trying not to laugh himself. All Summer could do was eventually squeak that she was going to be late getting back to work - which was true, as she was already a few minutes late by now - and then painfully tear her eyes away from Bucky before rushing the heck out of there before she decided to come back to work considerably even _later _for the sake of... testing. For science.

She was able to slightly breathe again once she was out of Tony's lair and back within the safety of the elevator, at least until her phone buzzed - of course - and made her jump before she grabbed it and read the just-received text from Bucky.

_I know what you're gonna be thinking about all day_.

She breathed a sigh of relief. That wasn't so bad. He could have really gone for it and made her still very present blush reach epic proportions.

Then her phone buzzed again.

_I'm just gonna think about you sitting there and squirming behind that desk, trying to focus on your work instead of how wet you already are for me._

And there it was. She groaned and dropped her head against the elevator wall, already squirming as she typed back, _Stooooopppppp_. Then she aggressively added some crying-face emoticons and sent it, regretting having ever taught the man how to text.

He sent back a winky face. A _winky face_. Then after that, when the elevator was near the top of the building, he added,_ I don't think I can wait until you're off work, now that I can't get that picture of you out my head_.

It took a few seconds for what he was saying to sink in. Once it did, she bit back a whimper and this time cursed having written that _thing_ awhile back, because revealing to him through her writing how much she liked it when he talked like this had opened the floodgates of filthy words from his lips and she wasn't sure how much more she could take before she just combusted. _You are killing me_, she replied as the elevator finally came to a halt and the doors opened.

After getting back on the clock and taking shelter back behind her accursed desk, which had unexpectedly become a prop in Bucky's apparent fantasy, she dropped her phone on top of it and took a deep breath. She had emails to get to and phone calls to deal with, neither of which were aided by her continuing distractions. But they were _some_ distractions.

She managed to ignore her phone and read one email before she gave in and read the three new texts she'd just gotten, taking a deep breath of courage first.

_I picture you sitting at your desk with your legs crossed, squeezing as much as you can as you picture what I'm doing to myself_.

She noisily dropped a pencil that had been in her hand and cringed, immediately doing exactly as he had pictured as soon as she had read the words. She could just picture him, back in his own room now, gleefully ruining her day with just a few texts. Then she moved on to the next message.

_I'll text you later. I need both my hands._

She rolled her eyes and very nearly slammed her head on the table.

_I love you_.

One day, he was going to be the death of her, and there was no escaping it. Face the color of a tomato and fingers shaking slightly with just how affected she was, she quickly replied,_ I love you too you big fat evil diabolical jerk. I am so uncomfortable now. For so many reasons. Thanks._

When he didn't answer until ten minutes later, she tried not to think about why that may have been, and instead did her very best to focus on her actual work for the rest of the day.

It was a long, long day.

* * *

After having to work a bit past her scheduled time off due to Deanna's absence that day, Summer finally got off of work and was texting frantically on her phone to determine where Paul was and if he had landed safely and if he was on his way to the tower yet. She barely looked up from her phone the whole way there, and as soon as she was off the elevator and through the doors of the little "apartment" shared by herself and a number of Avengers, she looked up and had to stare in silence for a moment.

There was Paul, snapping a picture from his phone as Sarah just about bounced with glee while she watched Steve hold their tiny one-month old daughter. Not too far away, David was curled up on the couch next to Bucky, watching his uncle with his usual shyness and wariness, and Summer felt an instant sense of sadness at having missed the chance to greet Paul and Sarah and introduce them to everybody, but it was gone as soon as it had come. There was literally nothing to be sad about when it came to what she was looking at.

Paul looked up and instantly broke into a face-splitting grin. "There she is! And oh my God, she looks all professional and crap!"

Summer smiled and braced herself, because where most brothers would just give her a normal hug and go on with their visit, Paul instead all but ran at her and tackled her with all the affection of a sibling who desperately missed their other half.

After letting out a mildly pained "oomph" and nearly falling over, she laughed and hugged him back and asked, "When did you guys get in? You never answered my last text and I was about to freak out!"

"Sorry," Paul said, pulling away, smile plastered to his face. "I know you said to text you and make sure you were there to let us in but Bucky let us in."

She raised an eyebrow. "Bucky? He's Bucky now? Not Voldemort?"

Paul just gave her a vague look, one that made her suspect that some kind of talk between them had happened between himself and Bucky that she wasn't privy to, and then he put an arm around her shoulder and said, "Come meet my awesome new kid."

On the way, Sarah clobbered Summer with her own hug - one with an added whisper of "Captain America's holding my baby and I think I'm gonna die because he's even hotter in person and you _live_ with him oh my _God_" which made Summer snort with laughter - and then she was taking in the adorable sight of Steve with a baby herself. She didn't know how much experience he had with babies in general, but even she had to resist the urge to melt at how he was smiling at the baby, and she wasn't the only one - Natasha was watching as well, standing nearby and keeping up her poker face, but even she couldn't remain completely visibly unaffected. When he glanced up and noticed Summer, he quickly snapped out of it and then began the process of handing little Marina to her aunt.

She hadn't gotten to hold several of Paul's kids when they were this little, so Summer was prepared to soak it all in as she took the little bundle of pink from Steve into her arms. The baby was dressed in a flowery pink dress and warm, frilly ruffled socks, and on her head was a rather large pink bow. She felt as light as a feather and she was sleeping soundly despite being passed around from person to person, eyes shut tight and cheeks plump and healthily pink. In short, she was absolutely _amazing_.

"Oh my God," Summer smiled, feeling tears instantly forming behind her eyes as she gazed down at her niece, "you are _perfect_."

"Totally," Paul proudly beamed. "And check out her hair under that giant bow."

Summer lifted up the band of the bow just slightly, and though there wasn't a whole lot of hair to speak of just yet, the wisps that were there were distinctly a gingery blonde color. She then looked up at Paul and grinned, "Seven kids later, and one finally got your hair."

"And I could not be happier," he admitted with a pleased grin. "She's gonna have freckles too. I just know it."

Summer shook her head, still smiling so widely that it hurt, and then she glanced over to the couch and caught David's stare just before he tried to act like he hadn't been looking. She carefully then made her way over to the couch, slowly taking a seat on David's unoccupied side, and as she adjusted her hold on Marina, she held her so that he could see her and said, "See the baby? This is your new little cousin, Marina."

He shrunk a little closer into Bucky's side, but his gaze on the baby was curious and increasingly fascinated. Summer looked up and caught Bucky's eyes not on the baby but on her, and something within stirred at the softness in his eyes. She wasn't sure what it was that she felt, or what it was that she saw in his eyes - after all, he was used to the sight of her with a child, so that was nothing new. But then his gaze flickered down to her arms, and briefly scanned over the child before looking back up at her, that same softness growing the longer that he stared.

All she could do was smile at him and the look down at Marina, not sure she was quite ready to go down the road that her brain was about five seconds away from skipping down. Holding a new baby while her son sat glued to the side of a man whom he seemed to adore, in his own quiet, subtle way, more and more every day, all ran the risk of making her feel things that she was sure they weren't ready for yet. Though, judging by the way that Bucky was looking at her, maybe one day, they would be.

Before the sweetness of it all could get to her and get the waterworks started, Summer got up and returned Marina to her mother, and just in time, because she had just begun to squirm awake. "She's perfect," Summer said to both Sarah and Paul. "Seriously. Even with the ginger gene and all."

"It was bound to happen sooner or later," Sarah replied. "Oh, can I ask you something? ... Somewhere?"

"Sure," Summer said, watching Sarah glance at Steve with slight goo-goo eyes before she led them away into the kitchen.

Once far enough away from everyone, Sarah bounced slightly on her feet to soothe Marina and then whispered, "I can't believe you live here with these people. I knew because Paul told me, but seeing it is just..."

"I know," Summer grinned widely.

"And Captain America!" Sarah scream-whispered. "He is... oh my _God_."

"Isn't he at the top of your 'okay to cheat with' list?" Summer asked.

Sarah nodded enthusiastically. "And I have never been more confident in that choice before. But _your_ guy_!"_

Sarah then started speaking her native Spanish, and Summer had no clue what any of it meant, but she was pretty sure most of it could be roughly translated to "hubba hubba". "Oh yeah. I know. He's..."

"Yes," Sarah agreed, though Summer hadn't been able to find an actual sufficient word. "And he doesn't seem nearly as scary as Paul made him out to be."

"He's... gotten less terrifying over time," Summer shrugged.

"You look different," Sarah then observed, taking Sarah by surprise. "And I don't just mean your clothes, though you look great with this look, but... you're happy now. I can tell."

Summer couldn't help but smile. "Is it that obvious?"

"Oh yes. And I'm happy for you. David looks good, too."

"He's doing _really_ good," Summer nodded. "Better than ever, actually."

Marina then let out a tiny little wail, and as Sarah pat her back to comfort her, Summer said, "Well, go on and make yourself comfortable, feed her, whatever - I'm gonna go change and then I'll have dinner ready."

Sarah nodded, giving Summer one last brief side-hug before heading back to the living room, and Summer did exactly as she said she would. She went to her room, took her hair down, peeled off her clothes and then threw on the first thing she saw, which was a pale yellow sundress, and after kicking off the heels that she didn't need to wear anymore, she headed back out to the kitchen.

Having thought well ahead earlier that day, dinner was an extremely easy affair, a one-dish slow cooker deal, so it was ready almost immediately. Getting everyone to sit down and eat it was another matter entirely - Natasha had to step away for a call, Sarah was momentarily stuck on the couch feeding Marina, and David had gotten on the Playstation while Summer had been changing, and he was quite unwilling to give it up. In the end, Summer relented and let David eat leftover pizza as he played his game, since he didn't like that night's meal anyway, and she sat down to eat once the other adults had at last assembled.

At first, it was surreal. Having her family there, in the flesh, on a casual visit in the skyscraper that she called home along with some of the world's most remarkable people - it was kind of ridiculous, but also completely awesome. Not too long ago, Bucky had been her well-kept secret, and Paul had been in the dark about _everything. _Now here they all were, like it was totally normal and everybody was okay with each other, and she couldn't believe her luck. She hadn't even caught Paul glaring at Bucky yet, though to be fair, the night was young.

"So," Paul asked once they were all sitting down at the oversized table, "hows life at... Avengers Tower these days?"

"Good," Summer replied. "Aside from it almost blowing up that one time."

"Yeah, you mean the night I had like a million heart attacks," Paul said. He then looked over at Steve and Natasha, who were sitting on his side of the table, and asked between a bite of food, "You all catch who did it?"

"We did," Steve nodded. "And the Tower's safer now."

"I hope so," Paul replied. "Because... I mean... if this place isn't the safest building in the country aside from the White House, then I don't even know what to say."

"It pretty much is," Steve assured him.

"Know what would help make it even safer, though?"

Summer gave Paul a look and said, "Paul... don't say it."

"What? I was just gonna suggest some protection spells. _Salvio hexia_," he said, waving his fork like it was a wand.

"I missed your nerdiness," she smiled, glancing up at Bucky briefly as she took another bite of food. He smiled softly at her as he chewed as well, and she didn't think much of it when she felt his cool left hand come to rest on her knee, just below where the hem of her dress ended.

"So you're a doctor?" Natasha asked, glancing at Paul as she leaned past Steve. When he nodded, she asked, "What kind?"

"Internal medicine," he replied, the look on his face giving away how unabashedly thrilling it was to have an Avenger ask one such a question.

Summer grinned faintly and kept eating, then glanced to her right again when she felt Bucky's thumb start gently swiping back and forth just above her knee. He was looking down at his plate, but then he glanced at her from the corner of his eye, and something about the way he looked at her reminded her of all of those texts from earlier and how there was a _very_ interesting night ahead of them. She cleared her throat, then took a sip of water before asking impulsively and against her better judgement, "Did you... take care of that problem you had... earlier?"

She didn't miss the amused surprise that flashed in his eyes, but it didn't stop her from instantly regretting the question. Nothing good could come from bringing that up again, especially here, regardless of the other conversations happening around the table.

"Yeah," he nodded, a knowing but faint smirk on his lips. "But it's kind of a... recurring problem."

Fighting off a blush, she smiled and replied, "I think I know the feeling."

"I bet you do."

The hand on her knee tightened almost imperceptibly, and she decided that she needed to change the subject at all costs. "Um... so how's dinner?"

His fingers shifted, and then his hand moved further inward, and he replied quietly, "Delicious."

She just stared at him, wondering how in the world he managed to make everything he said sound so incredibly _dirty_. Or was that just her imagination? Maybe it was just all in her head...

Then his grin returned, and his hand began to slide up higher, slipping under her dress, and she almost choked on another sip of water that she had just taken. She looked around quickly, and once she was satisfied that nobody was looking their way, she hissed under her breath, "_Bucky, stop_."

But all he did was meet her gaze challengingly, grin spreading on his lips as he mouthed back, "Make me."

That was the moment that Summer realized just how deeply in trouble she was.

Theoretically, she could have made him stop. And those two words were his maddening way of letting her know that if she wanted, he would stop, though he knew full well that she really did not.

And so, he held her gaze as his hand moved steadily higher, slowly enough to torture her but fast enough to make her heart race with anxiety. She forced herself to look away, gulping and vowing inwardly that she would act perfectly normal and handle whatever he happened to throw at her. She could do this. She _had_ this.

Fingers now dancing along her inner thigh, they gave her a quick and gentle pinch. She jumped and bit down so hard on her fork that she was sure the entire room had heard it.

She apparently _had_ nothing.

Across the table, Natasha was regaling Paul with a tale of a time that she had once posed as a doctor, and Sarah was staring at Steve like she was a twelve year old girl at a One Direction concert. Meanwhile, Bucky leaned in close enough to whisper in Summer's ear as his hand continued its teasingly slow path up her thigh.

"Make sure you save room for dessert."

Swallowing a mouthful of food that was doing nothing to calm her down, she slowly turned to glare at Bucky, but the look on her face looked nothing like a glare. It was more along the lines of an open-mouthed blush, and his eyes flickered down to her parted lips as his grin widened.

"I didn't make dessert," she muttered, trying oh so hard to make the conversation about actual food, because if it was about _that_, maybe she could calm down. But she knew she still wouldn't, all because of the damn hand creeping closer and closer to somewhere it shouldn't be.

Then he was close again, whispering again. "That's all right. We both know you like the taste of something _else_ even more."

A shiver shot down her spine at the same moment that her face went up in flames, and she used all of her self control to not slam herself face-down on the table. And she had thought the _texting_ earlier was bad.

"I can tell by the way you lick it off my -"

She kicked him, as hard as she possibly could with bare feet, under the table. Paul glanced over at the sound it made, but his attention was quickly stolen back, and then Summer was back in her own private torture zone, feeling like she was going to either scream or explode or just melt into a puddle on the floor. Maybe all three, in that order.

And all the while, his hand never stopped moving. Her legs, previously crossed at the ankles, were farther apart than they should have been, welcoming his touches despite how she knew she shouldn't, and all the while, he never did anything more than tease. Just when he'd get close enough, he'd draw back down her leg, towards her knee, and start the path all over again. He leaned in a third time as his fingers started grazing dangerous territory again, and she held her breath, mentally preparing to either slap him away or drag him under the table.

"I wish I could have you under the table right now... have I ever told you that when you moan when your mouth is... _around_ me, I can feel your voice... vibrating?"

And that was when his arm quietly, inconspicuously, but torturously hummed to life, and right when his fingers had finally stopped their teasing and gone where they were needed.

Her mouth fell open, and she covered it with her hand, trying to pass it off like she was just leaning her chin on her hand. Bucky leaned away but his hand didn't budge, and she was fairly sure that her heart had stopped and that she was just a ghost now, about to float through the ceiling. And _nobody_ seemed to notice _anything_.

And then, just as she thought she might pass out, his hand was gone. She widened her eyes and looked at him, both hands back where they belonged as he took a nonchalant drink of water, like nothing had ever happened.

"Later," he mouthed as he set his glass back down, looking quite pleased with himself.

And he called _her_ a tease.

Relieved, disappointed, and light years beyond frustrated, Summer took one more look around the table, and unexpectedly noticed Natasha looking her way. The spy's lips were quirked slightly as she shook her head just a little bit, and Summer got the distinct feeling that Nat had likely noticed from the beginning but just had the good sense and decency to keep it to herself and help distract the others at the table.

She smiled uneasily and then stared down at her plate, cursing Bucky's name into oblivion in her head.

"You okay, Summer?" Paul asked, and she looked up to find him looking at her in concern. "You kinda look like a strawberry."

"And you look like an orange puked on top of your head," she shot back. "What's your excuse?"

"Fair enough," he shrugged, going back to eating.

Summer glanced at Bucky one more time, only to find him watching her in sheer amusement. He stayed on his best behavior throughout the rest of the night, and she wasn't sure if she was happy or infinitely disappointed about that.

After that particularly intense dinner, Summer left the cleaning up to Steve, who offered, and then helped Paul and Sarah get settled into their room. More than exhausted after having flown in all the way from California on three separate airplanes, Paul promised Summer that he'd get up early enough to help her put together David's birthday surprise after he passed out for the night. After that, she hugged him goodnight and left them alone to sleep away the day of travel, leaving her to focus on getting David settled in and asleep before his big day of turning six. Being incredibly eager for his first birthday in the tower, David went to bed early to hasten the day's arrival.

And that left Summer with only one more thing left to do before she called it a night as well.

Walking purposefully out of her room and down the hall, Summer marched up to Bucky's door and knocked on it, staring at the door with determination as she waited for him to answer it. As soon as he did, wearing a maddeningly stupid grin that pissed her off almost as much as it made her stomach flutter, she grabbed him with both of her hands on the neck of his shirt and pushed him inside, hissing in the angriest tone that she could muster, "I am going to _kill_ you."

Door closed behind them, she kept walking him back towards his bed as his grin only widened and his hands immediately sought her hips. "First the texts while I was working, and the images you put in my head," she said, "and then that crap at the dinner table. What the hell are you trying to do to me?"

When he tried to kiss her rather than answer her, she expertly avoided his lips and then, as the backs of his legs hit his bed, pushed him down so that he sat on the edge and her hands were on his shoulders. He looked up at her with unhidden lust in his eyes, clearly enjoying her unusual show of slight aggression, and his eyes only darkened further when she lowered herself down and straddled his lap, moving her hands into his hair as she said, "You're a jerk."

Then before he could reply, she kissed him, hard and fast and in a way that made him instantly groan against her lips and pull her impossibly closer. "And I'm so gonna get you back one day," she added breathlessly before he resumed the kiss, ravaging her mouth the way that she had known he would after their entire day of teasing.

"You already did," he murmured before she reached down and grabbed the bottom of his shirt to pull it over his head. After she tossed it to the floor, she looked first at his now-mussed hair and the dog tags she was pretty sure he hadn't taken off since she had placed them around his neck a month ago, then met his gaze once his hand took her chin and forced her to look up. "That was me controlling myself at dinner. You have no idea how hard it is for me to stop when it comes to you."

She swallowed reflexively and whimpered a little when he kissed her again. "... You're still a jerk," she managed to mutter when his kisses left her mouth in favor of her neck, all while his hands started gathering up the skirt of her dress around her hip.

"A jerk with a vibrating arm that you've been fantasizing about all day," he retorted, breathing heavily against her throat as his hands ground her hips down into his lap.

"That and... other things," she admitted. "I regret ever showing you how to text."

He chuckled and then lifted her dress up and over her head, tossing it on top of his shirt over the floor. "If you want to watch me that bad, all you have to do is ask."

But before she could formulate an answer, he turned them around and had her lying underneath him on the bed, kissing her with a fury that made her lose all train of thought and forget any words she might have wanted to say in return. He didn't let up, getting off the rest of their clothes in a dizzying rush as she just hung on, trying to stay afloat and also trying to keep her voice down since, after all, her brother ears didn't need to be defiled the way the floor's other inhabitants ears had been multiple times before.

She suppressed a squeal of surprise when he unexpectedly flipped her over on her stomach, then growled lowly in her ear, "On your knees." An indecipherable noise was her reply as she scrambled to obey, and as soon as she did, he gently eased her up by a fistful of her hair and then said again into her ear, "Hands on the headboard."

Not entirely used to being bossed around like this and not minding it in the _least_, she gripped the top of the panel of wood in front of her and felt her heart racing a mile a minute as he marked her neck, little sounds escaping his throat as his metal hand came to rest on her lower stomach. Feeling all of him pressed against her from behind, needing the anticipation he had built up in her head all day to finally be over, she let out a small, uncontrollable moan when his right hand pulled her face towards his and he kissed her so deeply that it might have been almost just as good as what she knew was coming.

Then, his left hand slowly moving lower, his lips brushed hers as he looked into her eyes with a gaze every bit as heated as her own as he asked, "Ready?"

Her lips parted further but she found that she couldn't say a word, and then his hand finally stopped its torturous descent. He didn't take his eyes off her as he shifted the arm, and then made it rumble with its light but perfectly steady vibration, and she gasped first before dropping her head back against him and nearly biting a hole into her lip to keep from crying out the way she _needed_ to.

"Careful, sweetheart," he grinned against her cheek, and she was too far gone to register the new term of endearment. "Might wake up that baby down the hall."

"I hate you," she managed to choke out.

He merely smiled against her skin and at last ended his own misery, letting out a low, breathy, deep moan into her ear as he replied, "I love you, too."

* * *

The next morning, Summer looked around the living room area cautiously before turning and giving the okay to Paul to bring in the special, and very large, item that they had just picked up from a toy store fifteen minutes ago.

"Don't need any help here," Paul said, dragging the box inside and then readjusting his hold as he continued dragging it across the floor. "Definitely no need to offer."

"Sorry," she said, going to pick up the other end so they could move it more easily. "I'm kinda used to being around guys who can pick up cars without really trying."

"I can see that," Paul said, eyebrows going up for emphasis. "So where's this going?"

"Spare room down this hall," she said, gesturing to her right. "It's gonna be David's playroom for now."

"Where is he again?"

"Downstairs, with Steve, who's giving him his first present of the day," Summer grinned as they moved down the hall. "Tony made it. It's a smaller exact replica of Steve's shield. Made of non-dangerous material, of course, but Tony said it'll feel heavier and just like the real thing."

"I want one," Paul said with suddenly wide eyes. "Seriously. Can I have one too?"

"Maybe for your next birthday," Summer grinned as they finally got into the room. "But I figured you'd rather have a replica of the Elder Wand."

"I need both!" he half-gasped. "Who could stop me if I had the Elder Wand _and_ Captain America's shield?"

"... You have a point," she agreed as they set the box down and then both sighed as they put their hands on their hips, mirroring the other without realizing. "Alright. Ready to help me assemble this giant castle... thing?"

"It's gonna take up the whole room," Paul said, looking around the somewhat small, unfurnished room.

"Yup. But he'll love it," Summer said, starting the process of opening up the box starting at one corner. "So. Am I ever gonna hear about this secret conversation between you and Bucky or are you just gonna keep changing the subject when I bring it up?"

"Hey, you kept him a secret from me for months," Paul reminded her. "You have no room to complain there."

"Sure I do," she argued. "So come on, spill."

Paul sighed, helping get the box open as he replied, "He complained about how you snore in your sleep and I told him about that time I caught you making out with a teddy bear when you were six."

"I don't snore!" she protested. "The worst complaint he's had there is from my hair going everywhere because he's woken up choking on it like twice."

Paul stuck his fingers in his ears and immediately exclaimed, "La la la, don't want to hear about you and him sleeping in the same bed, let me live in denial, la la la!"

She rolled her eyes, then scrunched her face and said, "And I did _not_ make out with a teddy bear."

"Yes you did, and I have the old pictures to prove it," he said.

"Whatever. Anyway. Stop trying to change the subject. What did you really talk about? More 'I'll kill you if you hurt my sister' stuff?" When Paul remained mum, she made a noise of exasperation and said, "Oh my God, would you just spit it out?"

"It was a good talk, okay?" he finally answered, just as they started pulling pieces out of the box. "Nothing for you to get so antsy about. He actually spoke this time unlike last time, so that was nice."

"And what did he say?" she asked, locating the assembling instructions sheet and sitting down on the floor as Paul followed.

"Well," Paul began, "I asked him if this -" He gestured to the tower, "- was a permanent thing for you guys. He said he didn't know because you apparently just left some guy's farm and really liked it there? So naturally I asked if that meant you and him would be getting your own place eventually and he said yeah, if you wanted to."

Summer's eyes bugged out of her head slightly as she looked up from the instructions. "Oh my God, Paul - _we_ hadn't even talked about that yet!"

"Well, there you go, I saved you the trouble," Paul grinned annoyingly.

"Next you're gonna tell me you asked him when he's gonna propose," she rolled her eyes.

"I did."

Eyes widening even more and face paling, Summer was one breath away from screaming when Paul held up his hands and laughed.

"Kidding! Oh my God, kid, I'm not _that_ stupid." As she sighed deeply in relief and dropped her face into her hands, Paul added, "But I did ask him how serious he is. I mean, you've been together awhile and I know you've said it was serious, but I asked him if he was in it for the... you know... long haul, especially since David's so attached to him."

"And?" she asked impatiently.

Paul paused only for a few seconds before he replied, "He said he can't imagine life without you."

"And what did you say?" she asked.

"I made him promise that as long as you're here, in the middle of all this weird superhero Avenger crap, that he'd keep you and David safe."

"He already does," she replied quietly.

"Yeah but Summer, this tower almost broke in _half_ a couple months ago," Paul pointed out. "This place might not always be the safest place for you guys, and I have no choice but to trust him that he'll take you somewhere else if he needs to."

"The chances of me walking outside and getting in a cab and dying in an accident are probably way higher than the stuff you're thinking," Summer replied.

Paul then gave her a look and said, "How many encounters with the HYDRA people have you had since you met him?"

Summer stared for a moment before muttering, "Like three."

"And how many car accidents have you had?"

"Okay, okay, I get it, but -"

"No you don't," Paul shook his head. "When he says he loves you I believe him. I do. It's obvious just by seeing how he looks at you. But that's not the point because I'm all the way on the other side of the country, and he's here, and I can't do a damn thing to protect you like I used to, but he can. And that's what I told him."

"And what did he say?" she asked quietly.

"He got this kind of dark... miserable look on his face for a minute and then said he couldn't live with himself if anything ever happened to you because of what he did or didn't do, something like that," Paul replied. "He's very... I don't know. Intense. I got the feeling that it was something he had already though about enough on his own."

"Yeah, it is," she nodded. "We went through this weird week where he was paranoid about basically breathing near me because of these stupid bruises he accidentally gave me when we were -" She looked up to find Paul listening in mild horror, and she cleared her throat and said, "Well, you don't need to know the specifics, but..."

"No, I don't," he agreed.

"Anyway - yes, my safety is his number one priority. And David's safety," Summer said. "You really don't need to worry."

"But I will anyway," he shrugged. "You know it."

"Yeah, yeah," she replied, and a brief silence fell for a few moments.

"I can't believe I'm gonna say this," Paul said, "but somehow, the Winter effing Soldier ended up being the best guy you've dated and the one I trust the most with you. I don't know if that reflects well on him or just horribly on your past judgement."

She laughed and then shrugged, "To be fair, he's only my second 'guy'. So my judgment is so far 50% decent, and that's more than what most girls can say, right? And I mean, look at you. You dated some real winners before Sarah."

"I... well," he shrugged, unable to really argue that point. "But still. This is still super weird and if our dad was still here - just wow."

"And Grandma," Summer added. "I don't know if she would have beat him over the head with her umbrella until he swore to leave me alone or if she would have made him cookies and hot chocolate and made sure he had a warm blanket and a decent bed to sleep in."

Paul thought for a minute before deciding, "Both. Definitely both."

Summer smiled and then laughed, feeling a familiar sense of longing come over her, to have this every day and not be so far away from her only sibling anymore. Phone calls and texts were nice but nothing beat the real thing, and in a life that had taken one bizarre turn after another as of late, Paul's presence was grounding and soothing to her always-racing mind.

"You want to hear something horrible?" Paul said with a grimace. "After we went to bed last night, Sarah made this offhand comment about how she wondered what all Bucky's arm can do, and she was like, 'well, it's metal and seems to run on some kind of power, so do you think it might vibrate?' and I almost jumped out a window because that is not something I needed to hear and plus I don't even know why she'd wonder about that because that just sounds ridiculous. Like oh, here's this weird giant metal arm we're gonna stick on you, and by the way, it doubles as a giant... you know."

Poker faces had never been Summer's strong suit, so all she could do was badly hide a smile and say nothing, though the look on her increasingly embarrassed face said it all. Paul stared at her for a moment and then made a face of complete and utter misery before muttering, "I am going to literally pour bleach in my ears to cleanse my brain now."

"Don't do that," she chuckled, "just look on the bright side. You have a _very_ happy sister."

She then burst out laughing at Paul's miserable groan, which was followed by a bout of fake crying, and she felt like she was home again. She continued to tease him periodically as they finally got down to assembling David's present, and after a few more minutes, she heard a light tap on the door that turned out to be from Bucky.

He peeked in slowly and asked quietly, "Need any help?"

"Yes, actually," she smiled. "I don't know how good you are at assembling stuff, but we suck."

"I don't suck," Paul protested as Bucky made his way inside the room. "I've got seven kids. I'm used to this."

"Then why have you been staring at the instructions like they're in Japanese?"

"Because they _are_ in Japanese!"

Bucky sat down next to her as Summer laughed at Paul, and then he took the instructions from her with a small smile that she returned as he turned his eyes to the paper.

"Is Japanese one of your many languages?" Summer asked as he examined the instructions.

"No," he replied, turning the paper over. "But this is."

She didn't have to ask what, because then he was reading the instructions in what she quickly realized was French. And he didn't just read them to himself, he mumbled most of the words out loud, and it was impossible for her not to stare and soak up the language flowing impressively fluently from his lips. In the midst of her open admiration, she caught Paul staring at her with a vaguely nauseous look on his face.

"Oh please," she snapped. "Don't give me that look. I've seen the creepy look you get when Sarah starts saying God knows what to you in Spanish."

"That's different," Paul replied. "Because then that's you suffering instead of me, and that's how it's supposed to be."

"Well then maybe I'll be as sickening as possible to finally get my revenge on you," she grinned.

"Please no," Paul muttered. "I actually _will_ jump out the window."

Summer laughed, and for the next hour, the trio put David's gift together, now that one of them could actually read the instructions, and it was nice. She and Paul chatted and Bucky would chime in on occasion, but mostly he just worked quietly, looking her way sometimes and smiling like there was nowhere else he's rather be than sitting on the floor with her and her brother, trying to make sense of the crappy instructions that came with her son's main birthday present.

"Man," Paul said when they were done, looking at the finished product, "this thing is sweet. I would have loved this as a kid. It's too bad you gotta keep it inside, because if it was outside, it would be perfect for play wars. Like. Epic medieval reenactments."

Summer had to agree, looking at the castle. It really did take up the whole room, and it had it all - turrets, a functioning gate, everything but a moat. It _was_ a shame to keep it here in a room, but there wasn't much she could do about it.

"If we were still at the farm," she said a bit wistfully, "I could have put this outside and David could have had a war with the Avengers on his birthday."

All was silent until Bucky slowly turned his head towards her, and he said quietly, "Who says he can't have that here?"

Five minutes later, Summer was smiling from ear to ear, about to give her son literally the best birthday ever as she and Paul walked behind Bucky, who was carrying the giant castle in one hand out of the room and towards the elevator. A deep, friendly voice speaking quietly at the dining table got her attention on the way, and all three of them stopped when Summer saw Thor, dressed casually, sitting with a woman she had never seen before.

"Ah, hello, my friends," Thor smiled as the woman turned to look at them herself. Summer immediately knew she wasn't looking at some random human woman, because she was not only stunning in an unearthly way, but she was also dressed strangely, in boots and thin dark pants and a light but luxurious-looking cloak that was probably way too warm for the current weather. Summer was busy staring at her long black hair in deep admiration when Thor placed his hand over the woman's briefly and said, "This is Lady Sif, one of the bravest warriors Asgard has ever known, and one of my closet friends. Sif, this is Lady Summer, and her brother Paul, and the man with strength to rival our race is James, but he goes by Bucky."

Sif smiled at all three of them, and Summer was pretty sure she now understood what a "girl crush" was, especially if this woman was seriously a badass warrior on top of it all.

"Hello. Very pleased to meet all of you," Sif nodded, and while Bucky seemed ready to move on and do what they had planned, Summer was too busy staring at the two Asgardian specimens before her, and she wasn't the only one.

"My list," Paul hissed in a whisper. "You know, the list of people I'm allowed to cheat with. I think I just updated it."

"... Would it be weird if I said I did too?" she whispered back.

"No, but somebody should inform Tom Hiddleston. He won't be happy with the news."

"He's still on top of the list," she replied. "It's just that he _was_ the entire list and now -"

" - Now you'd go gay for a hot alien chick."

"Not _completely_ gay but maybe I'd consider -"

A quiet noise from Bucky suddenly alerted Summer to the fact that she and Paul were literally just staring at Sif and Thor while whispering amongst themselves. She quickly turned bright red and smiled, "I'm sorry! We are completely weird and not representative of the rest of Earth's inhabitants. I mean Midgard. And you're both ridiculously pretty and it burns our human eyes."

Bucky shook his head imperceptibly while smiling just a little, and then he glanced at Thor and Sif who simply appeared amused.

"You are just as Thor described you," Sif told Summer with a smile, whose jaw instantly dropped to the floor.

"Thor _described_ me?!"

After having a mild breakdown at the thought and muffling a scream with the back of her hand, Summer was finally able to calm down and stop fangirling inside long enough to string together a handful of coherent words. "So, um, while I've got you both here, I'm trying to put together a last minute sort of play-war for my son, because his birthday is today, and -"

"It is?" Thor asked with a smile. She nodded, and he asked, "A play-war, you say? What sort of war?"

"Well, because me and my brother got him this huge castle, and we were thinking - well, it was all Bucky's idea actually - but we were thinking that we could set up the castle down in the gym since we can't put it outside, and then sort of let him play war with... the Avengers."

Thor grinned widely and replied, "This sounds fun! It is a surprise for the boy?"

Summer nodded enthusiastically. "Does that mean you're in?"

"Yes, why not?" Thor replied, then turned to Sif and asked playfully, "What say you, good Lady?"

Sif smiled back and shrugged, "I have nothing better to do today."

While nearly jumping up and down with glee, Summer noticed something in the way that Sif spoke to and looked at Thor, and while she had never really "shipped" two people that she knew in real life, she instantly shipped it. And apparently Paul did too.

"Why are they not married with tons of beautiful little alien babies?" he asked in a whisper to her ear.

"What would their ship name be?" Summer whispered back. "... Shor? Thif? Those are awful."

"Have you ever put your name and Bucky's name together? Because I have. Sucky and Bummer. You all are literally a Sucky Bummer."

Summer slowly turned to Paul and made a face at him. "_Oh my God_, you're right!"

Meanwhile, Bucky glanced at Thor and the new visitor and shrugged, to which Thor smiled. Bucky was simply happy to see Summer happy with her brother, and the two Asgardians watched them like they were a fascinating display at a museum.

"What interesting friends you've made here, Thor," Sif said not in a demeaning but rather very sincere way.

"Indeed," Thor smiled back. "You'll soon understand why I will be sad to leave one day."

* * *

Silent as he may be, it made David all the more perceptive to the world around him. He was aware of how he was different from others, though his awareness was not as strong as it would be when he was older. For now, he made it a habit to listen to _everything_, remember everything, and understand as much as he possibly could about the world around him. Like when he took his toys, disassembled them, and then learned how to put them back together through trial and error, he picked apart everything he heard and processed it in ways that most kids did not, then put it all back together to form a clear picture in his head that he could understand. And today, he understood three things.

First, it was his birthday, and he was turning six. This was important because he had heard his mother muttering about needing to get him in school this year, and he didn't like the sound of that. It would be different, and he didn't like different. He liked things the way they were now. He liked the room downstairs that he spent four or five days a week in, playing with other kids, especially Kylie, the little girl who had taught him how to sign. He liked coming back upstairs and seeing the faces of his action figures come to life in the people he now lived with. He liked beating Bucky at Mario Kart, and liked it even more when he'd play toys with him. He liked being put to bed with his favorite stories, feeling his mother's warm hugs as he drifted off, and then waking up to do it all over again the next day.

The next thing he understood was that this birthday would be different from all the ones before. Already today, he had gotten the best present ever, his very own Captain America shield that looked like the real thing. In fact, he was clutching it now, walking down a hallway as his mother held her hands over his eyes and his free hand was held in a larger, distinctly metal, hand. She had a big surprise for him, she said, and he had no idea what to expect. Before, his birthdays had always happened in their old, smaller house, and it was just the two of them, a few little presents, and a cake that was so big that he had no hope of finishing it. She would always try to explain that they didn't have a lot of money to buy things but that she did her best, and he had tried to understand, though he still wasn't sure what money actually was. He understood even less why she seemed to always end up crying at the end of his birthdays. She didn't cry as much now, though, and he was glad about that; he didn't like it when she cried.

The third thing that he understood was that all of this could change in a day, and everything that he liked about where they were and who they lived with could change. It had several times, ever since he had noticed a weird man sleeping outside of their old house what felt like forever ago. At least, that's what his mother had said, that the man was sleeping. Then she had helped him inside, and ever since then, the man his mother called Bucky had been around a lot. More than anybody else ever had been, including the guy with the red hair she told him was called "Uncle Paul". David liked Bucky. He didn't want him to leave, or for them to leave him, but nothing ever seemed to stay the same for long, not since he had come into their lives. And so, David learned to listen extra hard to what everybody said, using his own silence as an advantage to understanding and, if he could, trying to anticipate what would happen next.

But no such changes seemed to be on the horizon today, and when he was finally told to stop walking and open his eyes, he did so with a renewed surge of excitement. What he saw made his little jaw fall to the floor.

He was standing in a very big room, one he had never been in before, and there were some big machines shoved to the side and out of sight to make room for something that he at first thought couldn't possibly be his. It was too big, too much like stuff he saw on TV that they couldn't "afford", whatever that meant, but this... this was his present?

"Surprise," his mother exclaimed happily as he continued to stare dumbly at the castle. Behind it was sheets or curtains or _something_ that had been thrown up over the white wall, and various boxes were around the castle, draped in green fabric and - he thought - meant to look like trees or something. Whatever it all was, it looked like he was stepping into one of the intricate play-worlds that he created in his head with the help of his toys. All that was missing was a princess in the castle's tower that needed saving.

"Do you like it?" she asked excitedly, moving to stand in front of him and kneeling down a little so she was at his level.

All he could do was nod, slightly at first, and then more enthusiastically as he then broke into a huge smile. But he had to make sure of one thing before he hugged her. He pointed to himself and then looked at her inquisitively. She looked down at his finger and then back at his face, and then said, "Yes! Yes, it's yours, sweetie. It's yours forever."

And then he hugged her, with all of his might.

He was so utterly excited about getting to play with the amazing thing every single day that he almost didn't notice how everyone was there for some reason. After he hugged her, he looked behind them and realized that it really was everybody - Bucky, Steve, Thor, a new, tall lady he had never seen before, a shorter one with red hair that he knew quite well by now and was still terrified of, Sam, Uncle Paul, and Aunt Sarah, along with their little baby that he thought looked sort of like a goldfish. _Why_ were they all there?

"You're on to something, aren't you?" he heard his mother say just before he turned back around to look at her. She was smiling. "This is just a part of your surprise. _This_ is the other part."

She then pulled out a water gun from behind her back - a big one - and held it out to him. "You get to have a water gun war with the Avengers. And your new giant castle."

It was settled. This was the best day of his life. It was the best day of _anyone's_ life.

And he was so happy that for awhile, he stopped listening to every last word uttered in his presence, and he simply just had _fun_.

But, there was a moment when everybody was gearing up with their own guns and taking roles and positions in the mock-battle that he looked up and saw his mother hand Bucky a gun, one of the biggest ones, and he watched her smile happily and tell Bucky that she loved him before giving him a peck on the lips. The peck part grossed him out and always would, he had decided back when they had first started doing _that_, but the "I love you" - that was important. It used to be that he had only heard those words come out of her mouth, and since he didn't like talking, he never said them back. Then this Bucky guy had come along, and when David had first heard him tell his mother that he loved her, David had watched closely as she had smiled in pure joy and said it back to him. Not long later, David had decided to sign the term to her, to see if it would make her just as happy as it had when Bucky had said it. It had made her even happier, he thought, because she had cried in a happy way and hugged him so tight that it hurt. He thought it would have just made her happy, but it made him feel happy inside, too. Now he signed it to her all the time, and it never failed to bring a smile to her face.

This time was no exception, as he ran to her and gave her another hug before signing the words to her again. Her face lit up and she hugged him again, and he decided that he wanted things to be like this all the time - his mama happy, smiling and laughing, and Bucky there too, always more quiet and serious but, most importantly, always _there_.

"This was Bucky's idea," she whispered in his ear before pulling away from the hug. "Go give him a hug."

Needing no further encouragement, David pulled his arms back and then ran the short distance to where Bucky stood, smacking into his legs and giving him a big hug that apparently surprised him, because it took a minute before he leaned down and returned the hug.

He liked Bucky a lot, but he wasn't sure what he was. He knew from watching movies and seeing his friends at daycare that some kids - maybe most kids - had not just moms but dads too. One time his mother had explained that he did have a father, but he was far away and he wasn't a good guy. David had translated that to mean that he was a villain like in the movies, since there was only good guys and bad guys in those, and if his father hadn't been a good guy, then he must be bad like Scar from the Lion King or maybe like that Hans guy from Frozen. He wondered what had made him bad, and what he had done for his mother to say that they were better without him.

Bucky, however, wasn't bad. David knew that for a fact. He had watched Bucky save people, just like the good guys did in those same movies, and like how his friend Captain America did all the time. Bucky helped them. He liked to dance with his mother, which David thought was kinda weird, but it made her laugh and that meant that it was good. But David still liked Bucky best when they played together. Bucky never beat him at _anything_, and he had loved the little action figure that David had painted on for his birthday. David was still giddy about that one.

So, if his real dad was bad but Bucky was good, what did that mean? What _was_ Bucky? Would he leave eventually, when things changed again, like David knew they would? If he never left, if he was always there, and he always took time to play with him and hug him back like he was now, did that mean that maybe Bucky loved him like his mama did? He never said he did, but David never said anything at all, and words were only part of what he thought about when he tried to figure something out. As little as he was, he knew that something could be true without someone having to say it. Just like how broccoli was disgusting despite how nobody was willing to admit it around him.

But, these mysteries would still be there to ponder later - and he would - so for now, he simply drew back from the hug and beamed up at Bucky before all but hopping away towards the castle, where he listened to the others as they figured out who would go where.

"Who's gonna be the bad guy? We need a bad guy," Steve said.

"You could play the bad guy for once in your life," Sam suggested with a grin.

"He wouldn't be very convincing," Natasha chimed in. "I'll be the villain. Kid's still scared of me anyway."

David eyed her warily and stepped closer to Steve's side. He wasn't sure about her. He might _never_ be sure about her, especially after one time he saw her kissing Steve in the kitchen. He just couldn't understand why grown ups liked to do that so much.

"We need someone to save," Thor noted, setting down his hammer to pick up his own water gun, which looked small and ridiculous in his big hands. He looked down at the thing, which he surely had no clue of how to operate, as Sam spoke up again.

"Like a damsel in distress? Stuck in the tower?"

David was suddenly reminded of Princess Peach, locked away in a tower by the evil Bowser until Mario came to save her, and he decided that they did indeed need a blonde princess to save. Unfortunately, there were no blonde girls in the room. He looked around thoughtfully, and when his gaze ended up back on Thor, he smiled and pointed first to him, then to his castle.

Thor just stared for a moment before furrowing his brows and asking, "Me?"

David nodded rapidly. The tall lady with black hair standing next to him nearly doubled over with laughter, and Steve patted David on the shoulder and said, "Good call, kid. He's certainly got the hair for it. Go on, damsel in distress. Head to your tower."

Handing his water gun to Sif, Thor sighed and shrugged in defeat, heading towards the castle. "If my brother was alive to see this day, he would never let me hear the end of it."

"_I'll_ never let you hear the end of it," the lady grinned at Thor, just before she looked at David and smiled as she stepped closer. Then she knelt down slightly and said, "My name is Sif. I come from Asgard, like Thor, and I am a warrior just like him. Can I offer you my swo - my... what is this device called again?"

"Water gun," Steve replied.

"Can I offer you my water gun this fateful night as we charge to victory?" she said, smile growing, and David quickly decided that he liked this Sif lady a lot as he nodded excitedly.

Then he turned around and glanced at Thor, who was looking at Sif and smiling in a way that reminded him of the way that Bucky looked at his mama, but the thought was quickly pushed aside as Steve said, "What else... oh, a knight. We need one of those."

David quickly pointed to Bucky, who looked more than a little surprised by the role. But he walked forward anyway, and with those key roles filled, David was fine with everyone else being soldiers and starting the game.

Steve was happy to step back and let Bucky take the lead, but really David was the one in charge, because before Bucky did anything, he asked David first.

With Thor kneeling on the floor behind one of the turrets of the castle, his face peering through a window and looking quite silly, and Natasha standing behind the castle looking perfectly villainous, Bucky asked David, "Ready?"

David nodded. He was _born_ ready for a water gun war with the Avengers - and a war it was.

As Thor wailed in a high pitched voice for his gallant knight - who was Bucky - to save him from the evil Queen, David followed Bucky around the whole set-up, taking shots at Steve and Sam (who were apparently on the side of evil) while Sif helped them, and within no time at all, everybody was soaked and screeching with laughter. Several times, Bucky grabbed David's arm and they would dive behind one of the tree-boxes for cover, only to have Natasha appear out of nowhere and unload her gun directly on top of their heads. As she "reloaded", David helped Bucky make progress on the castle, which was still being guarded by Steve and Sam, though Sif managed to disarm both men and then take them prisoner. She really _was_ an awesome warrior, David realized.

And that left just the evil queen to be dealt with, as she was back and full of ammo.

"You're outnumbered," Bucky informed her. "Let the... Princess go."

"And why should I?" Natasha asked, raising an eyebrow, her short red hair stuck to the sides of her face.

"Save me!" came Thor's high pitched whine, and David giggled - he couldn't help it.

"Last chance," Bucky said.

But when Natasha didn't budge, Bucky gave David the signal, and then they both fired at her at full blast. She fell back with a great, dramatic flourish, then stuck her tongue out and closed her eyes, while trying very hard not to laugh. David raised his gun in victory, stole a high five from Bucky, then pointed urgently at Thor.

"Oh right," Bucky muttered, stepping closer to the "princess" and extending his hand. "You're... saved."

"My hero!" Thor said, still in that weird high pitch, unable to control his laughter now that it was over. But it wasn't over, not yet. David pointedly motioned to his own lips, then his cheeks, and it took a minute for either one of them to grasp what he was saying, because they weren't familiar with the fact that Peach always gave Mario a kiss on the cheek as a thank you after being rescued. David was nothing if not a stickler for the rules.

"Oh," Thor said, confusion turning briefly to mild distaste, then resignation as he shrugged and said, "Well then. For Asgard."

Bucky, who was still lost as to what David had been trying to convey, then suddenly froze as god of thunder himself pecked his cheek in gratitude. He jerked back slightly and then stared at Thor as if he had gone utterly insane, but Thor just clapped him on the back and laughed heartily, as did just about everyone else in the room.

_Now_ the game was over.

Except... it wasn't.

After shaking off the unexpected kiss, Bucky had waved off everybody's laughter and then came over to David, patting his shoulder and then bending down as he smiled and said, "You did good, kid. But we have one more thing to do. As you can see... your mom is dry over there, next to your Aunt."

David looked, and it was indeed true. That just wouldn't do.

He picked up his gun and turned to head straight for her, but Bucky stopped him and pointed to his chest as he said, "Aim here. Okay?"

Though he had no clue why Bucky wanted him to aim at his mother's chest, David nodded anyway and went on his way, keeping his gun down to avoid suspicion as he walked up to his smiling and very happy mama.

"Whoa, you are soaked!" she exclaimed, brushing his hair back. "But you did so good, beating the evil queen and saving the princess! In fact, I bet that you - "

She shut up abruptly as he raised his water gun and mercilessly drenched her shirt with the water that he had left. She just stood there, staring at him open-mouthed and gasping a little - the water _was_ cold - until he was empty, at which point her expression grew angry as she looked past him to Bucky, who she yelled at, "_You_ told him to do that, didn't you? Oh yes you did, don't give me that look! This is not a wet t-shirt contest! You know what..."

She then scrambled for a gun of her own, and when she found one, David ran away giggling towards Bucky, who motioned for him to hurry up and come take cover with him from the angry, wet, squealing lady who was now out for blood.

David laughed noisily as he and Bucky took cover behind a box, and while he had no idea still why Bucky had told him to aim where he had and why that had made her so mad, he didn't care, because this was _awesome_. His mother, while currently a bit annoyed, was happy. Bucky, judging by how he was grinning and waiting for the oncoming assault, was happy too, and David, for his part, felt so happy that he could burst.

If life stayed like this forever, just like this, he didn't think he could ever be sad again. This was perfect, absolutely perfect, and he hoped that nothing ever, ever changed.

**A/N: I am excited to post this chapter for a few different reasons. One of which is because arm reasons (lol, it was a long time coming) but the main one is David's POV here in the last section. I'd been wanting to use his perspective for a scene but hadn't had one that fit well enough until this one, and it was exciting and also a little worrying to do, because I wanted to get it completely right and I've never written from a special-needs pov before (or a six year old's, for that matter), but I'm happy with how it turned out. I hope you all will like it too :) My thanks to midnightwings96 for helping me out with this (and every) chapter, and ooooh, one of our favorites is coming up next :) I'm still in the early stages of writing it but it's one of those chapters we've been looking forward to forever. Also, just to mention this, I think this story has maybe... 10-12 chapters left. Not totally sure, but I think it's around there. But I'll still be writing a continuance once it's over and be posting oneshots that continue the story. So yeah. Anyway. My thanks to you guys for reading, reviewing, following, you're all the BEST and I look forward to your comments greatly every week. I'll see you all next Monday :D **


	25. Chapter 25

It was as ordinary a day as ever, two Tuesdays after Paul and Sarah had headed back to California, and not one that Summer thought would really end up being particularly interesting. In fact, it was so mundane that she was wasting time on her phone sitting behind her desk, whiling away the morning by reading random bits of celebrity gossip in between looking up potential kindergartens for David come fall. Aside from finding out what Pepper wanted for lunch and waiting to be told what else to do with her day, there really wasn't much else to do, and reading the stupid gossip sites was at least keeping her awake.

For awhile, at least. After she nodded off once without realizing, a cup of coffee landed on her desk with a thud and sent her jumping awake as she looked up at Deanna, giving her an amused look. "Rough night?"

"No. Well... no," she shook her head, holding in a comment somewhere along the lines of _depends on your definition_. Sometimes Bucky let her sleep, sometimes he didn't. Last night had been closer to the latter. But her boss definitely didn't need to know that.

"Mmhmm. Well, take a drink of that and then you can go grab a new box of paperclips to wake yourself up."

"Okay," Summer replied as the woman headed back to her own desk, picking up the coffee and trying not to wince because whoever had made the stuff was not very good at it. Or maybe she was just used to the way everybody down in the apartment made it - way too strong, especially if Bucky had been the one doing it. She had once seen him pour a third of an entire bag of expensive coffee into the machine at once, and he hadn't understood why she had freaked out and spooned most of it back into the bag. She had made some remark about a little bit going a long way, and he had managed to turn that into an inescapable innuendo, as per usual. She could discuss the finer points of economic trade with China, and he'd find a way to turn that into something dirty, too.

After choking down the coffee and forcing her brain back on working, she leaned back in her chair and then forced herself on her feet. The office supplies were kept down on a lower floor, so she headed out of the office and towards the elevator, yawning once on the way and letting her mind drift to such mundane matters as to what to make for dinner once her shift was over.

She had decided on letting everybody order pizza so she could take a nap instead of bother with dinner as she stepped off on the correct floor and found the room that contained, among other things, a giant stack of paper clip boxes. She opened the door, walked in, grabbed a box, and then froze immediately upon hearing something odd. She narrowed her eyes and focused her hearing, quickly determining that it was rushed whispering in a different language that she was listening to. She couldn't be completely sure, but, having been somewhat well-acquainted with what whispered Russian sounded like, albeit under much more pleasant circumstances, she would guess that it was that.

She knew that Bucky would probably yell at her later over what she was about to do, but she did it anyway. With a box of paperclips as her only potential weapon, she crept closer to the sound, but she tried to stay far enough away to not get caught. It was most likely nothing, after all, but just in case it _was_ something, she wanted to get a closer look so that she could then run out of there and call one of the number of Avengers she had saved in her phone to come down and check it out.

Instead, once she got the closer look, she didn't have time to dash away or pick up her phone. She saw a man huddled between two shelves, speaking hurriedly into his phone, and as soon as she laid eyes on him, he looked up and saw her, and that was when she knew that this was _not_ nothing.

All in the blink of an eye, he pressed something on his phone and then threw it at her, and as she automatically flinched and tried to back away, it sparked and then blew up in a very small but very smoky explosion. It didn't hurt her, and the worst it did was completely destroy the phone and leave a burn mark on the floor, but it served its purpose, because as she coughed after the smoke began to clear, she looked up and saw the sole window in the room wide open.

She went to it and looked out, finding no trace of the man who had just jumped out of it. Getting one more good cough out, and mentally telling her freshly scattered nerves to calm down - after the last two explosions she'd experienced, the exploding phone was enough to almost send her spiraling into a PTSD-driven panic attack in a random corner - she grabbed her phone and then hurried out of the room, hitting the first number in her contacts.

When Bucky answered, he sounded out of breath, which meant he was likely about ten floors away in the gym. He also sounded highly surprised because she _never_ called him, ever. "Summer?"

"Yeah... I think I just caught some random bad guy trying to like spy on the tower or something, I don't know what he was doing but he was on the phone and speaking in Russian and then he threw his phone at me and it blew up and he jumped out a window and -"

"_What_ blew up?!"

She sighed, forcing herself to talk slower. "His phone, he threw his phone at me and it blew up but I'm okay, and then he jumped out the window."

"Where are you?" he said in more of an angry death-growl than anything.

"Uh... 41st floor, about to go back to work I guess but -"

"No. Stay where you are."

Less than a full minute later, Bucky came bursting out of the emergency stairwell, and Summer found herself whisked away down to the apartment some floors down. It was just the start to a couple of very strange but pretty exciting days.

* * *

Bucky was not happy. And the way that he was pacing through the living room made sure everybody knew it.

Tony was flipping through a holographic list of Stark Tower employees on one of his tiny, weird electronic devices, and Bucky could see that Summer was growing visibly impatient as she looked carefully at every single one. They had been doing this for an hour.

"No. No. No. Nope." She sighed. "Not that one either."

Tony sighed and turned the device off. "That was the last one. Guess he wasn't an employee. Got anything yet, Nat?"

From behind her laptop, Natasha didn't break her concentrated gaze. "Getting there."

All the while, Bucky paced. He caught Summer eyeing him nervously a few times, and he knew that she knew what he was thinking - that the tower was not safe, never would be safe, and maybe, just maybe, _she_ would never be truly safe. The more time that passed, the more he became convinced of it, and he did not like it.

"Got him," Natasha finally said, then turned around her laptop so the others could see. "He got in a cab first and then switched into this car. I traced the license plate and tracked back to one of the owners of a club here in Manhattan."

"What club?" Steve asked.

"One that I cross-referenced with our list of potential HYDRA fronts, and sure enough, it's on there."

"Wonderful," Tony sighed. "These people never stop, do they?"

"Guess we know where the next mission is," Steve said.

"There's one problem, though," Nat said. "I could follow him through the traffic cams but I couldn't get a clear shot of his face. She's the only one who saw him, so she's also the only one who can I.D. him."

Bucky stopped pacing. He glared at Natasha hard enough to burn a hole through her skull and immediately said, "No."

"No to what?" Summer asked, looking around the room. "I'm confused."

Bucky ignored her, now in a staredown with Natasha, who merely replied, "She's the only one who saw him."

"I don't care," Bucky replied. "No." Then he looked at Steve, expecting backup, but Steve just looked at him a bit apologetically, so Bucky decided to glare at him, too.

"Could somebody please tell me what's going on?" Summer asked, getting impatient.

"We would need you to come with us," Natasha explained. "None of us know what the guy looks like. You do. We also don't know how many others would have the same information he does, so we need him."

Bucky looked at Summer as realization dawned on her. "Oh." She looked at him cautiously, then glanced around at the others as she said, "Well... I mean, that's okay with me. I'll help."

Bucky stared at her in disbelief. Was he the only one capable of thinking clearly?

"Good," Natasha said. "You'll only be there long enough to give the I.D., and then we can get you out and -"

This was unbelievable. Utterly unbelievable. Bucky watched as everybody in the room talked amongst themselves regarding this mission, fleshing it out with Summer listening intently and nodding whenever one of them would mention her role in things, and to stop himself from punching a hole in one of the walls and then throwing one of them through it, Bucky left the room and made a beeline for his own. Better to stew in solitude than out where he could snap and half-accidentally maim somebody for even entertaining this idiotic idea.

He ended up at one of his windows, which was still open from when Summer had opened it up that morning in an effort to, in her words, "get the smell of sex out of here". The fresh air, however, did nothing to calm his mind or his nerves, and he was fighting the urge to break something - anything - when he heard Summer's footsteps near the doorway. He kept his eyes fixed firmly on the skyline outside, even when he could feel her closer as she spoke.

"You look pretty deep in your pit of brooding," she remarked, probably trying to lighten the mood, but his mood could not be lightened, he decided. It might have been slightly childish, but he was prepared to be angry about this for the rest of his life. He just couldn't figure out who to direct his anger at - Natasha, Steve, Summer, or HYDRA.

She came closer, close enough for her to put her hand on his arm and her cheek on his shoulder as she looked up at his stony forward-glare. "Come on. You can at least look at me. Don't make me tickle you. I know where you're ticklish. I'll do it."

He finally turned, turning towards her and not softening his glare at all as he muttered, "What's the point?"

"... Of what?" she asked, obviously confused.

"What's the point of me trying to keep you safe, and swearing to your brother that I would, if this is what's gonna happen?" he asked.

She swallowed and began quietly, "Bucky..."

"It's a joke," he said somewhat miserably. "You'll never be safe if you're with me, not really. But you don't have to walk into a HYDRA base and put yourself in that kind of danger. You _don't_, Summer. I don't care what any of them say."

"But I want to help," she replied. "Usually I can never help with anything but I can this time, and Natasha told me how it would go and -"

"She doesn't know how it'll go," he said. "You never know how it'll go until it's happening, that's the way it is."

"Yeah but -"

"You're not trained for this," he said, getting impatient.

"No, but I'm not completely useless, and I'm with the Avengers - and _you_ \- which means I'd be pretty freaking safe."

"Would you?" he asked. "And what if something happens to you?"

"It won't," she replied, and he was almost aghast at how convinced of this she seemed. "And I'll say the same thing I've said to Paul. I could get in a car accident or fall down the stairs or contract some disease, all kinds of things, and it would be more likely than what you're thinking about."

"You can't know that," he muttered.

"Well, maybe not, but you know what?" she asked, stepping a bit closer to him, "I _want_ to help. I don't want to be locked up here in the tower for my own safety like Rapunzel or something. And I know it's hard for you and I get that but it's my choice. I'm not saying train me and turn me into an agent. I'd _never_ want to do that. I'm just saying let me help this one rare time that I actually can."

His frown didn't budge from his face and a significant portion of his brain refused to accept what she was saying, but at the same time, he was slowly coming to terms with the terrible reality in front of him. She was right, though he was loathe to admit it. It _was_ her choice. He couldn't stop her, as much as he indeed wanted to lock her in the tower just like Rapunzel.

And yes, he knew who Rapunzel was. David was currently on a _Tangled_ kick.

"I don't like this," he eventually said, after a silence had passed by.

"I know," she said gently. "I mean, I'm not exactly excited about it. It's kinda like... going to the dentist. It's scary and I'll probably be so nervous about it that I won't eat a single full meal until it's over, but it's necessary, you know? Because it's either go and get it over with or have all your teeth fall out before they should. Except this is more of a life or death thing, so... scarier than a dentist, but. You get the idea."

He just stared at her, and when it fully sunk in that she had just compared a HYDRA mission with going to the dentist, he laughed. It wasn't a full laugh, more of a noisy exhale of breath, but it was enough to make her smile and exclaim, "I made you laugh! And I didn't even have to tickle you."

Shaking his head slightly, he waited for her smile to shrink some and replied, "I'm not gonna let you out of my sight. If you insist on doing this, you're gonna stay by side the entire time. And we'll leave the second you identify the guy."

"Okay," she nodded. "Totally. I leave all of that -" she gestured with her hands towards him - "up to you. You're the boss." Then she paused and added, "Apparently the place is a burlesque club."

He furrowed his brows. "... They still have those?"

"I guess so, because... wait." She gave him a look and smiled as she asked, "Does that mean you used to go to them?"

He answered with a shrug, pretty sure that he had, back in his old life. He'd had flashes before, of smoky clubs and girls dancing on the stage in elaborate outfits, and Steve's face as bright as a strawberry, but they weren't as clear as others. "Probably."

"... I bet you did all the time," she sighed, still smiling a little. "Well... anyway, she said I'd have to disguise myself since the guy got as good a look at me as I got at him. Plus it's kind of a classy type place. So I have to go shopping."

She looked more apprehensive about going shopping than she was about slipping into HYDRA territory. Bucky nodded and then asked, "Did any of them say when they wanted this to happen?"

"As soon as they can," Summer shrugged. "Sam's supposed to help like stake out the place or something tonight and then they want to do it tomorrow night." Then she added and grimaced, "_Stake out._ I feel like I'm badly out of date on my terminology with this stuff."

He let himself smile a little at her, but his frown returned and he walked off towards his bed, where he sat down on the side edge and continued to try to make mental peace with everything. He was getting there, albeit slowly, but he didn't want to punch a hole into any walls anymore, so he figured that was a good sign. He looked up when Summer appeared in front of him, just before she put an arm around his shoulders and sat sideways on his lap. His hand went to her hip and hers went to his hair, brushing it back as she smiled softly at him and said, "I know this isn't easy for you. So thank you for supporting me anyway."

He just shook his head slightly and replied, "Your brother would kill me."

"... Let's just... keep this to ourselves," she suggested, and unfortunately, he had to agree with her. And besides, he'd still be keeping his promise, because he would do absolutely everything in his power to make sure nothing would happen to her. Maybe Natasha was right, and it would be fairly routine and his initial doom-filled thoughts would stay in his head and out of fruition.

"Hey," she said, stealing his attention back, and he looked up to find a small smile back on her face. "Remember how when you came back from your last mission you were all hopped up on adrenaline and like super horny? Maybe we'll both be like that after this and we can just destroy this room."

He chuckled at her attempt to cheer him up, and pressed a soft kiss to her lips before he replied sincerely, "As long as you promise to not leave my side and do everything I tell you while we're there, we can do _anything_ you want after."

* * *

Shopping didn't turn out to be as much of a nightmare as Summer thought it would be. Natasha was quite good at grabbing something from a rack, throwing it at her, and then the article of clothing in question turning out to be completely perfect for what Summer needed. This time was no different, and with that part of her worries laid to rest, all Summer had to do was wait and try not to go crazy in the meantime.

Steve, technically the "boss" when it came to Avengers ops, decided that they would wait for Saturday night, which would be the club's busiest night. The busier they were, the more secure they'd feel to do their secretive business behind closed doors while their patrons unknowingly lined their pockets. The upside to waiting a bit longer was that Summer had more time to plan for that night, and get a babysitter secured.

The downside of waiting was... well, waiting.

But when the day came, Summer's nagging anxiety suddenly sprang forward in full force, and she wished that she was still waiting and that the day hadn't come yet. It didn't matter, though, and all there was to do was suck it up and get past it, and remind herself that this was her chance to really help and contribute to all of this heroic weirdness that she was constantly surrounded by.

And the first thing that she had to do to contribute to said weirdness was stuff herself into the dress she had bought and get her very long, very dark brown hair shoved up underneath a glamorous blonde wig.

"Ow," she muttered as Natasha pinned her hair up above her neck, looking at herself half-ready in the mirror. Nat had been ready for an hour, in ridiculously high _red_ heels and a long black coat buttoned fully, and while the others finished prepping, she had offered to help Summer get herself together.

"Sorry, but you don't want your real hair to fall out of your wig," she said, putting in the last pin as Summer breathed a sigh of relief. "Now for the fun part."

Not sure if it really qualified as fun to be putting the thing on top of her head that would likely be the cause of at least one bucketful of head sweat tonight, Summer sat still anyway and let Natasha grab the wavy blonde wig and carefully fix it on her head. She had never been blonde before, so once Nat had it on perfect and Summer was able to get a good look at herself, it was quite strange.

"My God, I'm Britney Spears," she said, unsure of how she felt about that.

"I don't know if that's what I'd go with," Natasha said. "Where's your eyeliner?"

"There in my bag," Summer replied, gesturing to a small makeup bag on the sink in front of the mirror she was still staring in.

"Turn around," Natasha said, locating said eyeliner as Summer turned.

"What are you doing?" she asked curiously.

"Making you look more vintage and less pop star," Natasha replied with a grin, and Summer sighed in relief.

"You know, you could have a second career as a stylist," she said as Natasha turned her regular eyeliner job into a flawless winged one.

"I could have a second career as a lot of things," Nat admitted. "You tend to pick up a lot, doing what I do."

After fixing her eyeliner, Natasha then said, "You should go with a red lipstick to finish off with."

"... I don't actually own any red lipstick," Summer replied, and Natasha looked at her incredulously before grabbing her own bag and pulling out a tube of lipstick from it.

"Every woman needs to own at least one good shade of red lipstick," she said, handing it to Summer.

"I never thought I could pull it off," Summer shrugged.

"Just like you didn't think you could pull off that black dress for Tony's party, but look at what you're wearing now," Nat pointed out with a grin, and Summer looked down at the dress in question, unable to believe how comfortable she really did feel in it.

"... You're getting at another lesson in confidence, aren't you?" Summer guessed, just before turning around to put on the lipstick.

"As long as you believe you can, you can pull off just about anything," Natasha replied. "Except crocs. I've yet to see a single human being who looks good in crocs."

Summer laughed, finishing with the lipstick and handing it back to her. Looking in the mirror was almost like looking at another woman entirely, with long, wavy blonde hair, and immaculately vintage makeup, but all she had to do was then almost trip over her own feet while standing completely still to remind herself that she was, indeed, the same person under her glamorous disguise.

"Try not to do that in the club," Natasha advised, giving her an amused look as she grabbed her bag.

"Yeah, I'll try not," Summer replied as she turned and followed Natasha out of the bathroom. "Hey, thanks for all your help as usual, I really appreciate..."

She trailed off because as soon as she stepped out of the bathroom, her eyes fell upon Bucky sitting on the bottom edge of her bed, in a dark gray suit with a freaking bow tie, and his hair - she didn't even know how to describe the state of his hair and she completely missed the way that he was staring equally dumbfounded at her, mostly because she didn't have the chance to before David jumped up from the floor and hid behind Bucky.

Half-snapping out of it, Summer saw David peek out from behind Bucky's back before darting back again, and she asked in confusion, "... Is something wrong, or..."

"I don't think he recognizes you," Natasha said as she headed for the door. "By the way, don't take too long. We leave in ten."

Then Natasha was gone, and Summer was approaching Bucky and her freaked-out son, trying not to focus too much on the way that Bucky's mouth was half-hanging open and his eyes were moving slowly up from her heels to the rest of her. Ignoring him as best she could, she looked behind him and smiled at the way that David was clinging to the back of Bucky's jacket.

"David," she said gently, pulling the blonde hair back from her face, "it's me - I've just got fake hair and weird makeup on. See?"

Slowly, David relaxed as he looked at her more closely, and then he let go of his death grip on Bucky and sat back, though he still looked quite confused as to why she looked like that. She tried to think of a reasonable excuse that he would understand, but the best that she came up with was, "I, uh... I wanted to see how I'd look with blonde hair! And... yeah! So see, nothing to worry about."

David seemed to accept that answer, but he also looked like he thought that she was nuts, giving her one last look before getting off the bed and returning to his spot on the floor in front of the TV. Now that he was no longer under the impression that there was a blonde intruder in his room, Summer was able to refocus on the _other_ person demanding her attention, who had not taken their eyes off of her once since she had first walked into the room.

She looked at him a bit shyly, for some reason losing some of her nerve now that she had no excuse to not look at him and die all over again. In fact, she was getting a very distinct vibe from his overall look, and it would be totally complete if he only had...

... _Wait_. Were those glasses he was holding in his lap?

She was interrupted from her thoughts by his right hand reaching out and touching above her knee, below where her short dress ended on her thighs, and she watched him look up from her legs, over her dress and up to her face as he said quietly, "You look like you just walked out of a movie."

_Well_. If that was true, she supposed there was no better way to look when about to leave to go bust HYDRA.

She smiled as he stood up, his hand trailing up from her leg to over her hip and stopping over her waist. "I take it I don't make a terrible blonde, then."

He laughed softly, then took a few pieces of the hair between his fingers and said, "Not at all. It's different, but... damn."

Her smile widened and she felt like an idiot, but then she remembered what he was holding in his other hand and asked, "Are those glasses?"

He held them up and nodded. "Yeah, these are Steve's. They're fake. He said I should try to disguise myself a little more, but..."

She was about to say that yes, yes he should, but then he pulled the glasses apart and slipped him on his face, and she had to bite her lip to keep from her first thought popping out of her head.

Then she decided screw it and verbalized the thought anyway. "You look like a hot professor and I might die."

He laughed at her sudden rushed outburst of words, and she suddenly wondered if she would even be able to focus on the mission at hand when _this_ was what would be by her side all night.

* * *

She might have thought that he looked like a "hot professor", but to him, she looked like the kind of woman that a teenage version of himself would have wanted to pin up a picture of in his bedroom.

Beyond the shock of the long blonde hair framing her face, her dress was a force all its own. Short enough to give him a perfect view of her legs that looked absolutely perfect standing in her heels, it was a deep scarlet and hugged the rest of her like a glove. It was cut like a halter, with the neckline split down into a shallow V that gave just enough of a peek of what lay beneath without being _too_ much. Then, when she had turned slightly to talk to David, he had seen the back of the dress, which exposed her upper back and criss-crossed over the middle and lower parts, giving glimpses of her skin that made him stare, and it all did a fantastic job of briefly making him almost forget why they were even there in the first place.

But then he remembered. He had two things to give to her before they could leave.

As her eyes continued to dart down over his suit and then his face, especially the glasses, she almost distracted him all over again with the way that she bit her lower red lip. But he kept the immediate thoughts of that lipstick smearing on his own lips and _other_ places at bay as he cleared his throat quietly and then pulled a tiny little earpiece from his pocket.

"You have to wear this," he said, and she snapped out of her daze, blinking as she looked down at the earpiece and nodded.

"Oh. Okay. Wow. This is like a TV show," she said, and he controlled his urge to point out that it was much more dangerous than that. She already knew that. She was just still processing her role in this mission.

He reached up and gently put the piece in her ear, and once they'd tested it, he turned around and grabbed her black coat off of the bed. "I had this lined with Kevlar on the inside."

Her eyes widened to comic proportions as she slowly took the coat from his hands, looking from it to him several times before she half-stuttered, "But... holy crap... Kevlar?"

"I don't know how long you'll be able to keep it on without attracting attention," he said quietly, "but try to keep it on as long as you can."

"O...kay," she said, inspecting the coat and then blowing out a breath of air as she added, "I'm gonna feel like Batman wearing this thing."

As long as she was safe, he didn't care what kind of real or fake superhero she felt like, but he was fairly sure that she meant it in a good way. Then, just as she had started to put the coat on, he stopped her because he had just remembered a third thing that he still needed to give her. He took her hand and led her to his room, and she followed without question.

"Sit here," he said, leading her to sit down on the edge of his unmade bed, and with one fleeting thought that ran through his head of how he was going to end the night with her in that very bed, overwhelmed with relief at everything having gone well and being over, he forced himself to look away and turn towards his dresser. A moment of rummaging later, he turned back around and watched her curious expression become one of slight dread.

"Man. I was hoping you'd forget that," she said, eyeing the knife and leg holster in his hands like it was just about the last thing she wanted to say.

"I know. But," he said, kneeling down in front of her, "it's extra protection in case something goes wrong." Then he looked at her and asked, "Remember what I showed you?"

She nodded. "Where to aim with a knife, which spots will do the most damage the fastest," she said quietly. He nodded. He hadn't enjoyed that lesson either, but she had needed to know. "I wish you'd just give me one of those guns I know you've got hidden under that suit."

"Harder to hide under this dress," he pointed out with a slight grin, and then his hand was on her knee, pulling her leg slightly more apart from the other while his other hand slid the hem of her dress up higher. Then he set the knife down and focused on getting the leather holster on her leg, sliding it as high on her thigh as it could comfortably go and then fastening it snugly. He didn't look up as he grabbed the knife, knowing that what he would see would be too distracting, so he carefully slid the knife within the sheath and double checked the holster to make sure it was fastened well, before he gently tugged her dress back down and over the weapon. _Then_ he allowed himself to look up.

She was watching him intently, her bottom lip between her teeth again, looking like the picture of false innocence under her shiny blonde hair and eyes that were still taking in his "disguise" and betrayed the thoughts surely going through her head. He knew her, knew how her mind ran wild with things she'd never say out loud but might write down instead.

He leaned up slowly and she leaned down at the same time, and just before he could have the one taste of those red lips that he would allow himself to have before they had to get down to business, Steve's voice in their ears ruined the moment.

"Waiting on the lovebirds."

She jumped a little, like she had forgotten about her earpiece, and then she let out a nervous laugh that made him smile and chuckle a little in turn. His forehead against hers, he raised a finger to his ear and replied, "On our way." Then he kissed her cheek, and after he stood up, he reached down and helped her stand to her feet. "Ready?"

She took a breath and gave him a look. "Actually, yes. I'm starving. After this is over, maybe I'll be able to actually get something down my throat without gagging." Then, just as she started to walk, she stopped, raised a finger, and told him sternly, "Don't say what I know you're thinking."

He just smiled at her and replied, "I actually wasn't going to say anything. Maybe you're the one with the dirty mind." Then he grabbed her hand, and they walked out of his room together, him grinning and her rolling her eyes.

After that, Summer grabbed David from her room and brought him out to the person who had agreed to watch him for the night, who was in the kitchen stealing a spoonful of cookie dough that Summer had made in a fit of nervous energy the day before. When Darcy looked up from the spoon and saw them walking out of the hallway, she choked a little and exclaimed "Holy f...udge!"

"Thank you for the censorship," Summer smiled, "and thank you again for agreeing to do this."

David quickly scampered off towards the television, bored already with the talking, and Darcy replied, "No problem, but what the hell! You're blonde! And... you're seriously so hot right now that _I_ would make out with you!"

Summer laughed, still nervously, and replied, "... Thanks, I guess. But, uh, yeah, so, he's allergic to -"

"Peanuts and bananas, yeah, I memorized that very long list of instructions you gave me," Darcy waved off, turning her gaze to Bucky. "And you! You know what you look like with that suit and those glasses?"

"Hot professor?" Summer guessed.

"Yes!" Darcy exclaimed. "Exactly what I was going to say."

Bucky couldn't help but be slightly confused. He was just about to ask what was so appealing about that particular look when Summer tightened her grip on his hand and said, "It's completely true. But we've gotta go, so -"

"Yup," Darcy nodded, flapping her hands in a shooing manner. "Go. Have your weird 'date night'. Your kid is safe with me."

Summer expressed her deep thanks, and then after telling David goodbye one more time, they were finally in the elevator and officially on their way.

In the brief quiet moment, Bucky looked over at Summer and asked as she buttoned up her coat, "What is it with this professor thing? Am I missing something?"

Summer just looked up at him in disbelief before smiling like she was holding in a laugh. "Wow. You're serious. Um... I'll tell you later."

"Why?"

He watched a blush creep up her cheeks as she shook her head and said, "Because if I think about it enough to explain it, I'm gonna majorly mess up my focus and I'm nervous enough. Just... trust me."

He took her word for it and didn't press any further. He did grin slightly to himself though, not having anticipated such simple things as a fake pair of glasses and a bow tie to be such a standout thing.

Then, when the elevator had nearly reached its destination, he looked over and felt his grin return as Summer groaned and muttered, "Dammit. Now I'm thinking about it anyway."

* * *

Thankfully, Summer got her focus back as soon as they had cleared the tower and were on the way to the club. Everybody was getting there in different ways, and for her and Bucky, that meant that she got to ride in the passenger seat of one of Tony's sportscars. And not just any one of them, but a brand new European model that she couldn't even pronounce the name of, and she had to ask as she tried to watch the road and not the visual feast that was Bucky driving the thing, "Isn't this going to draw attention?"

"Not really," he replied, and she absolutely refused to watch his right hand as it shifted gears. "This will actually make us look more like we belong there."

"I didn't know that rich people were so into burlesque," Summer remarked, anxiety starting to creep higher the closer they got to the club. Her fingers were playing mindlessly with the buttons of her coat, which, surprisingly enough, didn't feel all that much heavier despite the fact that Bucky had it turned essentially bulletproof without her knowledge. She didn't know whether to be touched or terrified by the gesture, but she was currently floating somewhere in between and reminding herself for the billionth time that it was relatively unlikely that anything horrible would happen tonight.

When Bucky drove them not to the club directly but to a parking spot on the street a short walk away, she gave him a curious look to which he replied, "We don't want to be waiting on a valet when we're done in there."

"Oh. Right. Makes sense," she said, taking off her seatbelt once the engine was off. He stopped her before she could reach for the door handle.

"I know I've made you go over this a lot already, but..."

She sighed and drew a breath. "Act natural. Smile. Appear as if I'm there on a date with you, which means look happy and relaxed. Scan the crowds but don't do it too much. And the minute I see the guy, either tell you or put my hair behind my ear, which will be the signal."

Bucky nodded. "All right. And don't leave my side."

"What if I have to pee?" she asked half-jokingly.

Without blinking, he said, "Then I'll sneak in the bathroom with you and if anyone notices we'll make them think we went in there to have sex."

Her eyes widened slightly and she asked, "Wouldn't that get us kicked out?"

"Just... leave all of that to me," Bucky shrugged.

She nodded, deciding that she would just do her best to not have to pee while they were there, and then Bucky was getting out of the car and opening her door for her before she could gather her wits about her fully. He helped her step out of the car, then slid his arm around her waist as they began walking down the sidewalk. She could see the club up ahead and see people walking into it, and if Bucky could somehow sense her last wave of anxiety, it sure seemed that way, because he leaned in as they walked and said into her ear, "Don't be nervous. I'll compromise the whole mission if it means keeping you safe."

She looked up at him, unsure how to react to that at first. In that split second, she remembered the man he had once been, confused and angrier than Bruce Banner on a bad day, a man who only decided to not lodge a bullet in his own brain for the sake of staying alive to seek revenge. That had been his only purpose in staying alive, but now, _now_, he was willing to let those enemies slip past him and slither back into safety just for her sake. And she could tell by the look in his eye that he wasn't the least bit apologetic by it.

She realized just before they reached the club that this must be what it felt like to be put first, in every sense of the word.

She never had a chance to answer, though, because then they were at the club's entrance, and after that, it was all about getting in and doing her best to act natural - not be paranoid looking and not appear overly happy, either, and she figured that she must have been fine, because they got through the front security detail with no problem. All the while, Bucky kept his hand on her waist, keeping her close but not close enough to look out of the ordinary.

She didn't know what she was expecting, but she felt like she was walking into an old movie when they walked through the small hallway in the entrance and then out into the main room. Everything was awash in red and gold and accents of black, dimly lit and more spacious than it appeared on the outside. Tables lined the space in front of the main stage, and there was a bar on the opposite side of the room, which was where Bucky steered them towards until a friendly woman offering to take Summer's coat for her appeared.

She had not expected that to happen, but going off the whole "act natural" thing, Summer smiled and gave up her coat to the lady, and as soon as the lady was gone, Bucky muttered under his breath, "I wish you would have said no."

"You said act natural!" she hissed quietly as he started leading her back towards the bar. "It's not even cold outside, and it's definitely not cold in here."

He didn't say another word about it, and she simply focused on trying to look normal, whatever that meant, as he helped her into a seat at the bar before taking the one next to her and sliding it slightly closer to hers. He smiled pleasantly at her and took her hand in his, and she remembered that they were supposed to look like they were on a date, so she smiled back and tried not to jump when she heard Natasha's voice in her ear.

"Second floor's full of VIP rooms," she said, and Summer listened as she watched Bucky signal to the bartender. "Keep an eye on those, seems like most of the activity is there."

Summer glanced up and briefly took in the rooms that Natasha had mentioned, but before she could really get a good look at any of them and the people walking in and out of them, the lights dimmed and all of the attention in the room became focused on the stage.

Bucky squeezing her hand stole her attention from the three girls who had just appeared on the stage. She looked at him and he nodded towards the drink in front of her, and she took one look at it before she smiled and gave him an incredulous look. He merely smiled in turn and leaned in and said, "Take small sips. Act natural."

"But whiskey?" she asked, knowing that he knew full well that it took very little of the stuff to knock her off her feet.

"Suits you, remember?" he replied, and she tried not to roll her eyes as she gave in and picked up the glass. One very tiny sip later, she was wincing and setting it back down. It was not quite up to par with Tony Stark's personal collection.

Then she turned her eyes back to the stage, where the girls were about halfway to undressed, and down in one of the tables, she spotted Steve and Sam's heads turned towards the show. She scanned the other men present, wherever the lighting allowed her to get a clear look, but nobody looked anything like the guy she'd seen. Unfortunately, the guy had a fairly generic look, too - Caucasian, average height, brown hair, most likely brown eyes though she wasn't 100% sure. The only defining feature that she was hoping would for sure identify him was what she was _pretty_ sure had been a thin scar on the left side of his mouth.

If she was wrong, and if she ended up not being able to identify the guy and all of this was for nothing...

She grabbed the whiskey and took another unpleasant sip, mentally hushing her own thought process and glancing at Bucky as he stared ahead. To anyone else, he would have looked relatively engrossed in the show, but she could tell that his brain was as far away as hers was. She also caught his eyes darting around quickly, noticed how much he was paying attention to everything without looking like he was, and when he caught her staring, he grinned at her like they really were on a date and asked, "How's your drink?"

"... Almost drinkable," she replied, and when he leaned in to peck her cheek, she asked into his ear, "Where's Natasha?"

"Infiltrating," he whispered back, and though she furrowed her brows in confusion as to what that meant, she quickly smiled like they'd been whispering sweet nothings to each other and then watched him knock back half of his own drink in one gulp.

On the stage, the three girls were just about done with their routine, finally removing their corsets with a graceful flourish, and Summer couldn't help but stare a little wide-eyed for a moment. She wasn't familiar with burlesque beyond a few references in movies here and there, so getting a fairly up-close look left her knowing that she would never look at tassels the same way again. But, much more than that, she immediately admired any woman confident enough to get up and do that with the kinds of breezy playfulness that the women had.

"I'd never be able to do that," Summer sighed as the ladies blew kisses to the crowd before disappearing behind the curtain. "Not even... like... in the mirror."

She caught Bucky's look that he gave her, a sort of amused but completely sincere kind of look as he shook his head and said, "You can do _anything_, Summer."

To be fair, she decided, she _was_ sitting in the middle of a HYDRA hangout with a knife strapped to her thigh and the Winter Soldier at her side. He _might_ be right. Slightly. Just not when it came to the dancing mostly naked thing.

She just still couldn't get past the damn glasses on his face.

"Should we get a table?" she asked when the lights went back up some, as he finished his drink and she forced herself to take another drink of hers.

His eyes swept along the entire building, top to bottom, in less time than she could check her cell phone, and then she tried to do the same thing, albeit probably a lot less subtly. She saw some movement up above, a few men in suits leaving them and then one entering one with a scantily clad girl on his arm, but none of them looked like the guy that they were looking for.

"Yeah," Bucky finally agreed, leaving a small stack of money on the bar and then taking her hand and helping her down to her feet. He immediately pulled her in with his hand on her waist, the way that he'd been walking her around all night, and she took the walk towards the tables as an opportunity to get a better look around. But still, she saw nothing.

Before they got to a table, the lights went down again. Summer was following Bucky down a small number of steps when she looked up and promptly let her jaw fall to the floor. Bucky hadn't been kidding about Nat infiltrating the place.

Alone on the stage was none other than Natasha herself, sauntering out in a long blood-red dress with a slit that ran all the way up her leg, a sweetheart neckline at the top that pushed up her _assets_ in a way that could make even Summer drool a little bit. As if that wasn't enough, she had black leather gloves on that ended well past her elbows, and as she stared, Summer's first thought was that somewhere, Jessica Rabbit was seething in jealousy.

But, as Bucky's tug on her waist reminded her, they weren't here to stare at Natasha. She started walking again, following him and sitting down beside him at an empty table as a slow, sensual jazz tune wafted through the air, the brass instruments almost whining in temptation. Nat swayed teasingly to the underlying bass, her eyes half-lidded and red lips curved in a teasing smile. Since most of the club was too dark to see much beyond what was in front of her, Summer kept watching, feeling her admiration for Natasha jump even higher than it had been before. There truly was nothing the woman couldn't do, it seemed.

Slowly but surely, Natasha had smoothly inched off the leather gloves and tossed them behind her after giving them a few swings. But, the very best part came a few moments later. As the music reached new heights, she slowly turned her back to the audience and unzipped the back of the dress, revealing the creamy white skin of her back. Then, by swaying her hips, the dress fell lazily down her body, until it was eventually in a pool at her feet that she kicked away with one high heeled foot. She then turned around, her predatory gaze immediately going to one particular face in the crowd as she showed off her ensemble of royal blue and black lingerie - a black-lace trimmed strapless bra, matching garter and panties and black hose. Summer looked across the tables to Steve and saw his mouth hanging open and a blush that could rival her own when Bucky tortured her. She couldn't help but wonder aloud, "You think the blue and red thing was just a coincidence?"

"... Nothing she ever does is a coincidence," Bucky replied, and Summer had to concur. Steve was a lucky soldier. That much was beyond obvious.

After she looked again at Steve and smiled at the way that he was utterly dumbfounded at what he was seeing, Summer used their new angle to her advantage and looked up at the top floor again. The rooms had glass walls but were darkened for privacy, and it really was hard to see anything with the lights, _but_, to her immediate surprise, she saw something. She saw the outline of a man, a younger one, walking up the stairs and then heading to one of the rooms with not one but two girls. He looked towards the stage once, and that was when enough light hit his face for Summer to see that he might have been the guy that they were looking for.

She slipped her hand on Bucky's leg and leaned in like she was going to nuzzle or kiss his neck. "I think I saw him. Second room on the right."

She pulled away by an inch or two then, and he looked down at her before leaning in himself, kissing her cheekbone and looking up at the rooms through the cover of her hair as he asked, "You're sure?"

Not at all opposed to this form of sneaky communication, she turned and kissed his lips briefly before moving closer to his ear and replying, "I need a closer look."

"That's a problem," he whispered back.

"I know," she sighed. Then, a light bulb suddenly went off in her head. She pulled back and looked at him with suddenly bright eyes. "I have an idea."

Mere seconds later, Summer was dragging Bucky by the hand up the same flight of stairs that the potentially bad guy had been jogging up a moment before. She then turned around and gave him a flirty smile as she took his other hand as well, pulling him towards the door of the room and watching a grin to mirror hers spread across his lips. That was her only warning before he pounced on her, slamming her to the door and kissing her almost brutally, just as they had planned downstairs.

As he ruined her lipstick and one of his hands made her previously immaculately wig look every bit as messy as her normal hair would have at this point, his disguised left hand made a fist and broke the door open, then loosened and took her waist as they stumbled into the room. He then pushed her into the nearest wall, and she moaned shamelessly loudly as his tongue warred with hers, his hands moving down to her lips and one moving down to grip the back of her thigh and pull her leg up over his as he let out a moan of his own.

That was when she heard an irritated voice to her right shout, "Oh, come on, guys - get your own room!"

Breaking apart like they had only just then realized that they weren't alone, Summer smiled apologetically while Bucky obliviously started kissing down her neck. She took a good look at the guy, who had a girl on either side of him on a leather couch, and exclaimed, "I'm so sorry! We thought the room was empty!"

As soon as she saw him, she knew that it was the same guy, scar and all. Before he had a chance to respond, she turned and whispered into Bucky's ear, "It's him."

"Stay behind me," he whispered back immediately, and then she watched him stand up straight and switch from ravenous lover to utterly lethal threat in the blink of an eye as he turned towards the man. She stayed behind him as ordered while he pulled a gun out from his jacket, aimed it at the man who instantly turned as pale as a ghost, and then ordered the girls next to him, "Get out."

They scrambled out of there in less time than it took to breathe, and then Bucky slowly advanced on the man, whose hands were up in surrender. "You're coming with me. One word and you'll regret it."

As pale and terrified as the guy was, he still managed to smile weakly and reply, "Too late."

And then Summer watched chaos erupt.

No less than seven armed men then burst into the room, and for one very terrifying moment, she thought that everything had gone horribly wrong. But, as she shrank back into the corner even more than she already was, it quickly became apparent how absolutely routine this was for Bucky.

The men converged on him and ignored her, perhaps thinking that she was one of the ladies from downstairs and thus irrelevant, and two of them instantly crumpled to the ground with distinctly metal thumps to the head. All she could see was a blur of movement, of limbs and weapons and bodies struggling, and she jumped when she heard a gunshot go off, followed by another, but the first one ricocheted off of Bucky's arm and the other went into a man's leg. That man hit the ground, and then Summer got a brief clear glimpse of what was happening.

The guy they had come here for was starting to scramble away, and Bucky was kicking one of the security guys in the chest while another had him in a chokehold from behind. She watched as Bucky reached back and grabbed the guy by the arm and then threw him into the wall in front of them, cracking the glass and sending the man to the ground with a dull thud, and then he only had two more to deal with. But, Summer quickly realized that their actual target was not trying to get away but was coming for _her, _and she forgot all about the knife on her thigh as she instinctively stepped back and knocked into the wall behind her.

Maybe he planned to stick a gun to her head and use her as leverage, or maybe he was going to grab her and try to make off with her as his hostage or something - she had no clue, and she didn't want to find out, and in her panic, her hand brushed on something hard behind her, on the wall.

It turned out to be handcuffs. She had exactly a fraction of a second to register the various little "toys" behind her, on the wall, and before she could even think it through, she grabbed a riding crop just as the guy reached down for a gun that had been thrown to the floor, only a few feet away from her. She lunged forward and whipped him across the face, and to her shock, he cried out and stumbled to the floor before he had even touched the gun. She kicked it away and then held the riding crop like the weapon she had turned it into, heart pounding and head _really_ wishing that he wouldn't get up.

But he did. So she hit him again, and again. It seemed to be working pretty well in keeping him at bay, so she kept it up until she got him so hard that it instantly opened a gash in his forehead and he stumbled again, this time against a wall, as his last security guy hit the ground across the room.

That was when she looked up and saw Bucky rush over, looking no worse for wear aside from a bullet-shaped hole in his left jacket sleeve. She stood there, riding crop still firm in hand, panting from the effort as he looked first at her, then what was in her hand, and then the guy bleeding from his face against the wall and half on the floor. Then he looked at her again, and she couldn't tell if it was pride or admiration or just sheer amusement, or all three, that she saw flicker through his eyes right before he kicked the guy in the head and knocked him unconscious.

And just then, Natasha burst into the room, gun raised and still dressed in what was left of her lingerie - the garter and hose were gone - and after she took a look at all the unconscious men on the floor, Summer _still_ holding the riding crop with her wig very messy, and Bucky standing there with her lipstick smeared on his lips, she lowered her gun and said with a slight smirk, "Well. Looks like I missed the party."

Summer laughed, and the sound surprised even herself. She dropped the riding crop to the floor then, and as she continued to laugh, she put a hand to her face and realized that her heart was pounding probably dangerously hard and that her legs were shaking quite hard beneath her. She moved to lean against a wall, and as the laughter subsided, she looked up at Bucky first, who was now smiling at her, and then Nat, who looked pretty amused, and with a shrug, Summer asked, "... Mission accomplished?"

"Looks that way," Natasha smiled. "Steve and Sam are securing the first floor. Good job."

Summer let out a deep, relieved breath, deciding that regardless of how terrifyingly exhilarating it had all been, she _definitely_ didn't want to do this again anytime soon. She thought that it must have showed on her face, because then Bucky was closer and pulling her into an embrace that she sank into with a slight giggle that was a result of her leftover nervous energy.

"Why didn't you go for the knife?" he asked against her ear, and she could hear rather than see the slight smile on his face.

She shrugged against his shoulder. "... Riding crops are more my style, I guess?"

He laughed quietly, and it was a low rumble against her chest that made her smile as she drew back a few inches, wondering how he could smile at her so warmly and sweetly after having just pounded about eight guys into the ground.

But, everything had turned out all right after all. And it was an adventure she would never, ever, forget.

* * *

"Oh my God, I am _starving_. Can we get food on the way home?"

Bucky smiled at Summer as she slumped into the passenger seat of the car, all of her anxiety and nervous energy gone now that the operation was over and they were on their way home. He turned on the car and replied, "I guess so. What do you want?"

"Like... the world's largest fry and a triple cheeseburger," she said, closing her eyes before they shot open and she added, "And a _milkshake_. I haven't had a milkshake in like a year."

He chuckled again, driving out on to the street and feeling quite a heavy sense of relief of his own now that it was over. He had gone into the mission prepared to let every HYDRA operative in the building go if it meant keeping her from harm, and he had left it achieving the objective and also gaining a new appreciation for Summer's quick thinking and resourcefulness in tight situations. The way that they had burst into the VIP room had been all her idea, and her creative use of a riding crop would be forever seared into his memory.

She had once pointed out that for an average girl from Virginia, she was pretty tough. He agreed on all but one point - she was far from average.

She babbled the whole way home, through many mouthfuls of french fries, about the mission and how terrifying but bizarrely awesome it had been, how hot he looked when he was taking down a roomful of armed HYDRA goons ("Like because I've never seen you in action before, besides with just a few people at once, and there was like eight guys and you just dropped them all like flies and _damn_!"), how stunned she still was over Natasha's routine ("It's not even fair! She's perfect! If I was a dude, I would so want her to have all my babies. I would _worship_ her."), and how nice it was to finally be able to eat ("Oh my God, this is the best five pounds I have ever put on in one meal.").

Meanwhile, he simply tried to not be too distracted by her high-heeled foot propped up on the dash. It was her right leg and it was extremely unladylike, considering how short her dress was, but he controlled the urge to lean forward and steal a closer look. He just needed to get her home, and put that leftover energy between them to better use.

Once they got back to the tower, he returned the car back to its place in Tony's garage and then they headed up to the floor they called home. She grabbed his left arm and examined the bullet hole in his sleeve, frowned at it but accepted his explanation that the bullet had bounced harmlessly off of the metal after burning through the sleeve. He stared at her and held back the desire to push her against the elevator wall and kiss her until he couldn't breathe, because he knew that any minute the elevator doors would open and Summer would be putting David to bed while he waited for her in his room.

And that was exactly what happened, except David was already passed out on the couch.

"Wow!" Summer whispered to Darcy, who was sitting next to David and playing on her phone. "He's asleep already?"

"I might have let him eat so much junk that he passed out after an epic sugar crash," Darcy replied. "Sorry about that."

"It's fine," Summer shrugged, stepping around the couch to pick him up, still in her wig and heels and all. "Thank you again. I'll pay you as soon as I get my next paycheck."

Darcy waved a hand at her and shrugged, "Don't worry about it. It was fun. He killed me at Smash Brothers, though. Kid's got mad skills."

Bucky watched Summer smile and reply, "I know! I don't even have to let him win on that game."

Then, a few seconds later, she was carefully carrying the boy out of the living room and towards the hallway. When she passed Bucky, who had been reaching up to finally take off his fake glasses, she stopped and whispered, "Don't take those off yet. Please?" When he slowly dropped his hand, leaving them on and giving her a curiously amused look, she blinked a few times and said, "It's like you and your thing with wanting me to keep my shoes on. Kinda."

Before he could reply, she reddened a little and then dashed off towards her room. He smiled to himself, then glanced behind him and noticed Darcy watching with her arms crossed over the back of the couch.

"She asked you to keep the glasses on, didn't she?" Darcy guessed. When Bucky didn't immediately answer, she sighed and turned around, flopping against the couch. "You sickeningly pretty people and your disgustingly awesome sexcapades."

His eyebrows furrowed slightly, but he wasn't about to ask. Instead, he looked back towards the hall, and he realized that he wanted to do something a bit special for Summer tonight, having just watched her exhibit considerable bravery and determination tonight and indeed since she had caught the HYDRA guy in one of Stark's supply rooms. But what?

He had a feeling that the best part of the night for her would be something he made up as he went along. But for now, his eyes drifted towards the part of the kitchen were the alcohol was kept.

A short time later, he was in his room, shoes and suit jacket off, and he was sitting on the bottom of his bed and undoing the bow tie under his neck when he heard two soft little knocks followed by the door creaking open. She always knocked, even though by now he thought it was pretty unnecessary.

She slipped inside, wig gone and dark hair down and hanging nearly to her waist, smiling almost shyly as she closed the door behind her. She was still in her dress and her heels as well, and though he appreciated the gesture and the way her legs looked in them, he wished that she wouldn't further abuse her feet just for his benefit. He almost said something about it, but then she spotted the champagne and two empty flutes sitting on his desk and she asked, "Champagne? Are we celebrating our first... joint night of HYDRA busting?"

He smiled and stood up, motioning for her to follow him to the desk. "Sort of. I also thought you could use something to take the edge off."

"Surprisingly, I feel pretty good," she said, stopping next to him as he worked on uncorking the bottle. "I'm kinda tired, but nowhere near ready to fall asleep."

Getting the cork off with a noisy pop, he gave her a look in reply to her last remark, and she grinned at him before he turned back to the champagne and poured it into the flutes. Then, he handed her a glass and then took one for himself, turning to face her as he said, "I'm glad it's over."

"Me too," she sighed before taking a healthy sip. He took a smaller sip, watching her throat as she swallowed and after she drew the glass away from her lips, she moaned faintly and said, "Man, that's good."

She had no idea how the little things like that drove him crazy. All it took was a little moan barely audible to human ears over the taste of expensive champagne and he was ready to throw his own glass down and shove her against the wall again.

But he didn't. He had something to say first.

"Thank you for listening to me tonight," he said quietly. "You were perfect."

She looked a little surprised as she smiled and replied, "Well... I trust you, and I know that _that_ is your territory and what you're best at. I knew I was safe with you."

He nodded, never taking expressions of her trust for granted. "I'm sorry that you had to beat a man's face with a riding crop," he said with a completely straight face, at least until she smiled and started laughing.

"You'll never let me forget that, will you?"

He shook his head. "Nobody will."

She groaned and finished her champagne in one more gulp, then said, "Sam already said that if I became a superhero my weapon should be a superpowered riding crop."

Bucky chuckled with her, then took the empty glass from her and set it back on his desk before turning back to her and reaching his right hand to a strand of hair on her cheek. He brushed it behind her ear and said quietly, "One more thing before I stop controlling myself from having you right now on the desk." Her eyes widened a little and she instantly blushed slightly at the unexpected words. He grinned and then said, "Explain the professor thing and why I'm still wearing these glasses for you."

Her blush deepened and she smiled, looking down and shaking her head. "It's... oh, man. You're really making me do this."

He nodded and tipped her chin up with finger so that she couldn't stare at the floor. "Yes I am."

He could see her squirming where she stood, and he could see that whatever it was, he'd have to coax it out of her. "Well... okay, so it's just... a thing. A thing that I have, and I've had it for awhile, but keep in mind that I've never actually met or encountered an actual hot profess-oh..."

He smiled against her neck, having just leaned in and pressed his lips to it while she was mid sentence, and as he kissed upwards, he murmured, "Go on."

He could feel her swallow under his lips before she spoke again. "You know how my brain works. I've got a writer's brain and it just goes with things and ideas pop up the second I see something and... and..."

One hand in her hair and the other on the small of her back, pressing her hips into his as he turned her and slowly pushed her back to the desk, he kissed his way to her ear and breathily said, "And?"

"... And kinda like I did with the farm thing... the minute I saw you in that suit and glasses all I could think of was you and me as a professor and student."

Her lower back hit the desk, and he pulled back far enough to look at her as a grin spread across his lips. "Oh. You didn't mention the student part before."

She widened her eyes slightly and replied, "Well... duh."

She looked a little embarrassed, but also incredibly turned on as she slid her hands into his hair and bit her still-red lip. He let one of his hands slide across the bare skin of her upper back and teasingly brushed his lips along hers as he said, "So tell me why you like it."

She bit back a whine as she cringed slightly, though her cringe quickly faded as he kissed the corner of her mouth and then began a slow trail back down to her neck. "I... well... it's the... you know, it's really hard to think when your tongue is... ugh..."

He smiled again, nipping where his tongue had just teasingly flicked, and then he raised his head and lifted one eyebrow at her. "I'm waiting."

She sighed and closed her eyes before blurting, "It's the forbidden thing, you know? The super hot forbidden affair with a super hot guy in a position of authority. It's dramatic and it's just _ugh_ because you know that to cross a line like that you'd just have to be _dying_ desperate for the person."

"...Position of authority," he repeated, the wheels turning in his head as he mulled over her words. He could see the appeal. But he'd see it even clearer if she spelled it out for him, and he was starting to really want her to.

"Yeah." She shrugged. "I'm a writer. It's what I do. Think up ideas that make me want to rip my own hair out and scream. Especially when they involve you."

He smirked faintly and then finally kissed her properly for the first time that night. She kissed back hungrily, like she was dying of thirst and he was water on her lips, and he lifted her up on to the desk, making her groan slightly, and he allowed her to believe for a few moments that the talking portion of the night was over. In truth, he just couldn't stop himself from tasting her and feeling her lips against his. As much as he loved everything they did together, kissing her would always hold a special place among it all. He could kiss her for hours and still not get enough.

Once he knew that her mind was off of fictional stories, he brought it right back there by breaking the kiss and saying against her lips, "Tell me what you would write."

Her eyes opened and stared at him in confusion. When his words sunk in, her mouth fell open a bit and she shook her head. "I... oh God, Bucky, I can't."

"Yes you can," he nodded. "Say it, and I'll do it."

Her embarrassed, slightly mortified expression became one of pure shock as she gaped at him. Then she smiled and half-gasped, "Are you serious?" He nodded, and she said in disbelief, "You're actually into this?"

He loved how surprised and almost giddy she looked in that moment. "You know I like how your mind works."

She bit her lip and then nodded, her hands on his shoulders as she then shook her head and closed her eyes briefly before smiling widely and saying, "Okay... um... wow. This might be a little weird saying it all out loud instead of just writing it, but..."

He kissed her again, then began slowly moving down, muttering, "Just talk. I'll distract you."

And he did, moving his lips over her throat and down to the open part of her dress, teasingly nuzzling the little peek of her breasts there as she began the story.

"So I'm a student... obviously... let's say I'm in my last year and I'm really close to graduating," she said, her hand in his hair as he began trying to figure out how to pull down her dress from behind her neck. "And what kind of professor would you be?"

He paused in his movements, no clue as to answer to that one.

"Languages," she said. "No. Russian. And I have to take a language as part of the required stuff."

"So you pick Russian," he chuckled, finally figuring the dress out and kissing her shoulder as he slowly eased it down.

"Sure, why not?" she asked, already sounding a bit out of breath. "So then, imagine my surprise when I go and have my first day of class and the professor's not an old gray-haired guy but instead he's..."

She faltered a little as pulled the dress down to her waist, his hands going to her breasts as he kissed over the swell of one. He glanced up at her. "He's what?"

"... You, exactly how you look today," she sighed, taking a deep breath to steady herself. Her hand in his hair tightened as he kept teasing her. "And at first, I do okay in the class. But eventually I can't focus. You're... you... just..." She leaned back on with her free hand on the desk as slowly drove her insane, suckling and licking and making her legs twitch around him. "You make it impossible to focus on anything but the way you sound when you're speaking the language. You catch me staring and you give me looks but I... ugh... I convince myself that it's all in my head and maybe you haven't even really noticed."

Taking a breath, he pulled his lips away from her breast and looked up at her before switching to the other one. "And then?"

She moaned, and the sound sent shivers down his spine and his blood rushing downwards as he continued his torture upon her. "And then... I try to completely ignore you. Just stare at my book and take notes without looking at you, but the thing is, your voice is enough to torture me. And when I try to ignore you, it seems like you call on me for answers more. And I almost always get them wrong."

He relented when her hand pulled on her hair, and he slid back up, planting his hands next to her hips as he asked, "What do I do about that?"

"Call..." she paused when kissed under her ear, "call me into your office. Ask me what's wrong, what I need to do better because you know I'm not stupid and I _should_ be getting better grades. I say it's just my focus that's messing me up, but I can't tell you that you're the reason I can't focus." He hummed in response, and she added, "And the whole time I'm in your office, you can't stop staring at my heels."

He chuckled against her neck, and she continued on, perhaps now getting into the groove of this form of storytelling. "And I'm pretty sure I'm imagining it, but still, from then on, I wear a different pair to every one of your classes. And every time, I catch you looking, either as I walk by or sit so that they're always in your line of sight."

"Tease," he smirked before capturing her lips in a short but deep kiss. She was painting a vivid picture in his head, and the thought of watching her like that, a couple days a week, knowing that she was looking at him and thinking things that would mean dire consequences for both of them if they ever came to fruition...

He was starting to get why she liked this scenario so much.

"This goes on the whole semester," said, breathing shortly as she pulled him down by his collar to pepper some kisses of her own on his neck before going on. "Stares and a lot of C's and a lot of money spent on shoes I buy just in the hopes that you'd stare at them and like them." He groaned slightly, and she pulled away to look at him as she slightly switched tactics, "Would you like them?"

The question, and the slightly innocent way that she asked it, made an unexpected wave of heat blow through his veins. He swallowed and then glanced down at the heels she still wore before replying, "I'd imagine you in nothing but them every time I'd close my eyes."

She whimpered. "Oh God, you're good at this."

"Keep going," he urged her, unsure of how much more he could take of this before he _had_ to have her.

"Okay," she nodded. "So... I try, I really do, but I've missed a lot when I should have been paying attention to _what_ you were saying instead of _how_ you were saying it. It's the worst that I've done in a class, ever, and you look seriously pissed one day when you tell me to come and see you in your office after class."

He hummed, his hand running down her leg as she lifted it up over his, both of them clearly needing more but holding off against their will. She took an unsteady breath. "So I walk in, in a dress a little more appropriate than the one I'm wearing now, but same shoes, and it's towards the end of the day, so you look kinda like you do now, with the top of your shirt unbuttoned and bow tie undone - which kinda makes me die inside - and you don't even look up at me when you tell me to lock the door. My heart stops when you say it, but I still convince myself that it must be for some... other... reason that you want it locked."

This alternate student version of her was quite naive, he chuckled to himself.

"I sit down and you get up, still looking pissed, and you come around the desk and kind of half-sit on it. You ask me why I'm still doing so bad. You've given me extra time, chances for extra credit, given me breaks that you don't normally give _anyone_, and yet I'm still not getting it. My face gives me away, because I blush like a complete idiot, but I still blame my focus and just about anything I can think of. You don't believe me."

"What do I do about it?" he asked, back to dragging his lips along her neck, feeling the fluttering pulse at the base of it quicken the more that she spoke.

"You... quiz me."

He looked at her, getting the feeling that she was getting to _it_ now. She was blushing just as much as the fictional version of herself currently was.

"You tell me to stand, so I do. You pace around the room, saying random things in Russian that I have to translate. Things like... I don't know... 'good morning'..."

"Доброе утречко," he said flawlessly, and he felt her instant shudder at the common greeting.

"'It's raining'," she added, clearly trying to think of the most mundane things possible to say.

"Дождь идет," he replied, and she smiled, closing her eyes briefly as the words rolled off his tongue.

"I can translate most of the words, so I start to feel a little better. But then you stop pacing and all of a sudden you're right behind me, and I feel you before I hear you, even though you're not touching me. And..." she took a moment, and he could almost _see_ her next words forming in her mind, "You ask me in Russian, almost too quiet for me to understand, 'What do you think about when you look at me'."

His tone as he spoke those words in Russian was every bit as quiet and strained as she was describing. "Что вы думаете о том, когда ты смотришь на меня?"

He then watched her shudder again, and with her eyes closed, she said, "I... I freeze, because I know I'm caught and I know you know, and I can't breathe, I can't talk, can't think. And then you... you reach out and touch my hair, pull a piece of it behind my shoulder, and just that one little touch makes me..."

Her eyes were still closed, and he watched her in pure fascination, realizing by the slight furrow in her brow and the way that her lips were parted how deeply into the scene she was. And then he had an idea.

"Makes you... what?" he asked lowly, taking her hands and leading her off of the desk. The motion made her eyes open, and she looked at him questioningly before he pulled her dress slightly back up over her body and then turned so that he was behind her. Her eyes followed him until he saw them light up with understanding, and he suppressed a grin as she turned her face back forward and he stepped fully "into character". After all, he had promised her earlier that when the mission was over, they'd do _anything_ she wanted to. And this was turning out better than he had imagined already.

"Just that touch..." his fingers mimicked what she had said, brushing it back behind her shoulder, "just that alone makes me stop breathing and makes my heart just about explode in my chest, because I know what it means and for once I can't convince myself that I'm just making something out of nothing. But... but you're still waiting for an answer, so you lean in close and hiss in Russian, 'answer me'."

"Ответьте мне," he hissed, just shy of her ear, since she hadn't specified that he had touched her as he said this.

She moaned, quietly in her throat. "I... I try, but nothing comes out, and I can feel you just barely come closer... you move my hair all the way over my shoulder," she said, eyes still closed, and he did as she said, "and then you kiss the back of my neck... so soft I can barely feel it but I know it's your lips and it's one of the best things I've ever felt."

He kissed her exactly how she described, and when she moaned the way that the student version of her would have at the simple touch, he did too.

They had barely gotten started and he was already on the edge of the kind of desperation that she had been talking about earlier.

"Then you turn me around," she said, and he did. Her eyes were heated and more than a little dazed as they met his, and it took everything in him not to grab her and completely ruin the rest of the story. Then she surprised him and asked, "What would you do next?"

He blinked a few times, this question decidedly more complex than her last. It was easy to just listen and follow her thoughts through her words, but now he stopped and wondered... if this was real, and she was completely off limits, the very definition of unethical behavior, and yet weeks and weeks of tension and suppressed desires had made all of that seem as irrelevant as it was... and now he had her here, in front of him, with no more false pretenses between them... what would he do?

The answer was obvious. He would give her a choice.

He stepped forward, eliminating the last bit of distance between them, and then he dropped his forehead against hers. "If you don't want this, then leave and I'll never touch you again. But if you do want this... and I know you do... just say the word, Summer."

His hand was in her hair now, and hers was on his wrist, the air hot between them, and she asked with a slight smile on her face, "What's the word?"

"Да," he said, and he thought that she was lucky that the word was so easy to pronounce, sounding like _da_ and meaning _yes_.

And then she repeated the word, softly and with her smile still on her face, and he let a part of his self control snap as he buried his fingers in her hair and brought his lips crashing down on hers. They both moaned at the searing, desperate contact, and then they couldn't get close enough. Her words had left him lost, adrift in a pulsing need that he couldn't fully even comprehend anymore, torn between fantasy and reality and quite enjoying having both at the same time.

He just needed _more_. So much more that he wouldn't be able to breathe until he got it.

As they kissed and clawed each other into oblivion, he managed to break away long enough to whisper roughly, "What next?"

She blinked, seemingly as lost as he was before her eyes refocused a bit and she replied, "You... uh... you'd pick me up and put me on your desk and -"

That was enough for him, he decided as he followed her lead and tossed her on the desk with far more determination than he had earlier. Now that she was back on track, she kept up the story once more, in between kisses to her lips that were almost sloppy in how needy they were. "You take my dress off, but you leave my heels on," she said, and he had her dress off so fast it could have caught fire. She smiled widely at him and then drew him back for another stifling kiss as she started frantically undoing the buttons of his shirt.

It was a storm of lips, teeth, and hands, fitting for a desperate and scorching first time, and in a way, it was. One thing that Bucky had noticed as of late was that _this_, the physical side of things, never seemed to get the least bit boring or predictable. The minute he would think that he knew what to expect, she would write him a story or, like tonight, tell him one, and something would result that he hadn't seen coming but welcomed with open arms.

He'd tell her later how absolutely perfect of a lover he thought she was. Right then, he needed to know what to do next, and thankfully, she provided the answer.

"Tell me what you thought," she said before correcting herself, "what you _would have _thought during all those classes, since you know what I thought but I don't know what you thought."

In response, he pushed her down flat on the desk, her legs staying firm around his hips as his hands ran slowly down her bare upper half, thinking carefully about his answer before he dared to speak. Finally, he leaned down and began kissing down her chest, looking up at her periodically as he replied, "That you're beautiful." His hands squeezed her breasts as his mouth moved lower. "Sexy. Smart, though you weren't acting it." He nipped near her side and she giggled, the sound becoming a moan as he then continued creeping lower. "The first time I knew the heels were for me, I'd have to leave the class for awhile. Go to my office. Imagine you waiting there on my desk in nothing but the heels. Imagine how you'd feel, how you'd taste, how you would moan and shake when I'd find out."

"_Oh my God_," he heard her whine, and he knew it wasn't just because of the kisses he was spreading down her stomach. He knew how close he could push her to the edge just through his words. He didn't take it for granted. It came naturally now, unlike when they had first started to become intimate. He had always enjoyed teasing her, but this... this had taken time. And he wouldn't change it.

As tempting as it was to slip down a few more inches and _feast_, he moved back up her body and kissed her lips before looking down at her perpetually-flushed face and saying, "And now that I'd finally have you... it would kill me but I'd take my time. You know where I'd start."

She bit her lip and smiled, indeed knowing where his mouth would go next, but then she said with a false tone of innocence, "I'm just your student. I don't know anything about you yet, aside from your high heel fetish." He narrowed his eyes slightly at her, taking those words as a sign that she was taking this fantasy all the way to the end. He was all right with that. Then she shorted out his brain by reaching up and placing her hands on his chest as she said in the same falsely innocent tone, "I need you to teach me. _Sir_."

He couldn't answer. He could do nothing but let his lips part further as he stared down at her, those words nearly his undoing, sending him into a kind of state that he never would have guessed something as simple as a suit and Steve's pair of fake glasses would have been responsible for.

Really, it all just came down to something that he only grew more convinced of with each passing day; while his past told a story of the world's most unlucky soldier, his future might just be that of the luckiest.

* * *

Meanwhile, out in the living room, most of the Avengers were going over the results of that day's mission.

"So what do we know about this guy aside from -"

_Crash_. _Bang. Very loud moan. _

Losing his train of thought, Tony rolled his eyes and stood up from the couch he had been on, telling his fellow Avengers, "Come on. Downstairs. I can't hear myself think over all the sounds of Winter in Summer happening down the hall."

Natasha glanced at Steve, who just looked resigned to having to listen to said very loud sounds for the rest of his life and had actually been tuning it out until Tony had mentioned it. Regardless, they got up to follow Tony, and Sam glanced at Darcy sitting next to him and shrugged just before getting up to go himself.

"Hey," Darcy said, stopping him. She grinned as she said, "Please tell me you've got a pair of glasses laying around too."

He grinned back and then got up, calling out, "Hey, Steve. Got any other pairs of -"

"No," Steve replied without bothering to look behind him. "But maybe Bucky will lend you his."

"I don't know if I'd want to borrow them after... whatever it is that they're doing in there," Sam said, face slightly pinched.

"You can just wear mine!" Darcy called out as they all piled into the elevator.

After the doors closed, Tony remarked, "Somebody should call Bruce. Apparently his look is now highly in demand with the ladies."

Nat chuckled, and then all was silent for a good two minutes. Then Steve froze briefly with a look of dawning realization, then sighed and said, "_Winter in Summer._ I _just_ got that."

"Wow, Cap," Tony laughed along with the others, "your age is really showing right now. But it's okay, we all get slower the closer we get to 100."

Perhaps sick of the jokes at his expense, or maybe just ready to prove that he could make some of his own, Steve just shrugged and then nonchalantly replied, "Depends on what you're talking about. I might be 95 but my tongue doesn't seem to be getting any slower, right Nat?"

Tony choked so hard on a drink of water he'd been taking from a bottle in his hand that he couldn't breathe right for ten minutes. Natasha looked at Steve like she had just fallen in love right at that exact moment, and Sam just wished that he had gotten the moment on video.

Bucky would later be slightly miffed that he had missed this apparently instantly legendary moment known as "Steve's first legitimately dirty joke in front of someone other than Bucky", but, all things considered... he was quite happy with where he was that night.

**A/N: My apologies for this slightly late update, but on the bright side, this is one of my favorite chapters so far and I am quite excited to post it :D This one took a little longer than usual to fully edit, and I owe a lot of thanks to midnightwings96 for having helped turned a half-coherent idea of mine into something actually writeable (she does that a lot :D) AND, on top of that, helping to co-write Natasha's dance and give that scene a level of detail that I couldn't have. Action and dancing are my writing weak points, and she has helped me with both many times, so I am highly grateful and happy to have her help filling in those blanks :) Also, my thanks to you wonderful readers &amp; reviewers - last chapter got the highest reviews of any so far aside from chapter four, so you all have my deep gratitude for sticking with this monster story and sticking with me :D I will see you all next week! (P.S. - if any of you speak Russian out there, feel free to correct the Google translate Russian that I had to use here! I'm sure it's all wrong lol)**


	26. Chapter 26

Morning and its warm trickling sunlight was calling her, tugging her from the arms of sleep, but she ignored it as best she could and snuggled deeper into the sheets. Laying on her front with both hands up near her face, she had just about drifted back into blessed sleep when gentle shifting beside her and what felt suspiciously like a kiss to her shoulder kept her hovering between sleep and wakefulness.

Still, she kept her eyes shut, following the heaviness behind them back into dreamland, knowing she had today off and could sleep as late as David allowed her to, and that was usually pretty late these days.

She felt the sheet that was pulled up to her neck being slowly pulled down to her hips, but the room was warm and the slight coolness that hit her bare back didn't bother her. Nothing was going to stop her from the last bit of sleep that she was chasing.

Nothing except for a nearly ice-cold metal finger trailing down from the back of her neck to the bottom of her spine. She shivered against her will, muscles tightening in her automatic response to the cold touch, but she still kept her eyes closed and pretended that it hadn't jarred her into full wakefulness.

Even if that touch hadn't done it, the soft, warm kisses that heated her skin back up as they trailed lazily and sweetly from the base of her spine all the way up to the space between her shoulder blades certainly did. Bucky's lips lingered there as he drew all of her hair away from her face, and she heard him chuckle when he saw the smile on her face that she had been trying to hide. He kissed her cheek gently and said, "How long have you been awake?"

"... Since you kissed my shoulder," she admitted, cracking her eye open to look up at him as he leaned over her. "But that doesn't mean you have to stop."

"Wasn't planning on it," he replied, kissing the back of her neck. "Actually, I was kinda wanting to wake you up a different way, but it would have been hard with how you're laying..."

"Aw, man," she groaned for having missed out on that, turning over on her back as he laid on his side next to her. "Tomorrow, maybe?"

He smirked and snaked his arm around her as he nodded, pulling her in so that she was laying against him with her back to his chest. She closed her eyes as he buried his nose in her mess of hair, kissing her head, and she muttered tiredly, "I need to go check if David's still sleeping."

"He is," Bucky replied, again moving her hair out of the way so that he could kiss under her ear. "I checked right before you woke up."

"Really?" she asked, opening her eyes and smiling in slight surprise. "But... you're naked."

"I wasn't when I checked."

Her smile widened and she craned her neck to look back at him. "So you threw some clothes on, walked like ten steps down the hall, then came back and got naked again to wake me up all sexy?" She didn't know why, but she wanted to giggle at the images that gave her.

He considered those words for a minute and then replied. "More or less."

Then she did giggle, and he pressed his lips to hers with a slight grin on his face.

Ah, how she loved the quiet, lazy mornings here in this bed with him. They could waste the whole morning and it would feel like no more than an hour had gone by, and it seemed like there was something extra special about this particular morning.

Maybe that was because mornings following super secret, dangerous missions at burlesque clubs and unexpected, very long, utterly ridiculous professor/student roleplaying sex were just extra awesome.

It sounded almost stupid when put into those words, but aside from the briefly terrifying moments of the mission at the club, the day was going on her list of all-time favorites. Hands down. She had gotten to dress up and be blonde for the first time in her life, see Bucky in action and taking down a roomful of men without breaking a sweat, beat up a guy who had thrown a bomb at her with a riding crop of all things, and then got to come home and spiral into the world's most pleasant shock over how enthusiastic Bucky ended up being about her spontaneous storytelling. If someone had asked her before that if she had ever considered doing the "roleplay" thing with him, she probably would have found it weird and not seriously considered it, but the _way_ that he made it happen and encouraged her to take it as far as they had... she was still pure mush.

And now it was all quiet breaths and soft kisses and touches as they lounged under the sheets, the opposite of what it had been last night. Her back was still to his chest and her hand was stretched up behind her so that her fingers could tangle in his hair as he kissed her slowly, like he had all the time in the world to just feel her and slowly drive her insane. His right arm under the pillow beneath her head, his left hand left its place on her hip to move up her side, then over her breast where it cupped and squeezed gently, and it was almost like having a rather large ice cube dragged over her skin, especially in contrast to the warmth of the room and the bed. She couldn't hide how much she liked it, though, shivering pleasantly as the hand moved down to her stomach and leisurely slid across her skin.

As much as she loved him teasing her into oblivion, she wasn't sure that she could take an hour or more of it this morning, not when images and sounds from the night before were so fresh in her head. Things like the way he had sounded when growled things in Russian to her that she didn't have to understand to know that they were filthy, the way that he had completely embraced his "role" and became slightly more domineering than usual as a result, and the way that he had moaned shamelessly loudly when she had pushed him into the small chair behind his desk and proceeded to spend so long on her knees that she was fairly sure there would be bruises today - because that last one was just a requirement for any decent professor fantasy. That was just the rules.

One Russian word that he had taught her during the course of the night floated to her mind as he kissed her neck, metal hand continuing its teasing path and currently sliding down her leg. She gave his hair a slight tug with her fingers and he lifted his head, letting her pull him down to kiss his lips before murmuring against them, "_Uchitel_."

It didn't matter that she was very likely butchering the word meaning _teacher_ with her very American pronunciation of it, because his reaction was instant, first in a slight growl that she felt rumble through his chest into her back, and then he was looking down at her and smiling in a way that made her heart soar.

That was the other thing she loved about mornings like these. The sweet, contented way that he smiled at her as they whiled away the morning told her that there was nowhere else he would rather be, nowhere he would rather wake up than next to wherever she was.

To have found someone who looked at her and smiled at her the way that he did, and who was even willing to pretend to be her professor for a night and end up getting into it possibly even slightly more than she had - it made her fairly sure that she was the luckiest human being alive.

That thought was confirmed when he kissed her more deeply than he had so far that morning, then slowly dragged his hand up and down the inside of her thigh before it started vibrating softly. She jumped in surprise but recovered quickly, smiling into their kiss and then gasping into his mouth when his hand moved higher.

Oh yeah, she decided. She was the very definition of lucky.

The morning passed by in the most pleasant of hazes, and the only problem was that by the time he let her catch her breath, she was worn out all over again and ready to fall back asleep. He then dragged her out of bed and into the shower, claiming that it would wake her up, and in a way, it did. The contrast of a cold arm holding her up against cold tiles underneath the steady stream of hot water with an equally warm body pressed to hers was definitely just as _stimulating_ as a cup of coffee would have been.

Though her legs had long since turned to noodles and her head was floating up somewhere near Mars, she did manage to keep it together enough to walk out of the shower without falling on her face the way she sort of wanted to. Bucky had gotten out first, and as he stood there with a towel around his hips and hers in his hand, she shivered against the cold air and held out her hand impatiently.

"Hand it to me," she said, wiping some water out of her eyes that had dripped from her hair. "Kind of freezing here."

He held it out to her, but as soon as her fingers brushed it, he yanked it back with an amused grin.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "I'm dripping everywhere!"

He raised his eyebrows and then looked her from top to bottom, smirk seemingly painted on his face today. "I've noticed."

She wiggled her fingers impatiently. "Give it!"

He finally handed her the thing, still grinning after she snatched it and wrapped it around herself, tucking it under her arms and going to the sink. As she cleared the foggy mirror with her hand, Bucky said from behind her, "I did that to test a theory."

She reached for her hairbrush on the sink as he came closer and then leaned back against the counter. She looked up at him and asked, "What? That I have a hidden superpower of self-drying after showers?"

He chuckled through his nose. "No. But I've noticed something for a long time." When she gave him a look that told him to continue, he said, "When you're naked - unless we're in bed - you kind of slump your shoulders."

She furrowed her brows, pausing as she brushed though her hair. "... Well, I _am_ lugging around two giant weights on my chest, so my posture sucks sometimes."

He grinned slightly but shook his head. "That's not what I mean. And even when we're in bed, most of the time you try to keep a sheet on you."

She looked at him blankly. "... Well, yeah."

"What I'm getting at is, I can tell when you do that with your shoulders and try to cover yourself up that it bothers you."

"What bothers me?"

"... Your body," he replied.

She looked from him to the mirror and found herself at a loss for what to say. Sure, she wasn't as comfortable prancing around naked as he was, but she was a different story than he was, and anyway, she didn't see how it really mattered, since it wasn't an issue when they were intimate or really an issue at all, as far as she could tell.

Just as she opened her mouth to say so, she felt a gentle tug and then her towel was gone, back in Bucky's hands, and she immediately turned to him with a half-squeaked "Hey!"

"See?" was all he said, gesturing to her shoulders. She looked down and realized what he had been talking about, and he was right - her previously straight shoulders were now slightly hunched, and she looked like she was curling slightly in on herself to try to compensate for her lack of clothing. In short, she looked wholly uncomfortable at the moment, and she had no clear reason as to why.

Point proven, he handed the towel back to her, but she didn't slide it back around herself. "Oh."

But he wasn't silent for long. His expression growing more serious, he turned towards her and then stepped behind her, taking her upper arms in his hands and saying, "Look in the mirror."

She wanted to cringe. Whatever he was doing, she was 99% sure that she didn't want him to.

The mirror was fairly large and from where they stood, she could see down to her knees in her reflection. She tried to look at anything else until his hands moved to her shoulders and gently rolled them back, fixing her posture. "_This_ is how you should look. Whether you're naked or not."

She sighed. "Okay, okay, I get it."

"No you don't," he said, right hand moving underneath her chin and tipping it so that she was forced to hold her head high. "Summer, _look_ at yourself."

She made a face but she did as he said anyway, and she could feel her face getting hot at the discomfort of it all. It took all of her self control to not stamp her foot like a kid. "Bucky..."

"How is it," he asked, "that you can wear those little dresses that barely cover you and you can surprise me on my birthday waiting naked in my bed but _this_ makes you this uncomfortable?"

"... Because those things don't involve standing here staring at myself with my hair plastered down on my head and no makeup on and seeing everything I don't like about myself," she blurted. "If you want me to go down the list, I will."

"I want you to see what I see," he said. "And I want you to feel good about yourself."

"Compared to how I used to be, I feel pretty good," she shrugged, still trying not to cringe at how he was still holding her shoulders back. "A year ago I never would have worn what I wear now. I never even wore high heels and I would use the same tube of mascara for like two years. And I was lucky if I brushed my hair once every like three days."

"I know," he replied. "And I don't want you to change. Don't take what I'm saying the wrong way."

"Honestly, I don't know how you want me to take it," she said. Maybe this was just an overly long way of telling her she just really needed to work on her posture?

"I want you to _really_ see yourself."

She gave herself a once-over in the mirror and squinted one eye as she said, "Moderately tall female with giant knockers and too-skinny legs, plus a few stretch marks on my hips in case I ever forget I pushed a human being out of me? Oh, and a weird nose."

He furrowed his brows. "How is your nose weird?"

"Mark used to tease me about my witch nose." She got the feeling she shouldn't have said that particular name, because Bucky's gaze on her in the mirror darkened considerably. "I mean he's an idiot, obviously, but... it _is_ kind of pointy."

Bucky stayed silent for a moment, drawing a steadying breath, and she suspected that his thoughts were somewhere along the lines of regretting that he hadn't killed her old boyfriend when he had the chance. In the end, he opted to ignore her comment and said, "You know how perfect I think you are. I've been telling you for a long time now. But I know you've never believed me."

"Nobody's perfect," she shrugged.

"You're pretty damn close."

She smiled and shook her head, then rolled her eyes as she turned her head and looked up at him. "You're ridiculous."

His fingers turned her chin back to the mirror and he said in an utterly serious, very convincing manner, "You are beautiful. You're strong. You're the kind of woman who would rather whip a man's face with a riding crop instead of going for a knife strapped to your leg."

She snorted, smiling a little. "What kind is that?"

He brushed his lips against her hair and replied, "The kind I'd kill for."

She was pretty sure she wasn't supposed to find that as arousing as she did. Clearly, she had been around superheroes and assassins for too long.

"You're selfless," he said. "Almost too selfless. Brave. Smart. Powerful."

She almost choked. "_Powerful_?" This coming from a man who could snap a tree in half if he wanted to, while she was lucky if she could get pickle jars open?

"I'm wrapped around your finger, Summer," he said softly, eyes locked on hers in the mirror. "I'd be a puppet on your string if you asked me to be."

Jaw dropping slightly at all of this, she replied, "I'd never do that."

"I know. And that's why I love you."

There was a lump in her throat that she couldn't swallow down, and this had not gone as expected... at all. She had no idea what to say, so she kept her mouth shut, eyes closing briefly when he placed a gentle kiss on her head.

"Do you believe me?"

"That you love me?" she asked.

"Everything I said," he replied.

"... I believe that _you_ believe it. But you're also kind of biased, being in love with me and all." He sighed in response, leaning his head back in an exasperated kind of way, and she smiled before adding, "Look, keep in mind that I've spent my whole life never feeling good enough for anything and just... not being used to hearing these kinds of things, especially from guys. Except my brother. So it's gonna take me awhile to really feel what you're saying myself."

He nodded understandingly, considering her words for a moment before his hands, now on her sides, slid down to her hips. "I understand. But I'm gonna keep telling you these things until you believe me."

"Hey, have at it," she smiled. "I don't mind it at all."

He smiled back slightly and then kissed her under her ear, and she watched him in the mirror as his fingers tightened slightly and he said against her neck, "I don't want to see you slouching and trying to hide yourself anymore."

"Well... old habits die hard," she shrugged.

"... Maybe I just need to find a mirror and put it in my room so you can watch yourself ride me and see for yourself how amazing you are."

Her face flared up immediately, just the mere suggestion of what he said making her want to gape and be scandalized and extremely turned on all at the same time. He glanced up to catch her dumbfounded expression in the mirror and grinned that way that he did whenever he got that reaction out of her, and then he bent down to turn her head and kiss her. She barely noticed when one of his hands left her hips, grabbed her towel and then wrapped it back around her body. Once it was secure, he ended the kiss, pulled away and looked in her eyes for a moment before looking down at her nose, placing a soft little kiss on the tip of it, and then telling her, "And you don't have a witch nose."

She chuckled, and he pulled away with a smile. When she turned back to the mirror, relieved to be covered up again, her own smile lingered and she was grateful for his gentle way of pushing her slightly out of her comfort zone but then letting her crawl back into it after he had made his point. In a way, it was what she had always done with him when she tried to help him - little pushes and a lot of reassurances, but never trying to make him move at any pace other than his own.

She silently contemplated his words as they fell into a charmingly domestic routine, she brushing out her wet hair the rest of the way while he brushed his teeth next to her and then started combing through his own hair. She caught his eyes in the mirror and smiled, her brain starting to drift off into thoughts of what a life at a place of their own would be like. She still thought it just as much as she had at the farm, and she was still just as silent about the idea.

Once she was done and about to leave the bathroom, she turned and glanced at him as he continued to fiddle with his hair, looking pointedly at the towel still around his hips, "You know, next time you want me to stare at myself naked in the mirror for like ten minutes, you could at least be fair about it and be naked too."

She laughed when he then turned and glanced at her before grabbing the towel off of himself and tossing it at her.

Now that a considerable chunk of the morning was gone, she focused on grabbing some of the clothes she kept stashed in his dresser and then, once she was finally clothed, gathered up her things from the night before. Her dress was on the floor near his desk, though thankfully still in one piece, but her shoes were slightly harder to find. Bucky, now half dressed, ended up finding them for her, untangling a sheet at the foot of the bed and pulling them out from within it.

"You were still wearing them when you fell asleep," he said, handing them to her with a grin.

"The things I do for you," she sighed playfully, giving him a peck on the cheek. "I'm sure David's up by now so I'd better go."

He nodded, letting her go, but she wasn't halfway to the door when she heard him call, "Summer?"

She turned, smiling slightly. "Yeah?"

"Do you want to go out later?"

"Out? Out where?"

He shrugged. "Somewhere."

She smiled and asked, "Are you very vaguely asking me out on our third date, Bucky?"

His own grin briefly shrunk and confusion took over as he asked, "Only our third?"

She nodded. "Dinner and dancing was the first, second was Coney Island. Unless you count Tony's party, but I kinda feel like you need to leave the building you live and work in for it to really be a date. So this would be our third."

He raised his eyebrows and then dropped them. "Then we definitely need to go out."

She smiled and nodded happily. "Okay. Let me figure out who would watch David and then we can talk about where to go."

He smiled and nodded back, and she all but bounced out of his room and down to hers. She had a feeling that a particularly good day was ahead of her.

* * *

"I still can't get over yesterday."

Bucky smiled slightly at Summer at the table, chewing on a mouthful of the breakfast she'd made, like the rest of the table. Steve looked particularly peppy today, and Natasha gave Summer a look over her cup of coffee and said, "The part where you turned a riding crop into a weapon or the part where you got to see your first night of real action?"

"...Both," Summer replied. David chomped on cereal obliviously beside her and was happily banging on his tablet, playing on a piano app, as she continued, "And _your dance_. How do you _do_ that?"

Natasha grinned at the admiring way that Summer asked the question and replied, "I've basically danced my whole life. It's second nature."

"Well," Summer said with wide eyes, "you're just... amazing, seriously. And _it_ was amazing."

Bucky glanced at Steve, who was quietly eating, and when the other man glanced up, Bucky grinned at him in a way that made Steve grin back with a faint blush. He hadn't had a chance yet to ask Steve exactly how much he had died inside when Natasha literally stripped away her costume that was intentionally made with his colors. He was pretty sure it was at least a contributing factor to how good of a mood he was in today.

"It was fun," Natasha nodded, also glancing at Steve and smiling a little at his expression.

"That's one of the things I liked so much about it," Summer said. "You really looked like you were having fun. I mean, I could never do it, but now I see why some women do."

"Hey, you don't know that until you try," Natasha replied lightly. "If you wanted, I could teach you."

Bucky choked on the coffee he was drinking and then started coughing. He looked up then to find Summer and Natasha both grinning at his reaction, and when he turned to Steve, he found only upturned eyebrows and pure amusement at his expense.

He couldn't even imagine what he had just heard. Usually, he pictured everything he heard the minute it reached his ears, for better or worse. This time, just attempting to imagine it left the equivalent of a nuclear bomb shorting out his very ability to imagine _anything_.

"Yeah... no," Summer eventually replied. "I mean, have you _seen_ me dance?"

Before Natasha could reply, Bucky snapped out his temporary daze and narrowed his eyes. "You're decent now. I know. I've taught you."

She then fumbled for words for a moment before her faint blush rose a little and she shook her head, "That's... totally different. What you've taught me and _burlesque_ is like... night and day."

"Maybe not as much as you might think," Natasha winked, glancing briefly at Bucky. "You'll never know unless you try."

Summer glanced at Bucky, whose jaw was currently rather tight, and she smiled nervously before shaking her head again. "I... no. Nope. I know my limits."

"Fair enough," Natasha shrugged. "But the offer stands."

Bucky stared at his coffee cup, still trying to imagine just the suggestion of what he was hearing and still coming up short. Maybe it was for the best - despite the rather tiring morning he'd already had, he would likely end up sitting at the table much longer than was necessary to un-excite himself if he had been successful.

But he had a feeling that his thoughts were written on his face, judging by the way that Summer smiled at him in her still-slightly-shy kind of way and then looked down at her plate.

Well, a man could dream.

"Speaking of dancing," Natasha sighed, leaning back in her seat, "that really _was_ fun. Kind of got me in the dancing mood." She brushed Steve's shoulder then and smiled, "You ought to take me dancing."

Steve raised his eyebrows and then said, "I can do that. Don't we have work to do today, though?"

She shrugged. "Some, but the computers do most of this part of the work for us." She then smiled and said, "You should know this by now."

Steve just smiled and shrugged back, and then Summer chirped, "We were gonna go out later, too. We should all go! Like a double date!"

"Oh boy," Natasha chuckled. "I've _heard_ about the double dates these boys used to do back in their day."

"Let's not even go there," Steve said in a slightly pained way. "But I think it's a great idea. How about you, Bucky?"

Bucky shrugged with a small smile. "Why not?"

Summer then clapped with glee, and as usual, it was hard to not catch some of her enthusiasm. Then she started babbling to Natasha about what to wear, and as the girls had their talk, Steve leaned slightly across the table and said, "I don't know what surprises me more - that we're actually doing the double date thing again, seventy years later, or that these two get along this well now."

Bucky glanced their way and then replied, "What do you think they talk about when we're not here?"

Bucky imagined clandestine talks over drinks where they plotted how to further ensnare the men that were already wrapped around their fingers, Natasha probably filling Summer's head with the sorts of ideas that made Bucky forget how to breathe. Then again, he knew her mind was diabolical enough all on its own. And that was what made her having Natasha for a close friend all the more dangerous.

"... Probably about the same as what we talk about," Steve shrugged.

"High heels, lipstick, measurements," Bucky rattled off while Steve chuckled and nodded. Steve liked heels but not to the same degree as Bucky, just as Bucky liked lipstick but not quite like Steve did, or more specifically, red lipstick, as well as the color red in general. As far as measurements went, they had long established that Summer won in terms of bra size. Steve had tried to actually challenge that initially, only to be proven wrong in the time it took both men to go to their rooms and check the tags on bras that had been left behind, as if they were teenagers and not very serious soldiers in their late nineties.

"You know what's great?" Steve mused. "All this time and David still looks at Nat like she's gonna turn into the wicked witch any minute."

"Maybe he knows something we don't," Bucky teased. "He's a pretty smart kid."

"Yeah, he is," Steve agreed.

"So, that outfit," Bucky said casually, giving Steve a look. "Recovered yet?"

"Nope," Steve freely admitted.

"How far did she... take it?" Bucky asked in mild curiosity, since he and Summer had gone up to the VIP room in the middle of Nat's dance.

"Well... she finished it... later," Steve replied, unable to wipe the stupid smile from his face.

"Very patriotic of her," Bucky said dryly, and Steve couldn't help but laugh.

"Okay!" Bucky suddenly heard Summer say as she got up from the table and grabbed her plate. "So we'll leave around four, then?"

Natasha nodded, getting up as well. "Sounds good to me."

Steve looked around in slight confusion. "What did they say? Where are we going?"

"Guess we'll find out later," Bucky shrugged, finishing his coffee. It didn't matter to him where they went, and since Summer had yet to do anything that he genuinely disliked in this area, he fully trusted their date to her.

For all the uncertainty and fear that followed him around like shadows that he could never fully shake, that day, he felt distinctly at peace. Not an all-encompassing peace, but one that allowed him to turn off the voices in his head and get used to having days like these, with the girl he loved and friends who cared about him, and it felt good.

The smile that crossed his face when Summer walked by his chair and bent down to happily kiss his cheek before heading back to her room was as instant and genuine as all the others she pulled out of him. Smiling came a lot more easy now than it used to, and the only person Bucky thought might be more happy about it was Steve, who was still sitting across from him and looking incredibly relieved and happy that so much had gone right for him. He was far from the never-smiling, rarely-speaking, HYDRA-obsessed thing he had once been.

HYDRA would always be there, in his mind, to certain extents, and he would never fully rest until he was satisfied that they were no longer a threat. But where they were the whole of his existence before, even after escaping them, now they were an ever-shrinking facet to a much larger life that really did feel like a real _life_ the more he lived it.

And maybe, he thought, _maybe_ that was the real way to defeat them.

A little boy clambering into the seat next to him nudged him out of his thoughts, and he looked down to find David handing him his tablet. Bucky took it, looking at it and finding it on a level of one of David's app games. Sometimes David would do this when he needed help with a level, so Bucky didn't need to ask what he was supposed to do. As he started playing, he felt David's head come to rest lightly on his arm as he watched him play. As much as David had warmed up to him and was indeed often all but attached to him these days, little things like these brought a sense of warmth within that still caught Bucky by surprise.

And warmth was something a man of his history would never, ever take for granted.

* * *

To Summer's excitement, Bucky let her dress him for the day - to a point. When she had scoured his closet and automatically went for the leather pants he had worn on their second date, holding them up for him to see with a giant smile on her face, his responding slight cringe made her pout, but she put the pants back anyway. As a compromise, she got him to wear the leather jacket she hadn't seen in awhile and paired it with black jeans and a white button-down shirt.

"I bet it's nice not having to worry about covering up your arm anymore when you go out," she said as he pulled the jacket on, sitting down on the edge of his bed as he finished getting ready.

"It is," Bucky said, turning and running a hand through his hair. "But I got so used to the metal that now it's weird looking down and seeing it look normal with just the push of a button."

To illustrate his point, he shifted his arm and the image of it blurred and then settled into a mirror image of his flesh arm. Summer nodded, looking at his hand and saying, "Yeah... I like it better the way it is. Always have."

"I know," he grinned at her slightly, turning then to find his shoes to put on.

The sound of David's piano app then started wafting in from the hallway, then became louder as he walked in through the open door to Bucky's room. He didn't look up once, instead just walking towards Summer and then plopping down on the floor at her feet, where he continued to tap away at the screen. She leaned forward some and watched as he tapped one or two keys over and over, at different paces and rhythms, like he was really trying to get a feel for what they sounded like.

Then Bucky standing in front of both of them stole her attention, shoving a hat down on his head and asking, "Ready?"

"Yeah, but..." She made a slight face at the sight of the hat and then said, "That really doesn't go with what you're wearing, and - I hate to break it to you - but hats don't really go that far in the way of disguises."

He looked at her blankly. "But..."

"I have a better idea," she said, getting up and off the bed, pulling down the lace-trimmed hem of her dark blue dress as she walked over to his dresser and started rummaging around with the stuff scattered atop it until she found what she was looking for. "Aha! This is slightly better for staying incognito."

She then turned and, with a smile, walked up to him and took off his hat, then gently slid a pair of aviator sunglasses on his face. They were the result of one of his several shopping trips, the ones where he inexplicably came home with bags and bags of clothes that looked like some rather skilled stylist had picked them all out for him, but he had never touched the sunglasses until now.

And she immediately groaned as soon as she stepped back to look at him. "You look like a complete douche."

His eyebrows furrowed. "Douche?"

"In a good way," she replied. "Like the 'sexy and I know it' kind of guy who probably deflowered half the female population of Brooklyn in his day. Not that _that's_ a good thing, exactly, but... you get my point."

He grinned at her remark and then slid the glasses off, placing them in a zippered pocket of his jacket as he replied, "For the record, half the female population of Brooklyn was more than two, even back in the 30s and 40s."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Two?" Then her expression grew curious. "Do you just wake up on certain days and just randomly remember the girls you slept with? Like... 'Oh, that's right, I banged Sandra!' or something?" When he opened his mouth to reply, she said, "Never mind. I don't want to know about Sandra. Was there a Sandra?"

He shook his head, smiling a little at her rambling. "No."

"Good. I guess."

"There was an Shirley," he shrugged.

She held up a hand. "Sweet. Cool. Never mind."

He shifted his eyes upwards, like he was carefully considering something, and he said, "I think she was in her late thirties. Or early forties."

Summer's eyes then widened and she whispered, "Are you telling me you did the 'Desperate Housewives' thing?! How old were you?!"

He shrugged slightly helplessly. "I honestly have no idea."

Summer rolled her eyes. "I thought the MILF thing was a modern invention." When the term went over Bucky's head, she muttered, "Mother I'd like to... y'know, frick."

"Oh," he smiled. Then he shot her a look and said playfully, "So _that's_ what you are."

"Don't even," she said warningly, though she couldn't help but a smile a little as she turned away from him and then headed towards David, who was still sitting on the floor with his tablet. She knelt down in front of him, getting his attention as she said cheerfully, "Ready to spend a couple hours with Darcy and show her how much she sucks at Mario Kart?"

He nodded, but she could tell that he looked a little sad that she was leaving _again_ after yesterday. She felt a little pang of guilt, since her days off usually weren't spent away from him, so she touched his cheek and said, "Hey, it's just a few hours, and then you'll have me for the rest of the night. And then on my next day off, I'll take you somewhere fun. We'll get ice cream and go to the park. Just you and me. How's that sound?"

She got her answer when David pointed to Bucky, his face only brightening up a bit when she bit back a smile and said, "He can come too." Satisfied, David stood up, tucked the tablet under his arm and then headed out to the living room all on his own.

She sighed as Bucky came to stand next to her. "I'm chopped liver now compared to you."

"Sorry."

She looked up at him and smiled. "Don't be. I'm incredibly happy."

She then kissed his cheek, still smiling as she turned and headed for the door with him right behind her.

And when Summer hugged David goodbye out in the living room, in the midst of telling Darcy that she was now one of her favorite people in the world and would make her a cake of her own in return for all of her help lately, she then kissed the boy's forehead and straightened up only to watch David then run up to Bucky for a fleeting but very cute goodbye hug of his own. And the best part of it, she thought, was how Bucky returned the hug with a small but warm smile on his face.

She thought that she really should be used to seeing that now, especially after both of their birthdays, but she just wasn't. She melted all over again at every sign of affection between the two, and just like that, she wanted to throw herself at Bucky and half-jokingly beg him to let her have his children.

Steve and Natasha were already downstairs waiting for them, so when Summer and Bucky got into the elevator, they were alone, and Summer focused all of her energy on keeping the word vomit inside as the doors closed in front of them.

As the elevator moved down, she felt his hand brush aside the hair on her shoulder. "I like this dress."

She liked it too. It fit like a glove and let her feel sexy without having everything on display, since its neckline cut just under her collarbone, and its half-sleeves were nice for semi-chilly days like the current one. Not that she was thinking about any of that.

"Me too." _I want like eight and a half of your babies._

"We must be going dancing if you dressed up like this."

She stared at the changing floor numbers "Maybe." _You'd make such pretty babies. It would be worth the puking and the labor and the general misery of it all. _

_"_So you're gonna let other people see you dance for once?"

"Might as well." _Babies. So many babies. And boobs the size of Australia._

_"_Whatare you thinking about?"

She turned and found him watching her with a mix of curiosity and amusement. She blinked and blurted out the first thing that came to mind that technically wasn't a lie. "Boobs." She cringed. "Mine."

He eyebrows scrunched up as he smiled at the same time. "Really."

"Yup."

"They _are_ distracting," he agreed.

_Not as distracting as picturing you holding a baby_. She sighed at that one, willing her stupid brain to shut up. They weren't ready for that talk yet, and besides, she didn't know how serious even she was about the thoughts currently engulfing her mind. No need to let them slip out and needlessly freak him out.

He leaned in slightly and remarked, "You're even worse than Steve at lying."

She nodded her agreement. Spy material, she was not. "Pretty much."

* * *

Walking the streets with his best friend on one side of him and his girl on the other felt so _normal_ that it was bizarre. His right arm was slung over Summer's shoulders as they walked, and she would lean forward and say things that would make Steve laugh and Natasha comment back, and Bucky was in the middle of it, still just trying to feel completely used to the way the sun felt on his face.

Normal might never be really normal again, but damn if it didn't feel like a huge, cleansing breath of pure oxygen after having escaped a burning building.

They walked alongside oblivious pedestrians, people walking to or from work who only cared about where they were going next and not about who was walking among them. The anonymity was refreshing, but after they turned a corner and passed a couple of teenage girls on their cell phones who looked up and gaped slightly before unsubtly snapping a picture as they passed by, Bucky's paranoia kicked in. Though he kept walking, he turned and stared with suddenly narrowed eyes that were hidden by his sunglasses until Summer tugged on his jacket and said lightly, "Calm down. They thought you were an actor, I heard them."

He looked at her in confusion. "An actor?"

"Yeah. Actually, I can see the resemblance. I'll show you a picture later. But the point is," she smiled, "don't worry about the teenage girls."

He believed her, so he tried to set his paranoia aside for the time being. Then, a moment later, he felt Summer start dragging him by his hand towards some store while Steve and Nat headed across the street towards a different one.

"Come on, there's a sale!" she said happily, and he craned his neck slightly to see the sign above the building.

"Where are we going?"

"Your dream place," she glanced behind her and grinned. "A shoe store!"

He rolled his eyes but grinned as he followed her inside, her hand leaving his once the door closed behind them. His hands went into the pockets of his jacket as a habit, and suddenly he was surrounded by some of the most ridiculously expensive women's shoes he had ever seen. One casual glance around spotted a pair of sky-high heels covered in rhinestones with straps that twisted and twirled all the way up to the knee of a mannequin leg, and the display beneath them said they were on _sale_ for $600.

He was pretty sure that was an outrageous price in _any_ century.

"Like those?" Summer asked cheekily, reappearing at his side as he stared. "I'd starve for a month if I bought them, but I could try them on for you."

Before he could stammer out an answer, there was a friendly voice behind them, and by the third word, he knew who it belonged to and he could not _believe_ that this was happening again.

"Hey, guys, need any help finding what you're looking for?"

He closed his eyes and drew a breath. Clearly, this man really did work _everywhere_.

"Oh, no," Summer answered, turning around to smile at the man. "We're okay here, just looking."

Bucky glanced behind him, deciding to just get it over with, and as soon as Esteban took half a glance at him, he gasped with glee and smiled so widely that Summer looked from him to Bucky in confusion for the split second that it took Esteban to finally form words.

"Oh my God. You know, I'm starting to think you're stalking me there, mister."

Bucky glanced at Summer, who was now smiling and still very confused, and then he replied, "I swear I don't know why this keeps happening."

"What keeps happening?" Summer asked,

"Oh honey," Esteban said, placing a hand on his chest, "I am basically this man's personal stylist."

Her eyes widened as if she finally understood something. "Oh! Really?"

"Yes! In fact, that jacket and those jeans are _all_ me," he bragged before looking at Summer again and gasping again. "Are you the girlfriend?"

She smiled a little goofily. "I am!"

"You're gorgeous!" he exclaimed. "My God, you two, _please_ have kids."

Bucky then watched Summer laugh nervously and reply, "Uh... well..."

"Wait." Esteban's face grew very serious suddenly, and his dark eyes flitted back and forth between them as he asked in a whisper, "Does this mean that Thor is somewhere close by?"

Summer opened her mouth and then closed it, looking at Bucky in slight panic. He merely shook his head and replied, "No."

"Dang it," Esteban sighed, the wind leaving his sails for a moment. Then he noticed the look of alarm on Summer's face, and he explained in a whisper with a wave of his hand, "I know all about everybody. They all walked into my old store together in terrible disguises. Thor's fabulous red coat was me."

"... Oh," she said in surprise before she smiled. "That coat is beautiful."

"Almost as beautiful as Thor himself," he sighed, nodding in agreement.

Then Summer paused and glanced at Bucky before asking, "So the leather pants..."

Esteban perked up and smiled at the mention of those particular pants. "Oh yes. Also me."

Summer sighed and then shoved her purse into Bucky's hands before stepping closer to Esteban and hugging him, because apparently nothing else could properly express her gratitude. "Oh, thank you."

"Mhm," Esteban nodded, patting her back. "This is what Esteban is here for, sweetie. Oh, and the white suit was also my doing."

Summer made an incoherent noise as she continued to hug the man. "The white suit of sex?"

An older lady, probably in her fifties, walked past them on her way to the exit, and after looking at them all in confusion and possibly a hint of disapproval over who knew _what_, Bucky glared at her. He instantly realized that he had slightly overdone the glare, because the woman clutched her purse and paled before bolting out the door.

Oh well.

After Summer's impromptu hug finally ended, she patted Esteban's shoulder and said, "Seriously, you are amazing. I'll make him come buy clothes from you forever. I mean it."

"Absolutely!" he beamed. "I quit one of my jobs over some _creative differences_ so that's why I'm here, but I'm still up on 22nd five days a week. Oh, and Captain America," he whispered, "needs to come in too, because he seriously could use the help." Then he leaned in conspiratorially and asked Summer, "I thought they were a couple the first time I saw them, and when I said so, they both turned so red - if I had known then who they were, I would have taken a picture!"

Summer looked like she was on the verge of utterly exploding with laughter. "Are you _serious_?"

Bucky sighed and sat down on a small bench meant for trying on shoes. Clearly, they were going to be here awhile.

"Oh yes!" he laughed. "But my proudest moment is still Thor's jacket. I do not think I can top that one. My number one used to be when I sold Tom Hiddleston that black sweater he wears almost every day of his life, but -"

Summer gasped so hard that Bucky was fairly sure that some planet somewhere in the galaxy got knocked off its orbit. "You... you... sold Tom Hiddleston... that sweater?"

He nodded. "Yes, when I was working in London."

Summer stared at Esteban slightly dreamily and asked, "What did he smell like?"

Esteban's gaze drifted off wistfully. "Like Earl Grey tea and perfection."

Bucky rolled his eyes and pulled his phone out from his pocket, then snapped a picture of the two people bonding over some guy Bucky really didn't think was attractive enough to warrant all the fuss. He then sent the picture to Steve with one word typed underneath: _Help_.

A few minutes later, Steve replied with,_ I would, but Nat is trying on lingerie in front of me and I think this is the best day of my life._

Bucky groaned and shoved his phone back into his pocket. He always knew Natasha would be to blame for his demise. He'd get her back for this.

* * *

After meeting the most awesome retail associate in all of New York, Summer bounced out of the shoe store without new shoes but with newly gained knowledge on what Tom Hiddleston smelled like and how Bucky managed to dress as well as he did. The day's outing was already paying off, and they hadn't even grabbed dinner yet.

After meeting back up with a suspiciously smug Natasha and generally flushed-looking Steve, the four of them headed towards a casual, low-key pizza place to eat at before moving on. Summer, being the obviously least recognizable of the group, volunteered to order the food and then bring it to the corner booth they had gotten, which was where she found herself sitting between Bucky and a wall as conversation flowed easily between everybody.

She had been on exactly one double date before, and it had been when she was seventeen and two weeks into her ill-fated relationship with Mark. The date was with his best friend and his girlfriend, who was actually one of Mark's ex-girfriends who decided to give him "slut eyes" the whole time, and it had been so awkward that Summer had nearly attempted escape out of a restroom window.

But even that was better than Steve's past experiences, apparently.

"He tried so hard," Steve said, gesturing to Bucky across the booth, "but every girl he tried to set me up with just couldn't get away from me fast enough. It was awful. They'd just sit there and jump at the first guy who'd ask them to dance, just to get away from me."

"Their loss," Natasha said.

"Yeah," Summer agreed. "I bet they all just about crapped their pants when they saw your face all over posters and stuff later. Well, skirts. Crapped their skirts." When Steve laughed at her eloquence, she grinned back and then said, "Besides, they weren't good enough for you to dance with anyway, if they were like that just because you were small."

"Well, thanks," he smiled with a small nod, "and you're right, but I didn't really know that at the time."

She then slightly nudged Bucky's shoulder and said, "I'm sure he told you the same thing."

Bucky glanced at Steve and then Summer as he said, "I might not remember everything, but I do know the last thing he ever did was listen to me."

Steve shrugged in admittance, smile lingering. "Can't really argue that one."

Summer chuckled, and then she felt her phone buzz through her purse. She checked it and saw a new text from Darcy, which turned out to be a picture of David and Sam, both sitting on the edge of the couch with controllers in their hands, expressions utterly serious as they fought to the death on the battlefield of Mario Kart. The text underneath read, "_Which one is six? I can't tell_."

Summer laughed, sent back a text thanking Darcy for the update, and then put her phone away, feeling warm and like her cheeks might split in half if she smiled anymore. But she couldn't help it - she was just that happy.

She finished eating before everyone else, and Bucky kept an arm lightly wrapped around her waist as she kept up conversation and he plucked at the olives that she had pulled off of her pizza and left in a small pile on her plate. She noticed Steve frowning at that, and she made a mental note to ask later what he had against olives.

She got her chance a bit later, after everyone was done and Natasha stepped outside to make a call while Bucky went briefly to the restroom. She leaned on the table and asked Steve, "So, are you anti-olive?"

"What?" he asked with a small half-smile.

"It looked like Bucky eating olives personally offended you," she explained.

"Oh." He shook his head, looking at the table as he said, "Well, he used to hate olives. If something so much as touched an olive, he wouldn't eat it. But that's... obviously changed now."

Summer nodded, now understanding. Steve went on, "There's other things too, little things like how he takes his coffee. A lot of it's the same but a lot isn't, and at first I just..."

Summer nodded, not needing him to elaborate. She only imagine how difficult it was to get your best friend back from the dead only to find a huge amount of that best friend gone and replaced by something else.

"But now it doesn't bother me as much," Steve said. "He's different but... in some ways so am I. Different isn't always bad. And he's still in there. I know that. Besides," he shrugged with a smile, "as long as he's getting better and he's happy... that's really all I want."

She smiled back and said, "Well, I think both of those things are definitely true. And he smiles so much now. Still gets nightmares, but he can deal with them better now. And he trusts himself a lot more than he used to."

Steve nodded. "Yeah, he does. Honestly, I had prepared myself for him to never get to this point and remember as much as he has. I really did. And I owe a lot of his recovery to you."

She almost choked on a sip of her water and shook her head. "I haven't really... done anything. I mean..."

"Yes you have," Steve said quietly.

Before she could continue to protest in futility, Natasha returned to the table and then so did Bucky, signaling that it was time to leave and get on to the real fun of the night. She grabbed her purse and let Bucky help her up from the table, and she returned the small smile that he gave her, Steve's words echoing through her head and helping to bring on a distinct sense of contentedness within. She kissed him very lightly on the lips and then asked, "Ready to take me dancing, soldier?"

His smile grew and his hand slipped into hers. "Always, sweetheart."

And there was that term of endearment again, just as unexpected as the first time she had heard it. She really did melt far too easily when it came to him.

Once they were back out on the street, it was a moderately short walk to the club that Natasha had recommended earlier. The sun was setting but the streets were bright with the lights of the city, and Summer felt sort of like she was in a movie, maybe like a slightly more action packed version of _Sex and the City, _just with more attractive men and less drinking and less cheating.

_Sex and the Avengers_. Maybe it would be the next great bestseller.

Before she could share her new brilliant idea with anyone, they got to the club, and she and Bucky were following Steve and Nat inside. The place ended up being just as classy and inviting as Nat had described, again reminding Summer of the sort of place in a movie that two enemy spies would meet at and have a tension-filled dance in. The lighting was warm and low and there was a stage in front of the main floor, where a jazz band was playing softly and filling the room with music that a decent amount of couples were dancing to. Next to the main space were some booths and a bar, and Summer felt a slight tug on her hand before Bucky asked her quietly, "Want a drink first?"

She looked at him and shook her head. "Nope. Not tonight."

He smiled slightly and nodded, then led her by the hand to the booth that Steve and Nat had already grabbed. Summer only gave him enough time to throw his jacket on the seat before she took his left hand in both of hers and said, "I _really_ want to dance."

"I can tell," he chuckled as she dragged him out to the dance floor, smiling brightly at him when they got there and pulling him close by both of his hands. He smiled softly at her before taking her in his arms and taking advantage of the new song the band had started to play, and thus began her hands-down favorite part of the night.

She loved dancing in his bedroom and in the living room, loved the playfulness and intimacy of being danced across a carpeted floor and being patiently taught how to dance at least somewhat well. But there was nothing quite like this, of standing under the warm lights of the club and watching his blue eyes smile at her underneath him as he twirled her out and pulled her back in. She could _feel_ the music under her skin, and unlike the first time they had wandered into a place like this, she was able to let go and feel the dance instead of think it to death.

And seeing Bucky the way that he was, so much more confident than he had been back then and wearing a disarming smile as he danced her around like the old pro that he was... she wished that she could take a picture of every moment of it so that it could last forever.

She wasn't sure how much time had passed by the time that a slower song had begun to play and he had drawn her in close, left hand splayed on the small of her back while the other held hers. His nose brushed her hair as he said into her ear, "People are watching us."

The light way that he said it assured her that he didn't mean that in a nefarious way, so she smiled and stole a glance around them. Steve and Natasha weren't far away, currently slow-dancing and laughing quietly together, and as for the others, they had indeed gained a few onlookers. "Are we _that_ good?"

He pulled back slightly and grinned as he shrugged. "Maybe." Then she giggled quietly as he slowly spun her one more time, drawing her back in only to dip her low, face inches from hers as she dropped her head back, smile never leaving her face.

"We need to do this more often," she said when he pulled her back up, her free hand curling on his unyieldingly hard left shoulder. "Like once a week."

He smiled and nodded his agreement. "We can do that."

"Every Friday, since I usually have Fridays off?" she suggested.

He nodded, leaning in and kissing her cheek as his hand on her waist pulled her in closer. "Fridays."

And just like that, though their date wasn't even over yet, she was already looking forward with great anticipation to the next one.

* * *

The air outside was cooler than it had been when they arrived, so when they left the club, Bucky didn't think twice about slipping off his jacket and placing it on Summer's shoulders, and the gesture made her look back and him and smile warmly.

"You didn't have to do that," she said, sliding her arms through the sleeves and then pulling her hair out from the back. It was big, of course, but he liked the way that it looked on her.

"I get the feeling that if I didn't, I'd be disappointing people I can't remember," he half-joked, taking her hand in his as they began to follow Steve and Nat down the sidewalk, back towards home. She fell into step at his side and leaned her head on his shoulder as she walked, and his hand left hers so that his arm could wind around her waist.

"We wouldn't want that," she replied quietly. "Thanks for tonight. I loved it."

"Me too," he replied, and they crossed the street quietly together before stepping on to the next sidewalk.

"So," Summer said, pulling away a bit, "What now? Once we get home, I mean."

"I'm sure we'll think of something," he replied with a half-grin that she returned.

"I don't know... I'm kinda tired," she teased, feigning a yawn. "I might just go to sleep early tonight."

"Yeah?" he asked, coming to a stop with her before the next street they had to cross. Steve and Nat had crossed in time, so as the "don't walk" light flashed on the crosswalk, Bucky turned to Summer and said, "You don't look all that tired."

She smiled and shrugged. "Oh, I am. I'm still worn out from hitting that guy with the riding crop yesterday. Really exhausting stuff."

He chuckled. "Then maybe we should work on building up your endurance."

She widened her eyes slightly. "... Isn't that what we've been doing since we started doing... you know... things?"

He glanced at the crosswalk display again, then back to her and shook his head with a grin. "I've been going easy on you. If you _really_ want a workout..."

She laughed slightly nervously. "Oh God, I hope you're joking."

"One way to find out," he shrugged, grinning and then unknowingly biting his lip as she blushed and rolled her eyes at him.

"You're gonna be the death of me, I swear," she giggled before taking him by the collar and kissing him briefly but sweetly. He hugged her lightly before she pulled away, and with the "walk" signal back on and traffic stopped, she started heading into the street and he took a moment to watch her walk, the smile lingering on his face.

When she turned her head to look at him, her long dark hair flipping over her shoulder as a smile tugged at her lips, he almost pulled out his phone and took a picture because of how perfect she looked in that moment. Instead he just smiled as she turned all the way around, walking backwards a few steps as she teasingly asked, "Not gonna make me walk myself home, are you?"

He shook his head and then stepped out into the street, which was when movement just on the borderline of his peripheral vision made his eyes dart from her face to the sole empty lane of the road. But it wasn't empty anymore, because a small black car was speeding down it so fast that a fraction of a second was all he had to look at Summer and watch shock and horror dawn on her face.

There was nothing he could do but watch the car slam into her, and the sound of the chrome colliding with her body and the resulting crack he heard when she hit the concrete was something he would hear echo in his mind for the rest of his life. She screamed when it happened, and the sound pierced his ears more painfully than if two blades had been plunged into each one.

It felt like getting shoved back into the tiny cryo-chambers that HYDRA used to store him in, only worse. Everything went from happy and normal to ice-cold and unbearably quiet in less time than it took to draw a breath. He moved on autopilot, rushing forward to the ground on his knees beside her, his eyes wide and beyond horrified as he looked her over. Her eyes were closed - she lost consciousness the minute she hit the ground - and she was sprawled on the concrete. He was vaguely aware of his voice shakily saying her name over and over, louder and louder the longer he went unheard, but then he looked down and saw her right leg half-pinned to the ground by a tire. His left arm shot up and he lifted the car up by the front bumper and shoved it back, and he wasn't prepared for what he saw, what her leg looked like now.

He swallowed down a sickening lump in his throat and then moved up so that he was looking down at her face again. This time, he saw a thick trickle of blood pooling down from under her head. It ran slowly until it reached the collar of his leather jacket that she was still wearing.

Later, he would realized that he had begun screaming her name and for help at this point, but all he was aware of at that moment was Steve and Natasha rushing to his side.

Everything went a bit blurry as Steve gently pulled him off of her. He watched in a dazed panic as Natasha started checking Summer's breathing and her pulse. Then there was somebody else there, an onlooker, some woman in scrubs who looked like she might be a nurse, and then she was helping too. But all he could see was the blood still flowing from Summer's head and her right leg, a leg she had just been dancing on less than an hour ago, mangled and crushed.

He looked down and saw her blood on his hands, having gotten on them while he had been holding her face and pointlessly repeating her name over and over. It was all of his nightmares come true, the ones where she ended up limp on the ground and he standing over her, her blood dripping from his hands.

Something whispered to him then, something buried deep in the back of his mind that he had grown very skilled and adept at shoving down and away after months of therapy, but now it was there and he couldn't fight it. It knew what to do far better than he ever would in a situation like this.

It took over when he heard the engine of the car that had done this purr back to life. His eyes blinked once and then snapped up, blank and clear compared to the horrified daze within them a moment before. He stood up, staring into the windshield of the car as something much colder than shock and terror began to pulse in time with his racing heart.

The person behind the wheel was no spy, no HYDRA operative, no enemy of his or anyone else. It was a scared and cowardly kid, surely no older than 18, and in the single second that they spent staring back at each other, the kid hit the gas in reverse.

He got no further than ten feet down the road, because Bucky ran after the car and grabbed the front of it with his left hand and lifted it slightly, the back wheels screeching but taking the car nowhere. The kid didn't let off the gas, his face the picture of horror as Bucky slammed the car down, tearing off the entire front bumper in the process and throwing it aside into the street like scrap metal. Then he shoved his fist through the hood, right into the engine, leaving a hole in the middle of it that sparks and smoke starting pouring out of, taking away the kid's only means of escape.

He didn't care who saw. The entire city and every government bureau in the world could have been assembled and watching and it would have made no difference in what he did next. His increasingly vacant but deadly gaze never left the boy's as he went to the driver's side door, ripped it off, and grabbed the kid by the throat and threw him down on the pavement.

The kid cried out in pain when his body hit the ground, but all Bucky could hear was Summer's scream replaying over and over in his head, pushing him further into the tentacles of madness slithering and taking grip of his mind. He pinned the kid down with his knee and grabbed his throat again, this time with his right hand, smearing Summer's blood on the pale and rapidly bruising skin there.

He didn't hear Steve yelling at him to stop, nor did he feel the moisture running down from his cold and murderous eyes, because all he could see was the face of the man - boy - who might have just killed the woman he loved.

He was the world's most prolific and accomplished assassin, and yet he had never wanted to kill anyone the way that he wanted to kill this boy now. And he was going to rip him apart right there, in the middle of the streets of Manhattan, for all the world to see.

**A/N: ... uhhh... I'm not entirely sure what to say after... that lol, other than... I love you all and please don't hate me? *hides* Anyway... so, one review of the last chapter noted the heavy emphasis on sexytimes as of late, and now that this chapter is up, I can now explain why that has been the case lol, which is that this *waves hands upwards towards chapter* was about to happen and so I put an emphasis on the happy fun stuff. Because something decidedly not happy and not fun stuff was coming. So hopefully now that all makes somewhat better sense lol. Anyway, I thank you all for continuing to follow this story and put up with my obnoxious love of cliffhangers (I am a horrible person), and also big thanks to midnightwings96 as always for helping me out and for helping me tweak the last scene here. I love you all and I will see you all next week, as usual! *dives behind couch and hides until next Monday***


	27. Chapter 27

One of the worst feelings in the world, Steve had known since 1945, was the feeling of standing somewhere and having to watch something horrible happen to someone you love without having the power to do a single thing about it. As Sam described it, being there just to watch... it was uniquely horrifying in a way that only those who experienced it could truly understand.

Steve had never wanted to Bucky to know what that felt like. But now here they were, in the middle of a busy intersection in the heart of New York City, and Summer was laying on the pavement in front of where he was crouched, bleeding and broken in at least one place that was visible to even Steve's non-expert eyes. Coming back and finding her like this when he had realized that she and Bucky weren't behind him had made his blood run cold, made him instantly think the worst because of how lifeless a woman otherwise so full of life had looked in that moment. The horror that he had felt wasn't just for Bucky but for himself, having watched Summer become such a regular part of his own life with her smiles and positivity to rival his own, and now seeing her so badly and suddenly _hurt_ had hit him like a brick wall.

Meanwhile, no matter how loudly Steve yelled at him to stop, Bucky was across the street in the middle of trying to kill the person who had caused all of this.

"Steve, go!" Natasha yelled from Summer's other side, and Steve was up and on his feet running just as the sounds of sirens started blaring from down the street.

This was bad. Not only was Summer's condition unknown - and it looked _bad_ \- but the driver's car was now in pieces, having been unceremoniously ripped apart by Bucky probably less than two minutes ago. But that wasn't why Steve was running. He was running because Bucky was punching the driver's face into the concrete, and judging by the unnatural angle of one of the kid's legs, Bucky had broken it as an eye for an eye sort of thing.

Steve gave up trying to call Bucky's name and get him to snap out of it that way, instead running behind him and immediately grabbing him with both arms and hauling him back, off of the now-bloodied boy on the ground. Bucky fought him wildly, and trying to hold him back was like trying to restrain a rabid dog while dodging flying limbs and fists at the same time.

"Bucky stop, stop!" Steve pleaded, finding it almost impossible to hold Bucky back in his current crazed, adrenaline-enhanced state, but he didn't have a choice. Bucky eventually managed to turn around and then tried to throw Steve off of him, but Steve grabbed him and shoved him on the side of the car as he urged, "Bucky, stop and look around you. The ambulance is almost here, cops are almost here. You can't get arrested, especially not right now when she's gonna need you."

Bucky still struggled against Steve's hold, but the cold, vacant look in his eyes was slowly replaced by the dawning of realization. "But he... he..."

"I know," Steve said, his face pained. "I know, Bucky, but you've got to leave now before the cops get here."

Bucky's eyes widened in horror and he shook his head vehemently. "No! I can't leave her - I won't leave her. I -"

"If you don't leave now," Steve urged in a harsh whisper, "They're gonna find you and they're gonna know who you are and you _will_ leave her for good. You just ripped a car apart in front of witnesses, Bucky. _You need to run_."

He shook his head again, his eyes now shining with filling tears as his face became suddenly almost childlike in its horror. "I can't leave her, Steve."

"I'll stay with her, I promise," Steve said, looking over and seeing that the ambulance was there now. "And we'll get you into the hospital with her. But you have to leave _now_."

Not struggling anymore, Bucky blinked a few times, clearly coming back to himself in some capacity now, and he said after looking around, "They'll know you let me go."

Steve paused for only a moment before it became obvious what needed to happen. "Hit me. I'll hit the ground, then you run."

Bucky's face managed to fall even more. "Steve -"

"Dammit, Bucky, do it before they take you," Steve said, his tone one click away from becoming hysterical.

To his relief, Bucky's expression then hardened slightly, and as his right hand balled up into a fist, he said, "Take care of her until I get there."

Steve would have nodded, but the sudden and rather hard punch to his face knocked him back too quickly for him to do anything. For the sake of the punch's purpose, he went with the momentum of it and fell to the ground, and when he looked at where Bucky had once been, he saw no trace of him.

He breathed a sigh of relief. At the very least, now he didn't have to worry about Bucky being arrested, hauled away, identified, and then never heard from again. But Summer was still hurt and the kid who had hit her was now laying half-dead on the ground as well, and this was all still very, _very_ bad.

He got up and ran back to where Summer was, and he was further relieved now to see no fewer than eight paramedics surrounding her. Natasha was speaking to one of them, and when she caught Steve's eye, she walked quickly to him and asked, "Is he gone?"

Steve nodded. "I'm gonna have the black eye to prove it. Have they said if she's okay?"

"They just started working on her," Natasha replied. "She's breathing and her pulse is okay."

Steve nodded, though his eyes were glued to the pool of red underneath her head. Aside from her leg - which he couldn't stand to look at again after the first glance - it was the worst looking part of it all, and it was hard to not think the worst.

"He asked me to go with her, but I don't think they'll let me," he whispered to Nat, watching as they carefully loaded her on to a stretcher and strapped her so securely that no part of her body could move. "Do they let friends ride in the ambulance?"

"No," she shook her head. "Go run to them and start asking if she's okay. Tell them you're her fiancé."

He turned and looked at Nat with slightly wide eyes. "But -"

She pushed him from behind and hissed, "Go. You go with her like he asked, and I'll go find him."

Steve couldn't try to come up with another plan, because then Natasha vanished just as quickly as Bucky had. He then looked back in Summer's direction and did exactly as Nat told him to do, taking on the role of hysterical fiancé and descending upon the paramedics with half-shouted questions and pleas to ride in the ambulance with her. He thought he must have been getting better at this lying thing, because the medic who appeared to be in charge gave him the green light with a dismissive wave.

When they loaded her into the ambulance, he climbed in behind the medics and sat on the only free space that there was, on the very end of one of the side benches on the wall, and his eyes went to the monitors that she was now hooked up to. He stared at the numbers while his mind worked at a mile a minute, his thoughts chaotic and overlapping as they fired at a rapid rate. He would need to answer the police's questions about the boy who was being placed into a separate ambulance. There would be a _lot_ of questions. The boy could give a very detailed description of his attacker. There would be an investigation, undoubtedly.

He wanted to only worry about Summer, pray for her to make it through this and still be the same laughing, bubbly friend that had sparked new life in his best friend, but unfortunately, there was a _lot_ to worry about.

"Does she have any allergies?" asked one of the medics, startling Steve out of his thoughts.

"Oh, uh... no, none that I know of," he replied.

"Is she taking any medications?"

"No," he replied before he remembered something Bucky had mentioned almost three months ago. "Yes. Birth control. In a shot."

_Bucky should be here_, he thought as he watched the medic nod and then note the information on a chart. He could be here if only that kid had not provoked even deeper anger when he had tried to run. He could be here if only he had controlled his violent impulses, but could Steve even blame him?

"Any diseases like diabetes or heart disease?" the medic then asked, and Steve continued to answer the questions to the best of his ability, hoping that he was right, not needing to act to appear as fearful and sick as he felt every time he looked at Summer. It was still incomprehensible that this had actually happened, and there were so many horrible things that could result from this that he couldn't even bear to list them all.

But the most important thing was Summer being okay. He continued to watch her monitors and everything the medics did for her on the way to the ambulance, knowing that if she didn't recover, the sanity that Bucky had worked so hard to develop and maintain might just shatter into too many broken pieces to be put back together.

* * *

Bucky was good at many things, but disappearing was a particularly well-honed skill that came very much in handy that night. It didn't make the reality of the situation any easier, nor make any of it easier to believe.

He didn't want to just be in denial. He wanted to crawl inside of denial, wrap up his entire world in the idea that this was all a nightmare and that any minute he would wake up tangled up with Summer in his sheets, and she would be whole and healthy and not lying broken in the middle of New a York City intersection.

But, unlike the days where a machine would take away reality and replace it with mind-numbing cold and nothingness, he found that while he could outrun the authorities, he couldn't outrun the truth of what had happened. And when he ended up in a dark, filthy alleyway behind some random building, he half-stumbled against the wall and then slid down against it to the ground, shaking with the effort it took to breathe and not completely fall apart.

His hands were stained with blood, both Summer's and the kid who had hurt her, and everything felt like it was moving too fast, spinning out of control. Her scream and the sound of the car hitting her played on repeat in his head, making the monster inside purr rather than retreat to the buried place he usually managed to keep it locked inside of.

He wished Steve hadn't stopped him. It was taking all of his will and every last ounce of strength to not go back there and find the kid and finish the job.

But the other part of him, the voice that countered the monster and belonged to the man he had once been, was simply too devastated to give in to those murderous instincts.

He had seen people die from less. He had killed people himself and seen less blood drip from their bodies than what had been dripping from hers. But even if she did survive... what kind of shape would she be in? He had lifted a car from off of her leg. She had hit her head hard enough to potentially lose at least some of her memory.

And worst of all, he didn't know what was happening, because he had let the monster out and now Steve was with her instead of him.

He didn't know when he had begun to cry, because the truth was that he had never stopped once it had happened, but that was how Natasha found him. Slumped against the alley wall, hands covering his face as he didn't even try to fight the tears from falling. He couldn't remember the last time he had cried, but now, he couldn't stop.

"Barnes," she said softly, and he could tell by the sound of her voice that she was close. "Get up. We need to get you to the tower and then to the hospital."

He dropped his hands slowly and looked up at Natasha, seeing through the blur of moisture that she wasn't unaffected by all of this either, judging by the look on her face. But she was a rock. She was strong when others weren't, and this was one of those times.

"... Is Steve with her?"

She nodded. "He had to lie and say that he was her fiancé to get on the ambulance, but he's with her."

He nearly punched a hole into the alley wall. He was grateful that Steve was with her, but damn it, _he_ should be the one with her. And he had nobody to blame but himself for the fact that he wasn't.

"Come on," she said. "There's a lot to do."

Those words sparked something in his head that he had not realized until that moment. David was at the tower, blissfully unaware that anything was wrong with his mother. Paul was all the way across the country, trusting Bucky to take care of his sister.

They both needed to know. And he had to face them now, knowing that he had failed them both.

He got up and followed Natasha out of the alley, but not before she stopped him and gave him a look that was both gentle but stern as she asked, "Are you okay?"

He knew what she was asking. He nodded. She searched his eyes for a moment before nodding herself, and then they were back on their way, now that she seemed to be at least somewhat assured that he wasn't going to try to kill anyone else that night.

The truth was, he just didn't know. He didn't know anything, other than the fact that if he lost Summer, he might find HYDRA and hand himself over just for the simple relief of having the pain, and the last year, erased from his mind

* * *

David was asleep when Bucky got back to the tower, giving Darcy and Sam heart attacks when he stepped off the elevator pale as a ghost and covered in blood that wasn't his own. He left the explanations to Natasha, retreating to his room to scrub the blood away and change into clothes that weren't stained with the evidence of the night's horror. He moved on autopilot, feeling his chest tighten every time his racing thoughts turned to David, who would sleep tonight but awaken in the morning to... what?

Every time he blinked, he saw her crushed leg or her bleeding head, the blankness on her face as she laid there unconscious or the split second of horror that he had seen in her eyes when she had seen the car coming.

When he had finished cleaning himself up and was dressed, he left his bathroom and then headed straight for his door, not intending to look anywhere else lest he see something of hers that might make him fall apart all over again, but he failed at that when he caught a glimpse of a pair of her heels sitting next to his dresser on the floor. He stopped and stared at them, the ice threatening to freeze over his blood again as his heart took another stab right to its center.

Those shoes, as innocuous as they may have seemed to anyone else, symbolized and meant so much more than just what she wore on her feet. She teased him with those shoes, enticed him with them, walked on them at the top floor of the tower as she did her work, danced on them, wore them with a sense of confidence that had grown significantly since he had first watched her stumble clumsily in high heels on their first date months ago.

Now he wasn't sure if he would get to see her do any of those things again.

A soft knock to his slightly open door snapped his attention away from the shoes, and he looked up to find Natasha standing in the doorway.

"Ready?" she asked. He shrugged vaguely and she added, "Steve checked in. They made it to the hospital and they're working on her now. He's dealing with the police."

The police. God, what a mess he had made of something that was already horrible. His eyes dropped and his expression became confused, and as if Natasha could read his mind, she said, "We've got this. We'll figure it out."

"But the kid," he said, and the hoarse, small quality of his voice made his very bones cringe.

"One thing at a time," she said.

Bucky nodded, trying not to think about what might happen if the kid ended up dying from his injuries, or recovering and identifying his attacker. Then there was the whole matter of witnesses seeing a man tear a car apart with his bare hands.

"I screwed up."

"That's an understatement," Natasha replied honestly. "But it's not like you're the first. Come on."

He nodded then and followed her. On the way out, Sam gave his shoulder a pat and offered his help in anything Bucky needed. He nodded back, appreciative of the gesture but well aware that there was nothing Sam or anybody else could do.

Things fell into a blur when he followed Natasha into her car, taking the passenger seat and suddenly feeling the weight of his phone in his pocket like it weighed a ton. He didn't want to touch it, didn't want to pick it up and use it to call one of the people that he was most terrified of facing, but it wouldn't be right for anyone else to do it. He couldn't put it off, either, because whatever happened to Summer, one thing that he knew beyond a doubt was that she would need her brother once she woke up.

And so, as Natasha drove them through the dark streets of the city, he steeled himself as best as he could and pulled out his phone. He found one of the last numbers in his admittedly sparse contacts and stared for just a few seconds before he forced himself to hit the call button and press the phone to his ear.

Paul answered after the second ring and didn't bother with a hello. "Oh God, this can't be good."

Bucky squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw, unable to speak for a moment. Of course Paul would know that something was wrong immediately. Bucky never communicated with the man at all unless he was visiting and standing or sitting directly in front of him.

"... Hello?"

He drew a deep breath and forced out words that cut worse than knives to have to speak. "She... something happened. She got hurt."

The single word that Paul said back was so small and horrified that it almost sounded like a child had spoken it. "What?"

He closed his eyes again and dragged his hand to his face, feeling the tears swell up again behind his eyes and threaten his ability to speak.

He couldn't do this. He couldn't. But he had to.

"There was a car," he muttered. "She was crossing the street and it didn't stop and it..."

"Oh my God." Paul's voice sounded like the exact mirror image of what Bucky felt. Horror and disbelief and all of their shared worst fears combined.

"She's gonna need you," Bucky said. There was silence for a few long seconds, and then the line disconnected.

He dropped his phone and then stared forward at the road, his hand held over his mouth as if it could hold back what he was feeling. As hard as that was, he couldn't imagine David finding out about this. It was too much. Just imagining the look that would be on the boy's face and the fear and the confusion...

"Almost there," Natasha said, glancing over at him. "Keep it together."

He nodded, but he knew it was in vain. Keeping it together implied being whole, and as long as Summer was broken, then so would he be as well.

* * *

Summer would have surely teased him about the hat on his head and how ineffective of a disguise that it was, but the only thing that Bucky could think of when he stepped into the hospital was the _smell_.

It was enough to make him stop in his tracks as soon as he had walked through the automatic doors and feel like an invisible wave had broken over his head. Suddenly, at the worst possible time that it could have happened, for a split second he wasn't standing in a New York hospital. Instead, he was held down, restrained, back in the center of all his worst memories and in the hands of HYDRA, all because they must have cleaned the damn lab facilities they kept him in with the same chemicals used in hospitals.

But Natasha recognized his suddenly vacant stare for what it was, and her hand on his arm made him blink and return partially to the present.

"You okay?"

He nodded, blinking a few more times and pushing away the flashback that he most certainly did _not_ need right now. It didn't stop the cold sweat that he had instantly broken into, however, or the sudden paleness that had descended upon his already-pallid face.

"Yeah, yeah," he shook his head. "It's the smell, it's..."

She looked at him for a moment before nodding, understanding. "You'll get used to it."

He didn't think that he would, but it made no difference. All this did was make an already impossible night even more difficult.

He looked at Natasha, at the cool and calm picture that she presented, and she gave him an imperceptible nod before walking again. He followed her, keeping his head down and silently trying to mentally prepare himself for what lay ahead.

Natasha checked her phone as they walked, and according to her, Steve was still dealing with the cops somewhere in the hospital. Avoiding them, Natasha asked an older woman at the front desk about Summer, and the lady directed them to the second floor, where the ICU was located.

On the short elevator ride there, Natasha leaned slightly closer to Bucky and said, "Tell them your name is James McAdams. If you're not a spouse or family they won't let you in."

He furrowed his brows and said, "But I thought Steve said he was her fiancé."

"He told the _paramedics_ that to get in the ambulance," she said. "He's been dealing with the police ever since he got here. I can guarantee you he hasn't lied since then. At least not about that."

The doors then opened, and Bucky drew a breath that didn't help him calm down very much. Pretending to be Summer's husband didn't bother him, but the insinuation that Steve was lying to the cops to cover for him did, just a little bit. He had to wonder what the story was that Steve had concocted to keep all of this away from Bucky, but it would mean nothing the second the kid described his attacker.

But he could worry about that later. For now, he and Natasha walked to the nurse's station after they stepped off on to the second floor. As soon as they arrived at the desk, a nurse in light green scrubs with dark skin and a friendly smile looked up and asked, "Can I help you?"

For half a second, his mind went blank and everything swirling in his head suddenly refocused entirely on the only thing in the world that truly mattered at that moment, which was the woman that was somewhere on this floor, behind the two large doors blocking the ICU to his view.

"I'm... my wife is here," he said quietly, the words not feeling as strange as he might have thought they would. "She was in an accident tonight."

"Name?"

"Summer McAdams," he said, feeling another pang just from saying her name.

The nurse typed some on the computer in front of her, and then after a moment, she said, "Looks like she was just brought up here less than an hour ago. It'll be a little longer until they allow a visitor."

He had been afraid of that. "Is she okay?"

The question felt as stupid as he thought it sounded, but the nurse was kind and said, "I'm not her nurse, but I'll find out who is and ask for you, okay?"

He nodded, muttered his thanks, and then watched as the woman stood up and and then disappeared behind the ICU doors. He didn't move an inch or hardly breathe until she came back, which was a full five minutes later.

"The good news is she's stable," the nurse said, moving back behind the desk. "Right now they're waiting on a few tests to come back to know the extent of her injuries. The doctor knows you're here and will be coming out to talk to you soon. The waiting room is just down the hall to your right."

He nodded, thanked the nurse again, and tried to make that information satisfy his need for more as he turned and headed down the hall with Natasha, who hadn't left his side once. He didn't know much more than he had before, but at least now he was closer to Summer, and soon - hopefully - he could be by her side again.

He had nearly reached the waiting room when Steve exiting the elevator further down the hall caught his eye. He and Natasha stopped just outside the waiting room and Steve quickly caught up to them, asking in a quiet voice, "Is there any news?"

"Just that she's stable and they're waiting on tests," Natasha replied. "What about the police?"

Bucky watched Steve as he dropped his voice down lower and replied, "Well, they sure seemed like they believed my story once they got my name."

Nat sighed and muttered, "I hope the story was a good one."

"I said that she's a friend," Steve explained, "and that after... it happened, some guy came out of nowhere while I was trying to help her and attacked the driver. I tried to stop him, we fought, he ran away."

Bucky cast his eyes down to the floor, not wanting to think about that and what he had done in his rage anymore. Then Steve added, "I did have to give a description, and I kept it accurate enough that when the kid gives one, it won't be drastically different."

"You mean _if_ he gives one," Natasha remarked somewhat darkly. "Speaking of that, I'm going to make a few calls. Find out his condition."

Steve nodded as she walked away, and then he glanced at Bucky and led him into the waiting room with a comforting pat to his shoulder. There were a few others in the waiting room, an older man by himself and a few women who looked like sisters sitting together, and Steve led Bucky to the most deserted corner and then sat him down. Bucky kept his eyes mostly on the floor as Steve leaned in a bit closer and said, "I'm sorry, Bucky."

He looked up and looked at the man like he was nuts, like that was the last thing he had the slightest reason to say. But Steve just shook his head slightly and said, "I know what it's like to watch something like that happen. And how it feels when you know there's nothing you can do about it."

Bucky knew what Steve was referring to, and he couldn't think of a thing to say back. He just nodded slightly and then cast his eyes back downwards, and they sat there in silence for awhile. He wasn't sure how much time had passed when a man's voice called from a short distance away for a "Mister McAdams", and it took a few full seconds for him to register that it was him who was being called.

His head snapped up and he jumped to his feet before he had even taken a full glance at the doctor. It was an older man, wearing a white lab coat and holding a chart under his arm, looking at Bucky through small square glasses as he walked to him and said, "You're the husband, right?"

He nodded without hesitation, stopping a few feet in front of the doctor. Steve wasn't far behind. "How is she?"

"Well," the doctor began, glancing at the chart, "the leg's in bad shape and she's got one hell of a concussion and two broken ribs, but aside from that, she's stable. So far her scans are clean but with the kind of hit that she took, memory and other functions are always a concern, but we won't know that until she wakes up."

He blinked. "Wakes up?"

"She's pretty heavily sedated at the moment," the doc explained. "Honestly right now the leg is my main concern. The injury is very significant and over the next 24 hours, we'll know whether she can keep it or if there's just too much damage."

Bucky's eyes widened. "You mean... you might have to..."

The doctor nodded sympathetically. "It's a possibility. But I'm optimistic. It says here," he checked the chart again, "that her leg was pinned under the car for about a minute. That's important because if it had been longer, the chances of the leg being saved would have dropped significantly. Like I said, I'm optimistic, but we need see how it goes over the next 24 hours."

Bucky nodded, his brain processing the information, trying to find at least a degree of relief in the doctor's words, but there was only so much to be had. He would only be relieved when she was awake with her memory intact, and her leg still attached to her body.

"Now we're not big on visitors in the ICU at these hours," the doctor said, "but I can take you in to see her. I can't guarantee how long you can stay, though."

"Okay," Bucky nodded quickly, jumping at the opportunity. He turned and looked at Steve, who gestured for him to go on, and Bucky gave him the most grateful look that he could muster while making a mental note to thank Steve later fully for everything he had done to help that night.

The doc nodded and gestured to the large doors down the hall. "Follow me."

Bracing himself, Bucky fell into step slightly behind the doctor, trying to stuff down the dread that he felt and be strong instead. As much as he needed to be next to Summer, a part of him was terrified to see her in the state that she was in. He hadn't realized how much he relied on her to be strong and whole for the both of them until now, and now that she had an undoubtedly long recovery ahead of her, the thought that now he had to be the strong one was almost too much to bear.

But he focused on one thing at a time, as his therapist had stressed many times, and his eyes snapped up from the floor when the doctor asked him a question.

"How long have you two been married?"

He faltered for a moment before blurting an answer, the first thing that popped into his head. "A year."

"Still newlyweds," the doctor sighed. "I'm so sorry. But the good news is that she's young and I've seen full recoveries from much worse. She's right in here."

Following the doctor past a line of rooms with numbered doors, he held his breath when the man stopped at one and reached for the door handle. He opened it and then gestured for Bucky to walk through first, and while still holding that same breath, he put one foot in front of the other and stopped as soon as he walked inside and laid eyes on her.

The room was small, just large enough for a bed in the center and the necessary equipment, plus a small solitary chair in the corner. And in the center of it all, in that bed, laid the woman he loved.

Her leg was bandaged completely from mid-thigh down and elevated in a way that looked horridly uncomfortable. Gauze was wrapped around the crown of her head, and wires and tubes ran from multiple parts of her body to various machines and monitors, all beeping noisily and displaying her vital signs. Her face was paler than usual, and though her eyes were closed and her face looked calm, it was an artificial sort of calm and not the kind of genuine, blissful kind that he liked to see on her face when she was sleeping next to him. This was all wrong - everything was wrong, and it made the tightness in his chest ache and radiate through his whole body.

He stepped closer to her slowly, his eyes sweeping along every inch of her, as the doctor checked the monitors and marked a few things on his chart. Bucky went to her left side, unable to do much more than stand there and stare, feeling the tenuous control he had gained over himself in the last few hours start slipping again.

The doctor patting his shoulder almost made him jump and slam the man to the wall in sheer surprise, but all he did was flinch slightly.

"We'll take good care of her. And like I said, our policy in the ICU on visitors isn't the best, but I'll see what we can do about letting you stay here tonight if you want."

He nodded quickly and replied, "Thank you."

The doctor nodded, gave him a tight smile, and then left the room, the door softly clicking shut behind him. Bucky then turned back to Summer, back to the pain that the sight of her lying there helpless and sedated caused him, and it didn't take long for his resolve to crumble alongside his emotions, all of it beyond his control.

He didn't touch her, afraid that if he did, she would break completely and be lost to him for good. Instead, he gripped one of the rails of the bed and stared at her, giving in fully to the pain and turmoil within instead of trying to ignore it or control it like he had been ever since Steve had pulled him off of the kid and told him to run.

He tried to be grateful that she was alive, that the doctor was optimistic about her chances for recovery, and he was. But there was no positive way to look at this. Even if she walked again, it would be a long time, and he knew that without having to hear it from a medical professional. Everything was going to change now, and she was going to have to deal with pain on a scale that she had never experienced before. Her life as she knew it had turned upside down. David's comfortable routine was going to be shot to hell, and that was the least of the reasons why this was terrible for David.

She had promised David only hours ago that she would take him to the park on her next day off and spend the whole day with him doing whatever he wanted to.

Bucky had promised _her_ that Fridays would be their day to go dancing every week. She had gotten so much better at it since he had first begun to teach her those months ago. Her confidence had grown and she had moved with ease earlier that night, his equal in every sense of the word within his mind, and things had been so good that he should have _known_ that something horrible was coming.

But in the end, as with everything else, it was his fault. That she was lying here and not safe in a warm bed under the same roof as her child was his fault, even more so than the kid who had been driving the car that hit her.

He had been born to lose, to fall and to hurt every single person that had ever cared about him. Maybe he had shed too much blood, caused too much death and pain by his own hands, and now this was a taste of all of that catching up with him. Maybe there was simply too deep of a blood debt for him to pay, and this was fate or whatever the hell was out there's way of collecting overdue payments, while helpfully reminding him that even with all of his unnatural strength and deadly skill, he still couldn't protect those that he loved most in the world from a damn thing.

He cried quietly, but deeply and hard enough to make his chest rattle, until he ran out of tears to cry. And all the while, the only part of her that he allowed himself to touch was the ends of a small piece of her hair that laid against the bed. His flesh fingertips pressed down on those strands as he pleaded silently and uselessly to her to wake up, to be okay, to walk again and forgive him for something he would never forgive himself for.

* * *

The night passed in a blur. Eventually Bucky sat down in the tiny chair in the corner, staring at Summer's monitors and letting the beeps and the noises and the sound of her breathing hypnotize him into a dull, entirely horrible, sense of hazy numbness that did nothing to comfort or calm anything he felt inside.

Nobody asked him to leave the room. Instead, Summer's main nurse, a friendly, motherly dark-skinned woman with eyes that were some of the most kind he had ever seen in this century, rolled in a different kind of chair for him to sit in and even grabbed him a pillow. He awkwardly accepted the kindness, answered the nurse's questions about them and their situation, and in turn asked her if Summer would be waking up soon.

"I can't tell you that, honey," the woman had said gently, replacing one of Summer's IV bags. "But it's really for the best that she's out right now. Even with all these meds we're giving her, she's gonna wake up in a whole lot of pain."

He couldn't cry or let himself get worked up all over again over that, because he wasn't sure that he was capable of producing tears at the time.

About twenty minutes later, the nurse returned with a bottle of water and some bag of random snacks, saying that there was a "blonde pretty boy" trying to convince the head nurse to let him violate their policy of one visitor to a patient at a time so that he could bring Bucky sustenance, but since the answer was no, she decided to do it for him and lend a hand herself.

Bucky wasn't sure how to handle that kind of kindness from a stranger, and he was pretty sure that she wouldn't have been so nice had she known that he had almost murdered a kid earlier. Or that he _had_ murdered more people than he could count in the course of his life.

Not long after that thought had run through his head, he got a text from Steve telling him that Nat had found out the kid's condition. He was in another hospital across town and was in a coma. She hadn't been able to find out much more than that.

Then, as he processed that information, he got a text from Paul saying that he would be there within an hour or two. Bucky had no idea how that was possible, since even if he had managed to get on the first flight from California to New York, that would still put his arrival at least three or four hours later than that. But Bucky didn't comment on the strangeness, and Paul didn't say anything else. Bucky had heard the nurse mention that a brother had been calling the hospital every hour to check on her condition. He wasn't surprised or offended that he would rather ask the nurses about Summer than him.

A few times, in the course of the night, his eyes closed of their own accord, and the sound of the beeps and clicks in the room lulled him to uneasy sleep. His head would slowly drop to the side and he would doze only to jump and wake up with a sickening start when he would see Summer being hit by the car all over again. This cycle repeated itself until the sun began to rise, by which point he stood up and started pacing the room in order to stay awake and stop torturing himself with the memory of the accident and her scream.

And through it all, she still didn't wake up. She stirred a few times, but her eyes never opened. The longer time dragged on, the more he started to worry that she really had sustained some kind of brain injury beyond a concussion, but then he reminded himself that they had overloaded her on drugs and that they had said that her scans looked okay.

With the morning came a shift change and daytime visitor policies that allowed two people in the room at once. Bucky had sat back down in the chair and had gone back to staring at the monitors when the door opened and he saw Steve's face peek inside. Then a familiar sense of cold and mild panic settled over him when the door opened more fully and Paul appeared in the doorway.

He stood up immediately, unsure of why but moving on an exhausted form of autopilot at this point. Paul looked his way for one very small fraction of a second before turning his eyes to his sister. Bucky stood against the wall, glancing at Steve who gestured that he'd be outside and then closed the door. He then turned his own eyes back to Summer, as Paul slowly walked closer and looked at her, the silence in the room utterly deafening.

It felt like an eternity passed where neither of them said a word or moved an inch. Paul just stood there, his expression moving from shocked to sad to horrified to angry. Bucky didn't look up to see any of it. He didn't know what to say to the man, what he could _possibly_ say that would mean a thing at a time like this. If he was Paul, he would hate himself. He wouldn't just stand there like that. He would clench his fist and turn around and punch himself right in the...

Bucky's snapped up when he noticed that Paul had turned around and was now standing in front of him, but before he could register the blind fury on the man's face or his fists balling up at his sides, Paul threw a punch at his face. It wasn't a particularly _good_ punch, but it landed right on the left side of his jaw and he stumbled back a bit against a blood pressure monitor due to the sheer unexpectedness of the hit. Once he righted himself and turned his head back towards Paul, he saw the devastated and furious look on his face, and then it was no surprise when he grabbed Bucky by his shirt and yelled something so full of sadness and rage that it made Bucky's self-hatred reach new heights.

"You _promised_ me you would protect her!"

Bucky's eyes stung as he replied with a voice that was barely above a shaky whisper. "I'm sorry."

When Paul answered with another punch, a harder one that connected with his nose this time, he didn't fight back. He didn't try to stop the man, not even when he hit him again, and again, and then again. He didn't move an inch, letting himself be Paul's punching bag because he deserved it, he deserved every last punch and much worse.

The faint taste of copper in his mouth was the last thing he noticed before Paul was suddenly being pulled away from him, and Bucky looked up to see Steve as the reason why. Nat was there too, and there were also some concerned hospital staff at the door, probably ready to call security and kick everybody out at any moment.

He wished that they had just let Paul keep going. He straightened up against the wall, wiping his bottom lip with his right hand that then came away slightly slightly bloody, and he watched as Steve tried to calm Paul down.

"It wasn't his fault. There was nothing anybody could do."

"But he promised... he promised me, and now look at her. _Look_ at her! None of this ever would have happened if he had just left her alone. First her house, and now this. He's..."

Paul whipped around then, still being held back by Steve, and pointed a finger in Bucky's direction, his eyes vicious. "I don't care who drove the car. _You_ did this. You did this and you _know_ it." Steve tried to tell him to stop but he went on, while Bucky stared at him and made no effort to defend himself. "I knew something like this would happen the minute I met you. I _knew_ it. I knew you'd hurt her."

Everything coming out Paul's mouth was irrational to everyone in the room aside from Bucky. To him, Paul was merely saying the very same things that he had been telling himself since this happened, but that didn't make hearing it from him any easier. He wasn't aware of how his eyes were shining again, or how he looked slightly nauseous as he listened to the rant, because his focus was on the stiflingly hot sense of pure shame creeping up his spine.

He felt less than human, like he was worth less than a speck of dirt on the ground. Everything he had ever hated about himself and his past and his present converged through Paul's words and left him with only one option that he felt worthy of: running away.

He walked out of the room, stormed out of the ICU through the two main doors and into the hallway outside, having no idea where he was going or what he was doing. But the shame was overwhelming, the regret and the reality of it all, and letting it all fall on his shoulders pushed him into a fight or flight sort of dilemma. And there was no way he would fight to defend himself.

He heard Steve catch up behind him as he stomped down the hallway.

"Bucky," Steve said quietly, trying to keep the sound of his name away from other ears. "Stop, come on. He's in shock, he didn't mean any of that."

Bucky didn't say a word. He just kept walking, wishing Steve would just leave him alone.

Steve caught up fully and reached out and gently grabbed his right arm. "Bucky -"

He snapped. He couldn't help it. He turned around and threw Steve's hand off of him, then pushed him with such force that it shocked even himself. It felt vaguely like he was watching himself do this, rather than being in control of his own actions. Steve hit the wall, leaving a dent in it, and then Bucky held him there with his right hand while his left pulled back, ready to spring forward and pummel his friend for absolutely no reason.

What stopped him was Natasha barking his name from the other end of the hallway. Bucky's slightly crazed, still-shining eyes darted to her and then back to Steve, which was when he saw the sad and bewildered look on Steve's face. Then he looked at his own fist, metal underneath the holographic image making it look like human flesh, and then he let go of Steve and stumbled back so fast that it almost made him dizzy.

He was losing it, falling apart, unraveling. He could feel it, and there was nothing Steve could do to help him, despite his best intentions.

"Stay away from me," he said in what was meant to be a menacing growl but instead came out as a broken half-plea. He turned then and walked away, back of his shaky right hand wiping at his eyes, and he had no idea where he was going, but all he knew was that he needed to _go_.

Meanwhile, Steve automatically moved to follow him, but Natasha grabbed his hand and pulled him back. "Let him go, Steve."

He looked at her like she was nuts. "But Nat, he's -"

"You can't always help him," she said bluntly, despite how she knew his face would fall slightly as soon as he heard those words. "That's not what you want to hear but it's the truth. You're smothering him if you go after him now."

Steve looked at her, then down the hallway where Bucky had disappeared, and then closed his eyes as despair washed over his features. Natasha let go of his hand as he leaned his back against the wall, running his hands over his face before he muttered, "This is horrible."

Natasha pursed her lips slightly, not disagreeing in the slightest. "And it's almost about the time that David will be waking up."

Steve suddenly looked at her in quiet horror. She drew a breath and said, "I'll go after him in a little bit, after he's had time to calm down. Go keep an eye on her brother."

"You sure?" Steve asked.

She nodded. "Yes. I think he needs a certain... approach right now that isn't your strong suit."

Steve looked a little saddened by that, but he didn't argue with her. She gave his hand a slight squeeze, then turned to let go and head the way that Bucky had gone.

Steve pulled her back at the last minute, his hands going to her face and holding it gently as he leaned down and pressed a short, gentle kiss to her lips that she hadn't expected. When he pulled away, he opened his eyes and said sincerely, "Thank you, Nat. For everything."

She nodded, just the slightest quirk to her lips, and then they parted, one going one way and the other going another. If nothing else, they were as good a team in a personal crisis as they were in a national security one.

* * *

Bucky wasn't fully sure why he had ended up outside, in the back of the hospital, not far from a row of dumpsters that lined the building. Maybe it had been the air that he needed, or just solitude, or both, but regardless of why he had come here, it hadn't helped.

He didn't want to be there. He wanted to be with Summer, at her side where he had been all night, but now he was afraid to go back. He was afraid to do anything. He didn't know _what_ to do, and his spiraling self control was sparking genuine panic in his head. He hadn't felt this out of control since the night he inadvertently led HYDRA to Summer's home and caused its destruction, only this felt worse.

He sat there alone for what felt like a long time before he heard footsteps. He knew who it was before he looked up, and this felt a lot like when she had found him in the alley way the night before.

"Feeling better yet?"

He almost laughed. Instead he continued to stare forward and said nothing, because there was nothing to say and he wanted her to go away. He knew she wouldn't though.

When she sat down next to him, he blinked a few times in genuine surprise, but he still wouldn't look at her. She didn't say a word for a long time, both of them appearing to find the pavement in front of them quite fascinating.

Finally he had to ask the question that had been on the tip of his tongue since he heard her footsteps. "Why are you here?"

"_That's_ your question?" Natasha teased lightly.

"You don't like me. You never have. I don't like you that much either." Apparently, emotional turmoil made him very honest.

"I think it's a little more complicated than that," she replied.

Finally he turned his head and looked at her, his eyes like dead weights in their sockets. "It's not."

She rolled her eyes slightly at him, like he was missing something obvious, and she turned her eyes forward again and said, "Mirrors aren't always pleasant to look at, Barnes."

Maybe he was simply too tired and upset to understand such gibberish. He blinked and furrowed his brows. "What?"

"The same people made us who we are," she said, leaning her head back and glancing up at him. "Not the same individuals, but the same ideas. The names change but the people are always the same and they're always there. Methods change too but the results are the same. Take the person out and replace it with higher purpose, skills that nobody else has, loyalty to... whoever's pulling the strings."

He stared at her, watching her eyes take on a far-away quality that he knew all too well.

"I try to forget all of that," she said. "I try to make up for what I did but I know I can't. Nothing can. That's the reality that nobody wants to admit." Then she looked at him and said, "Seeing you every day makes it a hell of a lot harder to try to forget."

He still didn't understand. It wasn't like their histories were linked in a personal sense. She turned away again and went on, "It was never that I didn't like you. Sometimes I don't like myself. And we're more alike than anybody realizes."

Oh. His eyes widened slightly, in slight disbelief over what she had admitted, especially when she was the picture of confidence most of the time. But he knew self-hatred. He knew exactly what it was that he saw etched on her face at that moment, though he had never seen it there before.

"Everything you've done, I guarantee that I've done it too, and probably worse," she said. "It's all on the Internet, if you're curious."

He wasn't curious.

She turned back to him then and said, "Steve tries his best to help you. But he doesn't always realize that sometimes he can't. He can't because unless you've experienced what we have, there's just no way to fully understand it. That's why I'm here instead of him."

"I don't think you can help me either," he said quietly.

"Maybe not," she shrugged. "But there's a little boy back at the tower who needs you, and I'm his best shot at convincing you of that."

His eyes widened and it felt like a weight dropped on top of his chest. He shook his head. "I can't."

"You have to," she said a little more sternly.

He shook his head, feeling panic creep back up on him. "I don't know what to do with him. I can't tell him what happened. I can't..."

"Listen to me," she said, her tone utterly serious as she turned more fully towards him. "I know you're panicking. I know this is terrifying and it's a nightmare. But that doesn't stop the world from spinning. You can't stop either."

He stared at the ground, muttering, "Paul should get him. He'd know what to do. He's family, I'm not."

Nat looked at him slightly incredulously and said, "When Paul visited the tower, who was David attached to the entire time? Who does he see every day? Who does he know? He doesn't know Paul, not really. Not like he knows you."

When Bucky continued to shake his head, Natasha sat up straighter and surprised him by calling him by his preferred name and not his surname, as she usually did. "Bucky."

He looked at her, and she said, "Whether you realize it or not, right now, you're the only parent that kid has."

Her words served as a punch to the very center of his being, but not the painful kind that he had been struggling with since the accident. He stared at her with wide eyes that were trying to fill up with tears _again_, and the sad frown on his face deepened as he tried and failed to cling to disbelief of what she had just said.

He had absolutely no idea how to be a parent, how to even pretend to be one, but Natasha was right.

"You need to pull yourself together and go get him," she said. "And I guarantee you that when she wakes up, she'll be glad that it was you who took care of him and not someone else."

He stared forward again, mind racing as he asked barely above a whisper, "What do I tell him?"

"... The truth," she replied. "He's a tough kid. He'll get through this, just like she will. This isn't the end of the world."

He closed his eyes, taking a breath and then running the back of his hand over his eyes. He didn't want to do this, and just the thought of being the one to wake David up and tell him what had happened, changing his life and scaring him to death in a handful of sentences - it was the absolute last thing in the world that he wanted to do. But he had to do it. Natasha was right, even if he had not truly realized his own significant role in the kid's life until she had said the words out loud.

It was overwhelming, but then again, today, so was _everything_.

Eventually, after a few more steadying breaths and doing his best to calm his mind for the sake of what he had to do, Bucky leaned forward and brushed his hair back off of his forehead. He looked at Natasha one more time before he made himself stand up. "Thank you."

She nodded, and when she said "You're welcome" in English, he only then realized that they had been conversing in Russian the entire time.

He got up and got to his feet. Hopefully, by the time he brought David to the hospital, Summer would wake up and, at the very least, the beginning of this ordeal would finally come to an end.

* * *

Natasha drove Bucky back to the tower while Steve stayed behind at the hospital. He spent the whole ride there mulling over his words in his head, trying to figure out exactly what to say to David and how to say it. But all of his thinking left him no more prepared than he was when he first climbed into the car, and once he was inside the tower and on their floor, he headed straight for the hallway Natasha staying with him until he reached the door of the room that Summer and David shared.

"I'll be out here," she said quietly, and he nodded as she headed towards her own room. He turned back to the door and sighed, closing his eyes and turning the knob quietly before opening the door and looking inside the room.

It was a bit messy, since Summer had been preoccupied lately and hadn't had a lot of time to clean like she normally did, but he didn't pay much attention to the clothes and toys scattered on the floor. Instead, he looked at the bed, where David was burrowed under his red white and blue Captain America blanket and still sleeping peacefully, and with one more deep breath, Bucky made his way to the bed and sat on the side of it, next to where David laid.

The boy stirred a little at the slight motion of Bucky sitting next to him, and Bucky watched and waited silently to see if he would wake up on his own. When he didn't, Bucky reached out and hesitantly gave David's shoulder the tiniest of shakes, while he said his name in a tone so quiet and exhausted it barely sounded like his own.

That seemed to do the trick. David rolled over, his hands going to his eyes and rubbing at them before dropping them and opening his eyes, blinking them sleepily and then looking up at Bucky in confusion. Bucky had never woken him up before, so this was definitely an odd start to his day.

"Hey kid," he said quietly, trying not to cringe as David sat up and looked around, undoubtedly looking for his mother. When he looked back at Bucky, his mind went blank and useless for a moment, and his mouth opened but nothing came out.

How was he supposed to do this?

Before he could think of a way to start, David looked at him and signed something, placing his thumb under his chin with his fingers spread out in the air, and it took Bucky a minute to recognize that as the sign for "mom" or "mommy".

The tightness in his chest felt like a fist squeezing his heart at this point. He thought that his face must have been showing it, because David's expression grew more confused and maybe slightly scared the longer he stared at him. He knew something was wrong, so Bucky forced himself to say something.

"She... your mom... she got hurt last night," he said quietly, as gently as he could. "That's why she's not here. She's okay. But she's in the hospital right now."

David's eyes got a little bigger, and then his eyebrows furrowed. Bucky could see the little boy thinking, trying to understand what he was being told, so Bucky added, "I'm gonna take you to see her. You'll... you'll have to be careful around her because she's... she's hurt, but... she'll get better."

In his lap, David started curling his fingers together, fidgeting while he stared down and tried to think through what he was hearing. Bucky glanced down at his hands, then at his face, asking gently, "You want to go see her? We can leave now."

David then looked up and nodded, then sprang off of the bed and toddled into the bathroom. Bucky let out a sigh of relief, that having gone much better than he thought it would have, but David also had no clue of the severity of Summer's injuries. Once he actually saw her, then surely things would change.

But, once again, one thing at a time.

Bucky sat on the bed and watched as David left the bathroom, then went about his normal routine of getting dressed like it was any other day. Now six, he preferred to do everything himself, even picking out his own clothes and combing his hair, so that left Bucky with little to do, and he was relieved that the main things he had to worry about were food and drinks. Those should be easy. Hopefully.

After his clothes were changed, David grabbed his backpack from the closet and then went around the room, throwing stuff into it. In went a few favorite toys, his tablet and its charger, and then he zipped it up and sat on the floor to affix his little replica of Steve's shield on to the backpack, so that when he put it on, it looked like he had the shield on his back instead.

Once the whole process was done, and he put his shoes and backpack on, he stood there and looked at Bucky expectantly. Bucky stared back for a minute before snapping out of it and getting up, having been momentarily distracted by the very precise and almost methodical way that David had gotten himself ready. But thank God he wasn't a smaller, needier child, or else Bucky would have been even more clueless than he already was.

"Okay. Let's go," he said, leading the way to the door. David followed close behind, and after they made it down the hall, Bucky stopped at the entrance to the kitchen area and glanced down at David. "Uh... are you hungry?"

David nodded. Bucky then wondered how the heck he was going to figure out what David wanted when he didn't speak.

But David ended up making it easy for him, peering at one of the counters and pointing to something on it. Bucky followed his finger to a box of donuts from the day before. He breathed another sigh of relief, thankful that his choice was about as easy as it got. He grabbed the whole box, then turned to see David miming taking a drink.

Right. He needed a drink too. He knew that Summer always bought big economy sized packs of juice boxes because he was picky but would always drink those good, so thus began his search of the pantry and cabinets looking for the damn things.

It wasn't until he was crouched down searching under a pile of crap at the bottom of the pantry that he felt a tiny tug on the bottom of his shirt. He glanced behind him and saw David standing there, then watched as he pointed to a cabinet that he had already looked in. But he checked again anyway, and this time, he finally found the elusive juice boxes.

Having no idea how many of them David would need, he took the whole 24-pack and then balanced the donut box on top of it. "Ready?"

David nodded, and Bucky hoped that the first thing Summer would say upon waking up wasn't that she was going to kill him for letting her son eat garbage for breakfast. Then Natasha came back out, grabbed her keys from the counter, and asked if they were ready. Bucky nodded, and then then three of them headed to the elevator.

Once they were inside and the elevators doors closed, David shuffled closer to Bucky, away from Natasha, ever the boogy-woman, and Bucky felt a little hand sneak its way into his right one. He looked down at the boy, who still looked confused about all of this but was okay, at least for now, and he remembered that Summer always made David hold her hand whenever they left the floor, even if it was just the elevator. He was being a good boy, remembering Summer's rules in her absence.

Bucky gave his hand a tiny squeeze, smiling gently at David, and then cast his eyes back to the dwindling floor numbers above the doors.

So far, so good. He could only hope things would stay that way.

* * *

With Steve and Nat in the waiting room, Bucky found himself outside of Summer's room, David's hand securely clutched in his own. He hesitated for a moment, instinct telling him to try to prepare the boy for what he was about to walk in and see.

Standing there in the hallway, Bucky turned and knelt down in front of David, looking him in the eyes as he said, "Remember what I said about how she's hurt?" David nodded, and he went on, "She's going to look a little different. She has a... big... _bandaid_... on her head and one of her legs, and she's still sleeping. So... she looks different, but just remember that she's going to get better. Okay?"

He felt like he was trying to convince himself as much as he was David. The boy nodded, and Bucky gave him a tight smile before standing back up, taking his hand again, and opening the door.

Summer was still just as he had left her, drugged and asleep, her monitors beeping and displaying numbers in the normal ranges. By her side was Paul, sitting in the chair that Bucky had spent the entire night in, and as soon as his gaze fell on Bucky, he knew that the man still hated him just as much as he had an hour ago, when he had caused the cut on his bottom lip. But then Paul's gaze went to David, and both men were silent for a moment as David stared at his mother.

David only walked in a few inches before he stopped in his tracks and looked at Summer with wide brown eyes. Bucky felt the boy's grip on his hand tighten somewhat, and Bucky watched him carefully to gauge his reaction.

Before he could make sure that David was going to be okay, Paul cleared his throat slightly and smiled as he stood up from his chair. "Hey buddy."

Bucky glanced up at Paul as he walked closer, hand out like he expected David to leave Bucky for him. But David instantly recoiled, gripping Bucky's hand like a vice and hiding his whole body behind Bucky's. Paul's face fell, and then he looked up at Bucky with still-angry eyes.

"He should be with me," Paul said in a whisper, so that David wouldn't hear.

Before Bucky could say a word in defense of himself, a soft groaning sound from the center of the room made both men stop and look. Bucky's heart started thumping rapidly the minute that his eyes fell upon Summer, stirring slightly and just barely blinking her slightly open eyes. She was _finally_ waking up.

"Summer," he said, bypassing Paul and accidentally knocking into his shoulder to get past him, taking David with him. He hovered slightly over the bed, watching her struggle to open her eyes and turn her head. "Summer?"

David was trying to look, but his small stature made it difficult, so Bucky picked him up. When her eyes opened fully at last, they fell on the two of them first, and she stared for a long moment before a few hoarse words left her throat.

"... David," she said, barely above a whisper, and then she swallowed and said louder, "Bucky?"

Relief washed over him, and Bucky genuinely smiled for the first time since the accident. She remembered him. She had her memory. She was still _herself_.

"Yeah," he smiled, still afraid to touch her. "Yeah, we're here. Paul's here too."

She blinked slowly, one of her hands slowly rising up to touch her head where the gauze still was. She turned to look on her other side, where Paul was, and she croaked out, "Paul?"

"Yeah," her brother assured her, one of his hands covering hers. "I'm here."

Her face the picture of confusion and utter bewilderment, she then began to turn her eyes back towards Bucky, which was when she saw her right leg covered and elevated.

Bucky cringed as she stared at the leg, then felt her head again, realization dawning on her that something was very, very wrong.

Fear was as plain as the blue in her eyes when she looked at Bucky and asked in a small, shaky voice, "What the hell happened?"

* * *

Beeping was the first thing she heard when the fog in her brain began to clear enough to allow her to wake. It was a familiar sound and yet not, because it didn't make any sense. Nothing in her room beeped like that, so unless JARVIS was broken and in need of a reboot, something weird was going on.

The problem at that point was, however, that she could not actually open her eyes, and she felt _weird_.

It wasn't pain, not exactly. It was more like a bizarre sort of radiating numbness, like she _should_ have been in pain but wasn't. There was also another problem, which was that she couldn't exactly move. Everything felt too heavy, cumbersome, like she weighed a thousand pounds and needed a crane to raise her arm for her to get the irritating itch on her nose.

And the beeping wouldn't stop.

The sound of indistinct whispers was what she heard when she finally managed to crack open her eyes, which felt like little tiny anvils were sitting on top of to keep them closed. All she saw was a blinding light, way too bright to be sunlight or even the overhead light in her room, and her confusion grew exponentially.

That was also when she had heard her name spoken by a very familiar voice, and then Bucky was there, smiling at her with an expression full of relief that she didn't understand. Then David was there too, and most bizarrely of all, Paul, who should have been across the country in California. Right?

Had she not been under the influence of quite a few drugs, she would have been able to piece together where she was, and maybe even what had happened. But instead, when she saw her leg propped up and elevated and covered in white, and felt the bandages on her head, she knew nothing and had to ask with her voice that felt like it hadn't been used in a month.

"_What the hell happened_?"

Now able to hold her eyes open better, she watched Bucky's smile fade and something much darker and sadder take its place. Alarm bells went off in her head, and it took him a moment to reply quietly, "We went dancing last night. Steve and Natasha were with us. We were crossing the street and... some kid came speeding out of nowhere and..."

He trailed off, and he didn't have to finish the sentence. Suddenly she remembered; the images and the sounds and feelings came rushing back like a hammer to the center of her brain, or maybe that was the sudden deep, painful throb that she felt in her head. Either way, she could remember the crosswalk, the smile that had been on her face when she teased Bucky about walking her home, and then the split second's worth of horror she had seen on her face when the car was suddenly there, out of nowhere, unstoppable in its path directly to her. That was where her memory ended.

She turned her gaze from Bucky to her leg, and she began to realize that she had been _really_ injured. She tried to take a breath, and it hurt like _hell_.

"What... what all happened to me?" she asked nervously, and her gaze flickered to David, who was back to standing next to Bucky. David was watching her closely, and she could see him getting more and more uneasy the closer she got to panicking herself.

"Concussion," Bucky said. "Two broken ribs. And your leg... it's... it was pinned under the car. I pushed it off, but it's... it's bad."

She looked up at him with wide eyes, then again looked at David, who looked like he was one step away from becoming hysterical. She took another painful breath and tried to steady herself for David's sake, but she wasn't sure anything could stop the freaking out that was about to happen.

Before she could ask anymore questions, the door opened, and she saw an older male doctor walk in with a nurse behind him. "Oh good! You're back."

She stared at the doctor, taking small breaths because they hurt less, and she tried to ignore the jackhammer pounding in her head as the two people swept in and _her_ people moved aside for them.

"Okay," the doctor said, checking her monitors before turning back towards her at her left side, "Can you answer a few questions for me?" She nodded, and he asked, "What's your name?"

"Summer," she answered simply, before her brain caught up and she added, "McAdams."

"Good. What year is it?"

"2015," she replied.

"Very good. And who are they?" he asked, gesturing to Bucky and David.

"My son and my..."

It took her a moment to catch the word that Bucky subtly mouthed to her. Was he serious? Apparently he was.

"... Husband."

"Great," the doctor said. "Now that we've got that out of the way, I can give you a picture of what we're looking at injury-wise. You took quite the beating last night."

And then, Summer laid there in ever-increasing pain while listening to the doctor go into more detail about the same injuries that Bucky had listed to her. It was all rather straightforward until he got to her leg.

"Like I told your husband last night," he said, "with injuries like these, amputation isn't uncommon. It depends on the severity of the injury, obviously, and if we have a real chance to save the leg with surgery. It's something where we have to watch and run tests, but so far, I'm optimistic about our chances of saving it. We'll know for sure by tonight, but judging by your scans and last exam, I'd count on having surgery in a day or two."

Well, she supposed that was a relief, but at the same time... _holy crap_.

"Any questions?" the doctor asked.

She had about a hundred. "What kind of surgery?"

"An extensive one," he said. "Your knee is shattered, and that's just one thing we'll have to reconstruct. For the other fractures, best option is an intramedullary rod." He then used his hands as a measurement gesture as he explained, "That's a long metal rod that we'll put in the cavity of the bone. Helps you get back on your feet faster."

She raised her eyebrows and asked, "_Will_ I get back on my feet? Because..."

The doctor sighed, putting his hands in the pockets of his coat and replying, "Look, I won't sugarcoat it - it's a bad injury. Crush injuries are tough and they take time to recover from, but you _can_ recover. You'll probably have pain and arthritis down the road, but that can be managed. The important thing is, with treatment and physical therapy, you _will_ walk again. It won't be easy, but you will."

"... Will I dance again?" she asked, afraid of the answer.

"What kind of dancing are we talking about? If you're a ballerina, then probably not. But if you mean more regular dancing, then yeah. It won't be easy, like the walking, but treatment's come a long way since the days when an injury like this meant the end of regular activities."

She nodded, then glanced at Bucky, standing there holding David's hand and watching her carefully, and then she looked back to the doctor and asked, "How long until I'll walk again?"

"That's something that will depend on a lot of factors," he replied. "On average, though, I'd say that most patients your age start taking their first steps in about two months."

Her jaw dropped. "Just first steps? In two months?"

He nodded. "It's a process, Mrs. McAdams. But just try to take it one step at a time. Rest. Focus on healing. I'll keep you updated and let you know as soon as I do about the surgery. How's your pain?"

Mind racing through the pain and fog within it, she muttered, "Really painful."

The doc then gestured to the nurse, who promptly got to drugging Summer back up. "You've got enough drugs to knock out a horse at your disposal, so just let us know."

She nodded, wincing at the pain in her head and her chest and leg and _everywhere. _Getting hit by a car, it turned out, felt pretty much like it sounded like it sounded it would, which was like hell.

The doctor examined her then, and as he poked and prodded, she let her mind run wild with thoughts that did her no good in that moment. She couldn't do her job if she couldn't walk. She couldn't take care of her kid if she couldn't walk, or at least it would take time to figure out how to. Then, how long would she be here, in the hospital? Probably a long time, considering the extent of her injuries, and that left David in an odd state of limbo. She wouldn't be able to care for him. She'd need help. She'd need...

She looked over at Bucky, still watching her, misery etched on his face. David was holding his hand for dear life and watching her with such fear that it made her chest hurt even more than it already was. On her other side was Paul, whose presence still confounded her, and he was taking everything in with quietly angry and horrified eyes that would turn soft every time hers would catch them. She hadn't missed the fact that his right hand was wrapped up and Bucky's lip was cut. She must have missed World War 3 when she had been out.

After the drugs had started flooding her system again and the doctor and nurse took their leave, Summer blinked heavily and looked at Bucky and then Paul, asking, "How are you here?"

"I was in Cincinnati for a conference," he explained. "I was actually gonna come here and surprise you in a couple days. But instead I cut the trip short and drove here when he called me."

She then looked at his hand, then turned and looked at Bucky, and in a small voice, she closed her eyes and began, "I don't know what's going on with the two of you but whatever it is, _please_ let it go. I'm trying to wrap my head around this and I'm scared and I need help, I need both of you, and David needs everybody calm and -"

It must have been the drugs and waking up to a broken body that did it, because suddenly she was crying and she was a bit horrified at that, but suddenly both Bucky and her brother were on either side of her, doing their best to reassure her.

"Okay," Bucky said, touching her for the first time, covering the back of her hand with his. "Anything you need, Summer, I'm here."

"And me," Paul chimed in. "Don't worry about anything. Just... get better."

She wiped at her eyes, which were feeling heavier and heavier now that the drugs were _really_ kicking in, and she looked up at Bucky and asked, "Can you bring David over here?"

He nodded, and a moment later, David was leaning slightly on the side of the bed, and she shifted as much as she possibly could to turn his way, which wasn't much. He looked at her with that fearful, worried, confused look he'd had on his face since she first woke.

She reached her hand out to his face, cupping his cheek and saying softly, "I'm okay, sweetie. I'm gonna be fine. I'm just gonna be stuck in this bed for awhile so I can get better. But I will get better, okay? I promise."

She saw a fat little tear escape one of his big brown eyes, but he nodded, and she smiled, wishing that she could hug him but knowing that she couldn't.

Then, rather than bring her hand back to her side, she reached for Bucky's right hand and caught it as she looked up at him, forcing her eyelids to stay open. "Take care of him for me, Bucky. Promise me you will."

He nodded, squeezing her hand back and leaning down, close enough to kiss her forehead. "I will. I promise. I'm so sorry."

He pulled away, and she looked up at him in confusion. "For what?"

"This was my fault," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "I'm sorry." She furrowed her brows and blinked at him as he looked at her in pure despair and repeated, "I'm sorry."

"But... the driver did this, not you," she said, fighting the pull of sleep so that she could try to understand how in the world he was trying to turn this on himself. "How could this be your fault?" When he didn't answer her, a thought crossed her mind and she asked with a slight slur, "Did they catch the driver?"

Something crossed his face then, something dark and... shameful, maybe? "He's... in a coma."

She stared at him for a moment, at the way that his face was now torn between what looked like anger and disgust, and even in her current drug-addled state, she could tell that something was wrong. "Bucky, what did you do?"

He shook his head just slightly and said, "Don't worry about that now. You need to rest."

She would have protested, but she felt like she hadn't slept in months and could barely keep her eyes open. She did manage to find the strength to turn back to Paul, however, blindly reaching for him and saying once he grabbed her hand, "Thank you for being here. I love you."

He blinked suddenly moist eyes and said, "I love you too, kid."

"Be nice to Bucky," she said, closing her eyes. "Don't hit him again."

"... I'll do my best."

"Help him with David if he needs it," she added, head drooping and sleep overtaking her even as she kept talking. "But I want David with him. David's closest with him and he... "

She trailed off, then jerked awake briefly just long enough to turn to Bucky and slur his name.

"Yeah?"

"How come they think we're married?" she asked, eyes still closed and head drooping again.

"They wouldn't have let me stay if I hadn't said we were," Bucky replied softly, his voice comforting and sweet, pushing her even closer towards the arms of sleep.

"Oh," she breathed, speaking words that she wouldn't remember the next day. "Okay. I thought for a minute that we got married while I was out and that would have sucked and been... weird."

She didn't see the sad little smile that Bucky gave her as he continued to hold her hand, nor did she see the smile fade slightly when she added, "Especially since when we do get married someday I want to _walk_ down the aisle."

Unbeknownst to her, his breathing froze for just a moment, his gaze intent on her closed eyes as her words sunk in and clicked in his brain. His eyes, already soft, widened by the tiniest fraction, and his mouth just barely opened as her grip on his hand fell limp.

Then she finally drifted off to sleep fully, brain shutting down and body relaxing under the onslaught of drugs that spared her of the pain while they lasted. She rested oblivious to the world, surrounded by the three most important men in her life, feeling safe there despite the terrifying ordeal the night before and despite the uncertain future awaiting her now.

There was a long and difficult road ahead of her now, but there was only one way to get down that road, and that was one step at a time - whether both of her legs worked or not. And the very first step, it turned out, was to sleep in the safety of the care of those that she trusted.

**A/N: Posting this a day earlier than usual because, in the immortal and eloquent words of Peter Quill, I may be an A-hole, but I'm not 100% a dick, and after last week's cliffhanger, the least I could do was update a bit early lol. But hey, see, things aren't TOO bad, right? Right? *crickets chirping* ... Sorry about all of this lol. But hey, it's life (like in the story title! :p). Things happen. Also, let me assure any of you wondering that I am _not_ going to drag out the misery here longer than necessary. I've done that before and it wasn't fun lol. My main thing is wanting to keep Summer's recovery realistic, so I've been doing a lot of reading about injuries similar to hers. I have exactly zilch formal medical knowledge, so I'm just going off of what I've read, so if anybody has personal knowledge or experience about these injuries and notice something off, please do tell me so I can fix it. But yeah... this is all a very necessary part of the story, and I am very confident that you'll all be happy with the end result. **

**Speaking of end results: I had been planning up until now to end this story around 35 chapters, but I have decided to heck with that because honestly it doesn't make sense to end this and then post a series of follow up oneshots. There's too much story left to tell after the point at which I was going to end it, so I'm just gonna let it go on indefinitely. I know I don't have the greatest track record with actually finishing monster stories *sweats nervously*, BUT this one is happening. I have far too many things planned that I'm dying to write. So anyway, my point is, we're gonna be here awhile! Lol :) I hope you'll all keep reading and enjoying reading as much I enjoy writing and plotting it with midniightwings96 (who is as always extremely helpful, like beyond helpful, and whom I thank for helping tweak this chapter, and, well, just about every chapter lol :D). I value and look forward to your feedback each week, even when it's yelling at me for leaving you all on an evil cliffhanger. Keep sticking with me! I've also got more side stuff coming, like the Steve/Nat piece I posted earlier this week. Next related oneshot will be probably in the next two weeks or so and a nice light &amp; humorous (and other _things_) contrast to this current angsty period, since I don't want to overdose you all on angst lol. **

**Anyway, I love you all, and again, thank you so much for reading and putting up with me :D See you all next Monday!**


	28. Chapter 28

In the five days that had passed since the accident, the copious amounts of drugs that Summer was on had made her have dreams that were utterly bizarre, to say the least. She didn't dream of the accident or pain or idiot teenage drivers, but instead dreamed that she was a butcher chopping up steaks, an actress about to accept an Oscar for her riveting performance in a film co-starring Steve Buscemi of all people, and last but not least, she had dreamed the night after her leg surgery that she and Bucky had traded bodies. Which had gotten interesting (and even more bizarre) very quickly.

So, as a result, when she slowly woke up one morning hearing the sounds of a Mario Bros theme song being played in piano form, she assumed that she was dreaming of being serenaded at some classy piano bar by some musician who decided to randomly treat the patrons to Nintendo theme songs. However, when she began to slowly open her eyes and come to full consciousness, she realized that it was no dream, and somebody was actually playing a distinct Mario theme on a piano.

Blinking sleepily, she turned her head towards the sound, only to be met by a dull pain in her neck. She winced a little and tried to shift to ease the pain, but she couldn't move anything these days without causing some kind of pain somewhere, so she gritted her teeth and tried her best to ignore it as she looked across the hospital room to the two nearly-permanent fixtures in it.

David was sitting there next to Bucky, tablet on his lap and piano app open, both of his little hands tapping on the digital keys. Bucky was oblivious to this, busy typing something on his phone with his right hand, and Summer didn't say a word as she listened with increasing surprise. He was _really_ playing the song. It was no drug-induced hallucination or random dream. Had he seriously taught himself the song in the last five days? And if so, _how_?

"David?" she croaked out, voice sounding hoarse from sleep and odd from the drugs.

As soon as he heard her, David's fingers stopped their movements, and he closed the app as if he had been caught doing something bad. He then looked up at her sheepishly, and she chuckled, "Hey, why did you stop? That was really good! How did you learn that?"

She got no answer, of course, just a smile that David tried to hide and Bucky putting his phone away as he got up and walked over to her bed.

She had been moved after her surgery to a private room on the seventh floor, and as she healed, a routine was forming. Bucky would bring David by in the morning and they would spend most of the day there, aside from when he'd take him to grab meals or snacks, and they'd while the day away with talking, movies, games that she could play from her bed, whatever she could think of to keep them both from dying of boredom. Well, David mostly. Her main concern with Bucky was keeping the perpetual frown off of his face.

"Morning," he said quietly, leaning down over her and kissing her forehead. She closed her eyes and tried not to sigh at how he smelled, which was like his soap back at home and coffee and just _him_, which was so much better than how the hospital smelled, and by extension, how she thought she smelled. Whenever she finally got home, she would take the world's longest bath to get rid of the disinfectant smell that was seeped into her pores.

"Hi," she replied with a smile as he pulled away, his hand holding hers as he gently mirrored her smile.

"How do you feel?" he asked like he asked each morning, and she gave him the same answer that she had given him each time.

"... I've felt better," she replied, watching his eyes flicker to her leg. It was in a brace now, and it was kept elevated at pretty much all times. The surgery had been fairly straightforward, no complications, though there was the chance that she would need more in the future to fully repair the damage. She had made a joke to Bucky while in the haze of fully coming out of anesthesia that now they matched, since one of her legs was partially metal, but he hadn't found it particularly funny.

She hated how much he blamed himself. It was written on his face, and nothing she said seemed to help in the slightest. In fact, the more that she assured him that he wasn't even remotely responsible for the accident, the more he seemed to utterly loathe himself.

She hated that even more because he had _just_ started to feel somewhat good about himself again, and now it had all been wracked.

"David sleep good last night?" she asked, drawing his attention away from her leg with the question.

He nodded. "Yeah."

"Did you?" she asked more quietly.

He glanced down at their still-entwined hands, "I'm fine, Summer."

But he wasn't, and she could tell. He was functioning well and taking beautiful care of David - which made her love him immeasurably more - but there was something beyond his blaming of himself for her injuries that was causing the frowns and the darkness lingering behind his eyes. He wouldn't tell her what it was, and neither would Steve or Natasha, but she wasn't stupid.

She knew Bucky quite well by now, and the fact that the kid who hit her was in a coma seemed to be a clue as to his current state. Bucky had told her the very day of the accident that he would kill for her, and she had seen firsthand evidence of this. He had killed the HYDRA agents who had threatened herself and David the year before, and he had beaten Mark to an utter pulp just for showing up at her door. She could only imagine what he had done to the kid who had hit her and crushed her leg with his car and then tried to flee the scene.

She just wished that he'd tell her and stop acting like she was too frail to hear anything mildly upsetting at a time like this. There was a lot on her mind, yes, and waking up to the current state of her body had been a jarring and terrifying shock, but she was dealing with it. And it would have been easier to do so had she not been preoccupied with fretting over why he was hiding his own issues from her.

"I brought you food," Bucky said, gesturing vaguely behind him. "They still won't let me give you coffee though."

She nodded. "That's okay." He had been bringing her breakfast from the tower each morning, sparing her the horror of what was hospital cafeteria scrambled eggs. Some things were okay to eat in hospitals, but breakfast was just not one of them. She then smiled and said, "Thank you. You probably won't have to do this much longer."

He looked confused as he asked, "Why?"

"Well," she sighed, "I keep waiting for them to figure out that I don't have insurance and bounce me out of here. I don't even understand how the surgery happened. Any minute they're gonna figure it out and I'm gonna be in debt all the way to my grave."

Before Bucky could reply, there was a knock at her door, and they both looked towards it as it slowly opened. She expected Paul or Steve. Instead, a different familiar face hidden under yellow-hued sunglasses and a black hoodie slowly poked its way around the corner, took one look at them, and then disappeared as the man's voice said, "Yeah, Pep, this is her."

She was caught between laughing at Tony's disguise (none of these Avengers knew how to look non-suspicious, in her opinion, aside from Natasha who was a chameleon) and being stunned that a world-famous billionaire was apparently visiting her in the hospital. Pepper, being her boss, made sense though, and hers was the next face she saw as the woman glanced inside before stepping in with a look of pure concern on her face.

"Oh my gosh, I am so sorry it took me this long to visit," Pepper said apologetically as Tony trailed in behind her. She was dressed in one of her usual smart corporate boss-lady suits, but Tony looked like a post-grunge reject behind her. It was distracting. "Things have been so hectic and every time I had time to come it was either so late or you were in surgery - how _are_ you?"

Slightly overwhelmed by the unexpected visit, Summer opened her mouth to reply only for Pepper to ask, "Did you get my flowers, at least? I sent them as soon as I heard what happened."

Summer nodded and pointed to the window ledge across the room, where several giant flower arrangements sat. Pepper's were there, as was one from Sam and Darcy that they had brought on their first visit, but the one from Steve and Natasha was the very biggest. It was the single most ridiculous flower arrangement she had ever seen, and Steve had refused to tell her how much it had cost him.

"Yep. I got them right after I woke up from the surgery," she smiled. "And then I started crying because of all the drugs and because people care enough to actually send me flowers."

Pepper sighed, now at her side while Tony stood next to her, and Summer didn't miss the cool but at least cordial nod he shot Bucky's way. It was more than what he would have gotten a few months ago. "I was so shocked when I heard. How are you? I heard that your prognosis is good."

She shrugged as best she could with broken ribs and general all-over soreness. "Yeah. The surgery on my leg went well, so I'm obviously getting to _keep_ my leg, which is good. Just have to heal enough to start physical therapy." _Not that I'll have a way to pay for it_, she muttered inside of her head. She should have signed up for insurance at work when she had the chance, but the extra couple hundred out of each paycheck to add herself to coverage she did have for David had seemed way too steep at the time.

"Good, good," Pepper nodded, briefly touching her shoulder comfortingly. "I have a cousin who was in a car accident about ten years ago. It wasn't quite the same but her leg was broken in three places and she had to have surgery and therapy too, but she was back on her feet before her doctors had predicted. They said her attitude might have made the difference."

"Really?" Summer asked hopefully.

Pepper nodded. "Yeah. And you're young and healthy... you'll make it through this."

Summer couldn't help but smile. Across the room, she could hear David playing on his piano app again as she asked, "Well, thank you. Though I guess you're gonna have to have me replaced."

"Well," Pepper said, "we might hire a temp to fill in for you for now, or maybe move someone from another department, but you won't be terminated. Your job will be waiting for you when you're back on your feet."

As nice as that sounded, Summer knew that that could mean a year from now. And the thought of a year with no income made her burgeoning panic quadruple. Still, she smiled anyway and replied, "Thank you. I really appreciate that."

"Of course," Pepper smiled. "Oh, and it's a good thing that you signed up for coverage a few days before the accident."

Summer stared at the woman in confusion. Then Tony leaned forward, slid his glasses down his nose, and winked at her. Her eyes widened a little bit as they darted between the two people, "But... I didn't..."

Tony rolled his eyes. "Was the wink not obvious enough?"

"You signed up just in time for all of this and your physical therapy to be covered," Pepper said. Then she smiled and added, "Luckily."

"... Are you telling me that you guys committed insurance fraud for me because I haven't even had breakfast yet and I might cry now for an hour."

To her surprise, they both laughed at her words, and Tony merely shrugged as he said, "_Fraud_ is so strong of a word. Let's just call it... a discretionary adjustment."

Summer laughed and it felt like fire against her ribs, but she couldn't help it. "Oh my God. I could kiss you both right now."

"Then you'd have to kiss Darcy too," Tony remarked, and at Summer's confused look, he elaborated, "When you were having your surgery, she was hanging out in the tower and made an offhand comment on how at least you have good insurance, working for Stark Industries."

"So I double checked to make sure that you actually did have insurance," Pepper added. "And when I saw that you had it for your son but not yourself..."

Tears of gratitude stinging her eyes, Summer leaned back in the bed and let out a deep breath. "I don't even know what to say. Thank you. I mean, I _thought_ it was weird that they gave me this nice room instead of kicking me out and telling me good luck." Then she looked at them and asked slightly more quietly, "Why, though? You can't do this for all your employees."

Tony beat Pepper to the punch and said, "Believe it or not, we all actually like you, McDonald's. It's been unnervingly quiet with you gone. And besides, I can be basically Santa Claus when I feel like it. There's a kid in Tennessee who'll back me up on this."

She chuckled, and it still hurt her ribs, but she would endure. "Well, thank you. I owe you guys now. A lot."

Before they could assure her that she did not, there was another knock on the door, and then Steve and Natasha were there too. They dropped by just about every day, and as the numbers in the room continued to grow, Summer found it to be a wonderful distraction from the pain of her injuries and the maddening frustration of being stuck in bed. Bucky and David ended up closest to her, in two chairs next to each other at her side, and she ate the breakfast he had brought her while he lightly held her hand and she let chatting with everybody take her mind off of everything.

Hearing the story of her accident and everything that had followed it had been nothing short of surreal, and Natasha had filled her in on all of the details the day after it had happened (aside from what had happened with the driver, which even she had been cryptic about). From Steve lying to paramedics about being her fiancé and Natasha being the one to get Bucky to pull himself together enough to go and take care of David, it had all left her stunned to know now beyond the shadow of even her most stubborn doubts that she really was surrounded by people who cared about her. She thought that now she might have understood how Bucky had felt on his birthday, how stunned he was that everybody cared enough to stand in a circle and sing _Happy Birthday_ to him. It was quite a thing to get used to after having next to nobody for a very long time.

In the course of the next half an hour, she had eaten, had Bucky help haul her to the bathroom to help her with things that she was pretty sure meant the official death of romance in their relationship (hopefully not, but _still_), and then had fresh doses of wonderfully helpful pain medicine after settling comfortably back in bed when there was _another_ knock at the door.

Thinking it _had_ to be Paul this time, she was again proven wrong and felt her jaw drop at the sight of a glorious blonde head instead.

"What has happened?" Thor asked, strolling in the room in dark jeans and a black v-neck t-shirt, like he was a model from Earth rather than Asgardian royalty, and his hair tied loosely back behind his head. He looked confused and troubled, then fearful when he saw Summer there in her bed. "Lady Summer! What terrible thing has happened in my absence?"

Being on the aforementioned drugs, she had no shame in gaping at him like a fish and only getting out a half-coherent "Umm..."

"When did you get back to this neck of the woods? Or branch of the tree or whatever?" Tony asked, now leaning against a wall with his glasses off but hood still on.

"Just today," he answered, still staring at Summer. "Can she hear me? Has her mind been damaged?"

She giggled and it didn't even hurt this time because _drugs, man_. "No, I'm fine! Well, _I'm_ not fine, but my head is fine. I did get a giant concussion but it's getting better, so the main problem is my stupid leg here."

"What happened?" he asked, still confused and staring at her leg and the brace on it like it was something from positively prehistoric times.

"Car hit me while I was crossing the street," she replied matter-of-factly. "I bet this doesn't happen on Asgard. What do you use on Asgard? Horses?"

"... Yes," Thor replied hesitantly. "You are in very good spirits despite your injuries."

She then pointed to the IV in her arm and smiled, "I'm on so many drugs right now. And I just found out I have insurance, so I'm actually in a pretty good mood, and you look like a GQ model and it's really distracting and I'm gonna shut up."

"Mother of God," Tony said with wide eyes. "She's even better when she's under the influence."

"You should hear her singing Disney songs drunk," Natasha remarked.

"That was only one time!" Summer protested.

In the midst of this, Steve's expression grew confused and he turned to Thor and asked, "If you just got back to Earth today and we're all here, who drove you to the hospital?"

Just as Thor began to reply, the question got its answer in the form of Clint suddenly appearing out of seemingly nowhere - to Summer, anyway - and staring at her much like Thor had when he first walked in, asking, "What the hell happened to you, kid?"

She choked on a sip of water that she had been drinking, having not even heard the door open this time, and after forcing herself not to cough, she half-exclaimed, "Clint! Holy crap!"

He raised his eyebrows to her and glanced around at everybody, then said, "I heard something happened but nobody told me it was _this_ bad."

"... You came all the way from the farm to visit me?" she asked in disbelief.

Clint glanced at her and then at Bucky and Natasha as he said, "She's doing that thing where she acts shocked that we don't all secretly hate her, isn't she."

"I can't help it!" she said, then she groaned and covered her eyes with her palms as she muttered, "Oh man, I'm gonna cry again. Dammit. This is so embarrassing. Yup, I'm bawling."

Bucky helpfully passed her some tissues when the waterworks started, and she tried not to be too humiliated over uncontrollably ugly-crying under the influence of drugs and of being slightly overwhelmed with the presence of, in her opinion, some of the most remarkable people who had ever existed. And they were there to see _her_.

It made it all the more hilarious when Paul finally made it there himself. He opened the door, walked into the room armed with a few movies and a bag of stuff from the store that she had requested, and then stopped short as he stared at the seven people currently there to visit his sister. Only six of which were actually human and all of which were kind of superheroes, minus Pepper, though an argument could have been made that she still basically counted.

They all briefly fell silent upon his arrival, and Summer gave him a giant smile with still-teary eyes and exclaimed, "Look! I have assembled the Avengers! Except for the Hulk who wouldn't fit in here anyway!"

"She still hasn't met Bruce, has she?" Tony asked nobody in particular. When Nat shook her head, he said, "Bastard's still taking the world's longest vacation in Fiji."

Paul stared at her, then at the others, and eventually he replied, "This is my payback for always saying my friends were cooler than yours when we were kids, isn't it?"

"It _so_ is! In your _face_!"

Not only were her friends the coolest in existence, but they were going a long way in helping a _very_ crappy situation feel a lot less crappy. So was the man sitting next to her, who was quiet throughout it all but ever-present, attentive and the first to jump at the chance when she needed help.

She didn't think twice when Bucky kissed her cheek gently and told her that he would be back shortly. She nodded, and with her brother there now to help keep an eye on David, she watched as he left the room. She might have been high as a kite and teetering on the edge of a nap already because of it, but she noticed that Clint also slipped out of the room relatively soon after, and she was glad for it. She wasn't the only one who needed extra support these days.

* * *

He'd been fine until Paul had showed up. Before that, it had felt like it used to in the tower when everybody was together and talking, making jokes and getting a kick out of Summer and her issues with her filter, albeit with a much sadder undertone. He was glad that she had all of them, and that they were all looking out for her. She deserved it all and so much more.

The issue was the instant discomfort that he felt now when Paul was in the room. They had been civil with one another ever since Summer had asked them to be, but Bucky hadn't forgotten the other man's words, and he knew he wasn't misinterpreting the looks of contempt that Paul would sometimes shoot him.

He didn't blame the guy. He still agreed with everything he'd said. But it didn't make being in the same room with him any easier.

So, he took a walk. There was a chance he'd feel better upon coming back, and while he was gone, he'd grab a cup of coffee and drink it all before he got back, so he didn't torture Summer with the smell of it.

The new routine wasn't terrible. It had been strange at first, having David stuck to his side all day long and then figuring out how to get him to go to bed on time at night, plus feeding him in between all of that and making sure he had everything he needed. The first two days or so, he had panicked more than once and considered begging somebody more qualified to take over, but for Summer's sake, he hadn't, and he was glad he hadn't. He felt much more comfortable with it now, and David wasn't much of a burden. In fact, he was a welcome distraction from the dark and irrational thoughts still swimming through his head.

Both he and David thrived on routine, and since their days had already been closely linked before, the transition hadn't been too dramatic of a thing. The hardest parts were the nights, though, since David never wanted to leave Summer to go home, and Bucky could sympathize. Everything would be better once Summer could come home and he could care for her there.

In the meantime, however, he tried to stay busy and not think about the kid in the coma, or how long Summer's recovery might be, or how Paul made him feel strangely like an intruder in Summer's life when he looked at him like he had little to no right to be caring for his nephew. He reminded himself of what Steve had said before, that Paul was simply still dealing with what had happened and was understandably angry and looking for something or someone to blame such a senseless accident on, but it really made no difference when Bucky was doing the very same thing and ending up meeting the very same conclusion.

He finished a cup of barely-passable coffee from the waiting room in two drinks and then dropped the cup into a trash can between two rows of chairs, then heard a voice behind him say, "You know they serve better stuff in the cafeteria."

Bucky turned around to see Clint standing there, hands in the pockets of his jacket. Bucky shrugged and said, "Probably tastes like dirt too."

"Probably. Get too loud in there for you?" Clint asked, falling into step beside him as he started slowly walking out of the waiting room.

"No. Just... needed a minute."

Clint nodded. "I'd ask how you've been but I think you might punch me in the face if I did."

He chuckled fleetingly. "Everything was actually pretty good until... this."

They continued walking, and Clint said, "You know there's no logical way you can possibly blame yourself for her getting hit in a crosswalk, right?"

Bucky didn't say anything, eyes cast forward with a slight faraway look to them.

"I mean, if you're twisting what happened in your head _that_ much and actually making yourself believe it, you're in the wrong line of work. You should be an acrobat." He paused. "Or a defense attorney."

Bucky shrugged. "I always knew she'd end up getting hurt eventually. Just figured it would be HYDRA or somebody, not a stupid kid with a car."

"See, _that_, I could see why you'd blame yourself. But this? Come on, man."

"Her brother seems to agree with me," Bucky replied.

"I'm sure he's real objective," Clint said dryly. "Bet you haven't talked to the Doc about all this yet either."

Knowing he was referring to the therapist they both saw, Bucky shrugged again. "Nope." He shook his head and muttered, "He'd just suggest a new hobby and tell me to sleep more."

Clint chuckled. "He does harp on the hobby thing. Last thing he tried to sell me on was music. I bought a piano and anything. Didn't work out though. If you know anybody who wants to buy one, let me know."

Bucky nodded absently, only half hearing him because the hobby that the doc had suggested a long time ago and had actually helped - dancing - was unquestionably off the table. He wouldn't dance with anyone who wasn't Summer, and beyond that, he wouldn't dance until she was recovered enough to dance herself.

"It's real nice. Little antique thing. Probably made back in your day. You play?"

"What?" Bucky asked, snapping out of his thoughts.

"Piano," Clint replied. "Do you play?"

He shook his head to the negative at first, but then he remembered something that he had read in one of the stacks of letters that had come with the box that was Steve's birthday present to him. It had been a letter from his mother mentioning how she had visited her mother's home while he was away at war and had played on the piano that she had taught him on as a boy, and how it had made her incredibly sad but also brought back memories of happier days. She'd said how she couldn't wait for him to come back home for good and play for her again, regardless of how mediocre of a player he insisted that he was.

"I think I used to," he said quietly. "Probably not that well though. And I doubt I'd remember how to."

"You sure, because I'd give you a discount. I'm really sick of it being in my way at home."

"I... yeah, I'm sure," Bucky shrugged. "I wouldn't have anywhere to put it anyway."

"It's pretty small," Clint said. "And the rooms in the tower are pretty big." When Bucky didn't respond, Clint said, "Well, let me know if you change your mind. You _do_ need a new hobby now. And self loathing doesn't count as one."

"Says who?" Bucky deadpanned. Clint chuckled through his nose, not knowing that those two words were the first semi-humorous ones Bucky had said in days. After a pause, he asked, "How long you in town?"

"Not sure," Clint replied. "Probably not long. Just wanted to make sure everybody was okay."

Bucky nodded. "I could tell it meant a lot to her."

"I said everybody," Clint clarified as they came to a stop outside of Summer's room. "That includes you. You're not alone, you know."

Bucky nodded, unsure of what to say. Eventually he settled on a simple muttered, "Thanks."

If he got half the support from his own mind and heart that he got from the friends that he was somehow lucky enough to have now, he wondered just how much better he would feel. Maybe one day, he'd have an answer to that question.

* * *

Eventually, the Avengers disassembled from Summer's room, leaving her alone with Paul and David after a very short nap, and she was once again being treated to the sounds of David's inexplicably good piano-app playing.

"Can you believe this?" she whispered to Paul, sitting in the seat that was usually occupied by Bucky. "How is he doing this?"

"I don't know," Paul admitted. "But when I was in med school I read about autistic kids who picked up stuff like this out of nowhere."

"I have too," she replied, "but _wow_. He taught himself how to play a Mario song on a freaking piano app. I wonder how long it took him to figure it out."

"If I was the one watching him, I'd be able to tell you that."

Mood instantly soured by that one single comment, Summer looked at her brother pointedly. "If you start this crap again, Paul, I swear..."

"Sorry," he muttered, "I'm not trying to be a dick, I'm just..."

"... Being a dick?" she guessed. "This is why Bucky's taking the world's longest walk. I wouldn't want to be around you either if you were looking at me like I was the one who personally ran over your sister."

Paul sighed. "Summer..."

"No, you know what?" She sat up more in the bed, wincing at how hard it was but managing before going on, "This is ridiculous. He had nothing to do with what happened to me and he is taking perfect care of David right now. You should be grateful that I'm with someone who's willing to take care of my kid and bend over backwards to help me right now. He actually loves me and if you knew him you'd _see_ how this is ripping him up inside."

"You know what I know?" Paul replied. "I know that since the moment you met him, bad things have happened to you. You lost your house, you and David could have died in that attack on the tower, and now _this_ happened, and..."

"And what?" she asked. "Didn't bad things happen to me before? Or was Grandma dying and Mark his fault even back then too, before I even knew him?"

"That's not what I'm saying."

"I know what you're saying," she said. "I'm telling you why you're wrong. You only see the bad things because you're never here to see the good things. You don't see how he treats me or how he dances with me. Danced with me," she amended quietly. "Or how he respects me and takes care of me. You don't see it because you're not there and he is."

Paul's face fell a little bit. "Summer -"

"I don't want to sound like a jerk," she said, suddenly fighting tears again, "but you've been gone for so long. I see you for a week or two here and there but that's it. Like right now you're here, but you'll probably have to leave in, what, two or three days."

"... Three," he muttered.

"Three days," she said. "But he'll be here when you're gone, and while you're off in your own world thinking how he's just the worst and the cause of all these awful things, I'll be here learning how to walk again and that'll suck but I'll be _happy_ because I'll have him. And I won't be able to share that with you because now I know you hate him."

"I don't _hate_ him -"

"Really?" she asked incredulously. "Because he sure thinks you do and I don't blame him. And by the way, I'm still pissed at you for trying to beat him up when I was knocked out. I get that you were in shock but it was a real dick move when he was already feeling like the scum of the earth."

"I know, I know, Steve already said all the same stuff," Paul sighed.

"He did? When?"

"Right after I hit him," Paul said. "He went to get David, and Steve - it still feels weird calling him that - stayed behind and talked to me, told me the whole story."

She narrowed her eyes. "And you're _still_ being a jerk?"

He sighed again, and while for a moment he looked like he was formulating a defense of himself, he eventually paused and looked at her with a purely sad expression and asked, "Do you really feel like I... abandoned you or something?"

She let out a breath and dropped her head against the bed. "No. I mean, I used to. But I know why you went away to college in California and why you stayed there. I didn't for awhile, but..."

"You never told me any of this," he replied, somewhat dumbfounded.

She shook her head. "Because I knew it was stupid to feel that way. It's just that when you left, Mark happened, Grandma got sick, I got... hurt. And pregnant. And I felt alone and just..."

Paul briefly dropped his head into his hands and muttered, "I never should have left."

"Oh stop," she replied quickly. "You had a freaking scholarship to a top school in California. Then got that internship at one of the best hospitals in the whole country, and what was I supposed to say? 'Drop all of that and come back home because I'm whiny'?"

"Maybe," Paul replied.

"No," she shook her head. "That's stupid. And you found Sarah there and everything. You did the right thing. The only point I was trying to make was that you're _not_ here. You don't know Bucky. And when you're a jerk to him or make snide little comments about things you know nothing about, it makes me want to kick your ass so hard your freckles fall off."

He stared at her for a moment, seemingly unable to come up with a response, and she found his silence rather satisfying. Normally they'd just bicker until they both got sick of it and dropped it, so genuinely telling him off was a rare occurrence.

"I'm sorry," he finally said. "I just... you're right, I don't know him, and maybe that's why I can't trust him. Well, that and the fact that he's the Winter Soldier and killed a ton of people over like seven decades, but..."

"See, you're gonna piss me off again," she said, raising her hand and dropping it for emphasis. "And I thought we were past this."

"... I'm not really sure that it's something I'll ever exactly get past, regardless of how nice he seems now."

"Then you know what?" She jerked her thumb to the right and said, "There's the door. Feel free to use it."

Paul stared at her like she was crazy, and also like she had just punched him the gut. "_What_?"

"You heard me."

"Are you serious?"

"Yes!" she half-exclaimed. "Because once again, you have _no idea_ what you're talking about. You have no idea what he went through, what they did to him. I do because he's told me and I've seen it." At Paul's instant confusion, she clarified, "I saw a video. And it was..." She choked up immediately, clamping her mouth shut because the mere thought of that video made her heart ache and images flash in her mind that she desperately wanted to forget.

Finally, she settled on merely saying, "He's _innocent_, Paul."

"I know," he said quietly. "I've known that from the beginning and Steve said all of that too."

"Then you should listen to us," she replied. "And if you won't, then leave me alone because you're stressing me out and I've got enough to be stressed about without you adding to it."

Feeling immeasurably better with all of _that_ off of her chest now, Summer turned away from Paul and focused instead on David, who had been listening quietly the whole time while still playing contentedly on the tablet. A few moments went by where nobody said anything, and she was halfway to falling asleep again when Paul finally spoke.

"I'm a douche. I'm sorry."

Blinking back the sudden sleepiness, she turned her head back towards him and looked at him for a minute before replying, "Yeah, but I do know why you've been a douche. And I'm not the one you need to apologize to."

"You're gonna make me talk to him, aren't you?"

She nodded. "Yup. You'll be off my poop list once you've apologized and accepted the fact that we're a package deal and that I'll punt you back to California if you're evil to him."

Paul leaned back in his chair and said, "Understood." Then he added, "Package deal, huh?"

She nodded. "Pretty much."

"No wonder you made that comment about getting married the other night."

Her eyes widened and she looked at him in sudden panic. "I said _what_?"

"Yeah. Don't you remember? It was the first time you woke up after the accident and you asked him why the doctor thought you were married. Then you said how you wanted to be able to actually walk down the aisle when you married him someday."

She remembered none of this. An embarrassed blush rose up on her face as she rolled her eyes at herself and sunk into the bed like she wanted it to swallow her up. "Oh my _God_. What did he say?!"

"Nothing," Paul replied. "You fell asleep right after you said it. He looked shocked, though."

"Good way or bad way?!"

Paul rolled his eyes. "Good. _Duh_."

"... Ugh. Why do I do these things," she muttered, running her hands over her face. "Next you're gonna tell me how I begged him to let me have his babies."

"Yeah, that happened the next time you woke up."

She gaped at him in utter horror.

He simply started laughing and said, "Kidding!"

She grabbed her spare pillow and threw it at him as hard as she possibly could, which was not very hard. "Stop being a dick, Paul! I'm gonna kill you!"

As serious as she was, in no time the siblings were giggling together, and deep down, she knew that Paul would come around. None of them had seen the accident coming and he had reacted the way that any overly protective brother would have, and whether it was right or wrong, it simply was what it was. She had faith that now that she had put her proverbial foot down, he and Bucky would eventually return to the peace that they had been at before this had happened.

She ended up asleep after a fresh dose of meds before Bucky came back to her room, and she missed the quiet conversation that the two men had.

* * *

When Bucky came back bearing lunch for David and saw that Summer was asleep, he glanced at Paul and instantly started to worry somewhat irrationally about what the next hour or so would be like if he didn't leave. Since it didn't seem like Paul would be going anywhere, he took the seat next to David, near the window of the room, and stayed silent as Paul mostly ignored him.

Summer, who had never been one for naps, now took at least three a day, thanks to the narcotics she was swimming in. He knew she didn't like the effects but whenever she'd wonder out loud about whether she should start cutting down on the drugs, he would insist she keep taking them. She'd have to switch to less effective oral drugs once she was home anyway, and he just wanted her in as little pain as possible. If it meant enduring hour-long silences with her brother, then he'd deal with it.

Which made his surprise all the more pronounced when Paul got out of the chair, moved it next to him, and then sat back down. Bucky turned and looked at him briefly in confusion, and then looked away just before Paul finally spoke.

"So. I've been a douche."

Bucky blinked, then looked at the other man again. Paul glanced at him and then looked down at his hands in his lap, clearly slightly uncomfortable with the conversation.

"I'm sorry for freaking out and and punching you. And for giving you the stink-eye ever since. And being a jerk about you taking care of David."

Bucky stared in surprise for a moment before muttering, "... You don't have to apologize. I understand why -"

"Oh yes I do," Paul interrupted. "She absolutely told me off before she fell asleep, in a way that I don't think she ever even has before. Actually totally reminded me of our grandma. But anyway... yeah. She said some things and made me realize some stuff I hadn't before. Now I feel like a total scumbag creeper idiot."

"You were angry and... shocked," Bucky shrugged. "So was I."

"Yeah, but... no excuse," he replied. "But as she pointed out while you were gone... I'm not here, and I don't know you, so I need to believe her and trust her instead of being a douche and blaming everything on you. It's just... it's hard, because I _just_ realized why I think I reacted like that."

Bucky didn't say anything, instead sitting there and quietly watching as Paul took a breath and shifted in his seat, gathering his words. "Has she ever told you about how our parents died?"

"... Car accident," Bucky replied.

"Yeah, but did she tell you the story?" Paul asked, and Bucky shook his head. "Okay, so... our dad was a doctor. That's mostly why I'm one too. But anyway, he was a doctor and our mom was a nurse. That's how they met. You should have her tell you the whole story one day, because they were some real rebels back then. Jewish girl marrying an Irish-Catholic guy in a small town - gave my grandma a heart attack," he chuckled. "But obviously she came around, and they were older when they had us. My mom was like 46 when Summer was born. Total surprise. I thought I was forever an only child."

Paul paused to draw a breath again, and then went on, "Anyway... she was six when my dad took a couple weeks off work for a vacation. We were gonna go to Florida. Summer didn't know, but we were actually gonna go to Disneyworld. It was gonna be this big surprise, and I could barely keep it in but I managed. I couldn't wait to see her face when we got there. She was a _tiny_ kid. She was still in a car seat because she was so skinny and didn't weigh enough to sit in the regular seat."

Somewhat dreading where this story was going, Bucky stayed silent and listened, noticing how Paul fidgeted the more he spoke. "Anyway, we had just crossed the Florida border when it happened. We were in a little sedan, on the highway, and this big truck was literally driving the wrong way, towards us. My dad swerved to miss it, hit another car, then someone else slammed into us and we ended up flipping a couple times. Like something you'd see in a movie. But what I remember the most was when the windshield shattered, right before we flipped, and you would expect it to be in just a million pieces, right? And mostly it was, but there was this huge piece of glass that came flying back towards us. I didn't see it but I had thrown my arm over her, not because I thought it would actually do any good but just because it was instinct I guess. I was twelve, I didn't know what I was doing. The glass hit my arm, which was over her chest."

Bucky then glanced down as Paul rolled up his sleeve to his elbow, showing him a large but faded jagged scar on the surface of his forearm. "It got stuck there and was _really_ deep. But obviously it would have done her more damage if it had hit her where my arm was." Then he paused, rolled down his sleeve, and said, "We all had our seatbelts on but my dad was killed instantly. My mom was in the hospital for three days before she died from internal injuries. I just had some bruises and a concussion, and the giant cut in my arm. Summer barely had a scratch."

Blinking a couple times, Bucky looked towards Summer, who was still sleeping peacefully in the bed, and Paul cleared his throat before saying, "My point with all of that is that after that happened, I thought my whole purpose in life was to help take care of her and protect her. And I did, but then college happened and I got a scholarship that took me all the way across the country. I was halfway through med school when Mark happened. All of a sudden these bad things started happening to her and I was useless. I wasn't there. Grandma was, but she was dying, and Summer was taking care of her by herself while dealing with what happened and finding out she was pregnant and..." He paused, then sighed. "And I wasn't there. And I'm still not there."

Before Bucky could say a word, though he wasn't sure what he could possibly say, Paul concluded, "So I guess this sort of felt like that all over again. And instead of blaming myself I decided to take it all out on you, since you were the easiest target. So... I'm sorry."

Bucky shrugged vaguely, furrowing his brows as he muttered, "I blame myself too."

"Yeah, she mentioned that. She's probably gonna start slapping both of us soon if we both don't stop. I mean, rationally, neither of us are at fault here."

"Doesn't matter," Bucky muttered.

Paul sighed. "No. It doesn't."

Silence fell then, aside from David playing a game on his tablet and noisily eating his lunch. But, now that they were at peace and mostly on the same page, Bucky didn't feel uncomfortable or anxious anymore.

"Don't tell her this," Paul said, very quietly just in case Summer would wake any minute, "but I applied for a fellowship here in New York a few weeks ago. Not here in the city but a hospital that's like an hour and a half away. I have to talk to Sarah about it, but if they offer me a spot, I'm gonna take it. I want to be here to help her get better. I know she's got help from you and a bunch of superheroes, but still. I'm sick of never being there for her."

"She'd be very happy if that happened," Bucky replied quietly. Happy was an understatement - more like overjoyed.

Paul nodded. "I'm gonna try. I'll figure it out." Then he was quiet for a moment, gaze shifting to David for a bit before he said, "I'm also sorry for how I've acted about David. That might be the worst of it."

Bucky shrugged again, truly unable to hold any of it against the man. "It's no big deal."

"Actually, it is," Paul replied. "It's a _very_ big deal, the way he is with you. He's been glued to her since birth and hated just about everybody else. Not hated, but you know what I mean. So it kind of hurt at first to see you taking care of him and how he trusts you but still doesn't trust me."

David glanced at both of them, then went back to ignoring them.

"Sorry," Bucky eventually said, because he had no idea what else to say.

Paul chuckled. "Don't be. I'm glad he's finally got a... well, a father figure."

Bucky tried not to wince, but he couldn't pretend to be comfortable with the term. He was pretty sure that father figures were supposed to have their own crap together and not be perpetually one step away from a breakdown, not to mention someone who didn't have a past filled with more blood than a donation center.

"But... do you think I could maybe take him for a walk or for a soda or something?" Paul asked. "I haven't really gotten to see him or talk to him once since I've been here."

Bucky nodded, finding it odd that Paul asked him first, but then, he supposed that this was part of being an acting parent in Summer's absence. "Yeah."

"Thanks." Then, to Bucky's surprise, Paul stuck out his hand and said, "So we're good again?"

He looked down at the hand before taking it and accepting the handshake. "Yeah."

"Good," Paul sighed. "Now Summer will stop trying to kill me and I can sleep better at night. I don't do well being a jerk. It's like this one time when I tried to be a sports fan. It just doesn't work and I end up whining about my failures in my replica of Tom Riddle's diary." Then he gave Bucky a side glance and said, "Don't judge me."

"I'm not," Bucky shrugged. Though he had no idea who Tom Riddle was, he was simply relieved that now, at least, things with Summer's brother were back to normal.

Now he just had to try to get the story of her parents' death out of his head before it made him feel even worse for failing to protect her.

* * *

_The bed was warm, comfortable, familiar, like the body currently sliding on top of hers and making her gasp with sweet but maddeningly inadequate friction. There was not a stitch of fabric between them, nothing but the rustling of sheets and airy breaths and the occasional deep groan in her ear that made her entire body shudder pleasantly. It was perfect, absolutely perfect, if only he would just stop teasing her and finally give her what she needed. _

_His hands ran up her arms and then laid them on the pillow over her head, his right hand gently holding her wrists together as he kissed her deeply and let his metal hand trail down her overheated body. The contrast of cold and hot was almost too much, making her moan softly against his lips and say, "Please, stop teasing me..."_

_He groaned a little in reply, left hand reaching under her leg and pulling so that it circled his hip, bringing them even closer together but still not enough as he kissed down towards her neck. "What do you need?"_

_Unable to touch him because of how he was still holding her hands down, she arched against him instead and replied shakily, "You. You know that."_

_He hummed his understanding, nipping near her pulse point before dragging his lips back up to hers and kissing her softly. "I need to ask you something first."_

_She bit her lip, having no idea what to expect. "What?"_

_He kissed her again, long and passionately, grinding softly down against her and making her arch and moan all over again. When he broke the kiss, she looked at him with dazed, heated eyes, watching an expression of utmost seriousness cross his face and his eyes bore into hers like he was about to ask her something that would irrevocably change their lives forever. _

_Her nerves alight with anticipation, his left hand cupped her face and he stared at her intensely as he asked softly, "What does the fox say?"_

_Time stood still as she stared at him, previously heated expression turning highly confused as her brows furrowed and she blinked. "... What?"_

_His eyes narrowed and his tone dropped lower, belying the utmost of gravity. "What. Does. The fox say."_

_She looked at him, then to the left and the right, wondering if the apocalypse had come and this was her way of finding out. "Um..."_

_Suddenly the lights above them flipped on, and Steve was standing on the other side of the room, dressed in a big fluffy fox costume and holding his shield in one hand and a can of whipped cream in the other - which was even weirder than the fox suit - as he began singing the chorus of one of the worst songs ever shot to popularity through YouTube. _

_Thankfully, that was when she woke up. _

Her eyes shot open and she awoke with a jerk, which made her instantly groan in pain, having rattled her whole body in the process. Wincing, she rubbed her hand over her sleepy eyes and opened them again, looking around the hospital room that she was still very much confined to, deciding that the drug-induced dreams were officially getting ridiculous.

"Another dream?" Bucky guessed, sitting at her side as usual and almost smiling at her sudden wakefulness.

She nodded, first asking, "Where's David?"

"Taking a walk with your brother," he replied.

"Oh. Good," she said, slightly surprised. Then she sighed and muttered, "That was the weirdest dream yet."

"Seemed like a good one at first," Bucky shrugged.

She gave him a cautious look. "... Why?"

"You were... squirming and... moaning," he said, fighting a faint grin.

Her eyes widened to comic proportions. "_Oh_ _God_."

This time, he did grin, tilting his head a little as he said, "You can tell me about it if you want."

Blushing slightly, she said, "Well, we were... you know."

"... Having sex?"

"No," she shook her head. "Not yet anyway. You were being a jerk and teasing the crap out me. Then you got really weird and quoted a horrible song, and then Steve was there dressed up as a fox and holding a can of whipped cream for some reason. And singing." She then scrunched up her face. "And watching us."

Bucky's expression of amusement became decidedly more grossed out as he furrowed his brows and replied, "... I hope that's when you woke up."

"It was," she said. "I didn't want to find out what the whipped cream was for."

He nodded. "That does sound weirder than the body switching one. Not that I'd know since you won't tell me about it."

She smiled and shook her head. "And I never will."

He just looked at her and said, "I already have a fairly good idea of the first thing you'd do if you woke up in my body. And you were moaning during that one too."

She cringed and muttered, "It was really weird, okay, just leave it at that. Even if it was technically something I've already done like a zillion times. Well, except for the second part."

"... Which was?"

She shook her head. "Nope. Let's change the subject. Hey, this is the first time we've been alone since... actually, before the accident."

Surprisingly, that did the trick of indeed changing the subject. Bucky's expression grew more serious, and she was kind of sad to see it, since the last few minutes had been a rare instance of him being playful rather than broody and sad.

"Has Paul apologized to you yet?" she asked, shifting to get more comfortable in the bed, or at least trying to.

He nodded. "Yeah. We talked."

"And is everything okay now?" she asked a bit anxiously. She sighed with relief when Bucky nodded. "Good. I couldn't take anymore of the awkwardness and him looking at you like he wanted to kill you."

He nodded, but she could see that same dark look back on his face, despite the good news of Paul getting over his brief time of hating him. She knew why though, and had pieced it together already, but she just wished that he'd finally tell her himself.

"Bucky?"

He looked up at her, leaning on his arms down on the side of the bed as he shifted closer to her. "Yeah?"

"You know, I might not be a closeted math genius like you, but I can add two and two and get four." When he said nothing, she asked softly, "Why won't you just tell me what happened?"

His eyes then left hers as he cast them down and muttered, "If you already know then what's the point of me saying it?"

"Because something's eating you up and I hate it," she replied. She moved one of her hands to his right one, gently holding it as she added, "I know you don't want to 'burden' me with anything but I'm just really banged up, not useless or dead. Let me try to help you. Just talk to me."

A long moment passed where they were silent, and she watched as he turned his hand in hers, grasping it and running his thumb over the back of her hand as he stared at it and slowly came up with words to say.

When he did finally speak, it was barely above a whisper. "I thought the worst, Summer. Your head was bleeding so much. I thought he might've killed you." Then another pause, just before he looked up at her and admitted in a small voice, "I lost it."

"What did you do?" she asked gently.

He blinked a couple times, then looked away and said, "He tried to back up and drive away, so I grabbed the car and pulled it back. Destroyed it in front of everybody. Pulled him out and..." He paused and grimaced, then forced the rest of his words out. "It was a blur. I went numb. I would have killed him if Steve hadn't pulled me off of him."

In a strange way, it was a relief to hear him say the words out loud. She gave his hand a squeeze and asked, "Why did you try to keep it from me?"

He shook his head and looked up at her, misery apparent in his blue eyes as he replied, "It had been so long since I'd done anything like that. I was doing better. You said you were proud of me. And then with this, I just..." He looked away as he muttered, "I let you down."

Her chest suddenly ached, and it wasn't because of her broken ribs. "Bucky," she said in half-horror, "oh my God, _no_. No you didn't. Why would you even say that?"

He shook his head again. "I should have been there with you the whole time. If he wakes up and they find me..."

"Then we'll deal with it," she replied. "But don't for one second think that because you're human and you made a mistake that you let me down."

He looked at her a bit incredulously. "Beating a kid almost to death is just a mistake?"

"If someone hit you with a car and almost killed you, then tried to drive off, yeah, I'd want to kill them too," she said. "I'm not saying that you didn't screw up, but it's not like the kid was exactly innocent, either. You're human. You're going to screw up and make mistakes. That's life. Just like... accidents and stupid drivers. Stuff happens. The point of this," she gestured to the two of them, "is not hiding crap. I want to help you like you're helping me. I can't do it if you don't tell me."

He nodded half-heartedly, and when he had nothing else to say, she gave his hand another small squeeze to get his attention and said, "I know you blame yourself for what happened. And I also know it'll take a long time for you to accept this, but there wasn't anything you could have done to stop it."

He shook his head for roughly the thousandth time. "I hate this."

"Me too," she said quietly, seeing the threat of tears in his eyes. "And I'm really scared of going so long without working and how hard it's gonna be to walk again, but I am incredibly lucky to have you, and so is David. I don't even know how I'd do this without you. I mean, I _would_, but it would be a thousand times harder for both us. So _thank_ _you_."

He nodded, his eyes lightening a just a tiny bit at those words. She smiled a little as he leaned in closer and kissed her forehead, and before he could draw away, she reached up and used her hands to guide him down for one of the first proper kisses they'd had since she had first woken up. Understandably, he was treating her like she was made of glass, but that didn't mean that she couldn't kiss him.

It was soft and sweet, over all too quickly when he pulled away and brushed aside a piece of her hair that had fallen out of the braid that Natasha had helpfully made for her earlier that day. It was such a lovely, quiet moment, rare these days and even rarer to be alone with just him, but unfortunately, her body forced her to ruin it.

"I would really like to just lay here and ask you to kiss me some more, but I think I'm gonna die if you don't take me to go pee."

He chuckled quietly, kissing her one last fleeting time before straightening up and beginning the arduous task of transporting her to the bathroom. First her various monitors and IV tubes had to be taken care of, and then there was the act of getting her from the bed and into his arms without jostling her or hurting her in one of the many places that were sore or in pain. She hated asking him for help with such a basic function, but she had no other choice, and until the doctors gave her some crutches to start learning how to hobble around on, she just had to get used to it.

Once he had carefully scooped her up and began walking carefully towards the bathroom, she held on to his shoulder and asked, "When I'm better, will you still want to have sex with me?" When he turned widening eyes on her and stared at her like she was nuts, she clarified, "Well, because you're kind of seeing me at my absolute worst right now and there's just something really awful about needing you to literally sit me down on the toilet so I can pee. It's like the death of romance once that happens, you know?"

He rolled his eyes at her. "No. I _don't_ know."

"You can be honest, I don't mind," she said, and to her surprise, he stopped in his tracks and turned his gaze fully upon her, just shy of reaching the bathroom.

"I've never lied to you, Summer, and I'm not lying now. I'm never going to _not_ want you."

"Even if I get really big and fat from laying around all day for months and live up to Tony's 'McDonald's' nickname for me?" she asked half-jokingly. It was far from one of her top worries, in fact barely even on her radar, but it could happen.

He stared at her for a moment, like he was sifting through a number of possible retorts before settling on, "You actually think that I would mind certain parts of you being even bigger than they already are now?"

Now it was her turn to roll her eyes. "It wouldn't _all_ go my boobs."

"I wasn't talking about just them."

She raised an eyebrow to him and then said, "You make it really hard for me to be insecure, you know that? And that's really saying something, considering I'm in a hospital gown and I'm all fricked up and smell like a bottle of 409."

"Good," he replied, giving her a half-grin. "Because you do the same for me."

She smiled at him then, closing her eyes when he pressed one more soft little kiss to her lips before continuing on their way.

Nothing about what laid ahead would be easy, but in moments like those, believing that she would be all right - and that he would too - came as easy as breathing. At least, breathing with non-fractured ribs.

* * *

The end of the day came much like all the others had, with silent but determined protests from David when it came time for Bucky took him home from the hospital. He never got used to going home without his mother, and every time it was the same struggle, though it always ended the same way - Bucky having to carry him out of the hospital as the boy sniffled on his shoulder, hugging him with his little arms and not letting go until Bucky put him in the car.

He couldn't even be annoyed or irritated with David, because inside, he felt the same way about leaving Summer there in the hospital every night. He was trusting strangers to take care of her while he was gone, leaving her to sleep alone (except for the nights that Paul slept in the chair next to her) in an uncomfortable bed and unfamiliar space. The thing that made it bearable was knowing that she slept so soundly at night thanks to the drugs that it wasn't so bad for her. For himself and David, however, it was much less pleasant.

But, he had established a nighttime routine the first few nights that David had done well with sticking to. He'd take him back to the tower, give him a snack, let him spend an hour winding down with video games, then take him to his room and help him through his pre-bed routine. After that, he'd sit next to David on the side of his bed, and read him a story of his choice until he was asleep. It was mostly the same thing that Summer did with him, so it was familiar, and it got the job done. Then Bucky would sleep on a blanket on the floor, because he wanted to stay close to David but didn't trust himself in his current state to not accidentally punch a hole through the kid's head if he slept next to him.

On this particular night, once David threw on his pajamas (Iron Man ones tonight, as a change of pace), he dug through his little basket of story books before settling on one about Jack and the beanstalk. He handed Bucky the book and then crawled under the covers, rubbing his eyes and yawning as Bucky flipped it open to the first page.

The first night, he had read the story in such a monotone voice that David had actually smacked his own face in frustration. Then he tried to overcompensate by being too animated, which made him feel even stupider and David even more annoyed, but by the second night he had found a happy medium that seemed to work well enough. Now, reading the stories felt natural rather than uncomfortable, and he was finding some comfort of his own in the predictability of the routine.

But, as soon as he had read the first line of the first page, David did something unexpected and snuggled up to Bucky's side. He stopped reading for a few seconds, looked down at David, then moved his arm around him and turned back to the book.

He still wasn't sure what he really was to David, or what the boy himself saw him as, but he was starting to think that it didn't really matter. Whatever it was, whatever they were, it was something that had grown from absolutely nothing to something substantial. He didn't even know when it had changed, but his birthday had been when it had finally hit him. David handing him that little action figure painted to look like him, metal arm and all, had been the moment where he stopped looking at David as just Summer's son. Now David meant something to him as well, and he'd protect him just as fiercely as he'd protect his mother.

And that was why taking care of him wasn't a burden. It was rewarding in its own way, like these unexpected moments when David would literally lean on him, and while Bucky wasn't sure _why_ the kid liked him so much and had grown so attached, he was glad for it.

He was nearly through the book when David had started to close his eyes, and he had turned to the last page when a sudden blaring alarm-style noise began ringing ear-splittingly through the very walls.

Not only did David jump about a foot into the air, but _he_ did too, and suddenly his defensive instincts raged to life. He grabbed David and shielded him with his left arm as he looked around wildly before shooting off of the bed, carrying the boy with him.

He went to the door, only to find it locked. Just as full panic began to set in and he was sure that they were all under attack, the robot that lived in every wall in the whole damn tower essentially shouted over the alarms, "Sir, Mr. Stark wishes me to inform the residents of this floor that this is merely a test of a new alarm system gone very wrong. The tower is in no imminent danger."

Bucky stared at the wall like it had personally offended him, then rolled his eyes and allowed himself to relax. He wasn't on good enough terms with Tony to do it himself, so tomorrow, he'd tell Steve to chew the guy out for deciding to test out a new alarm system at this brilliant hour.

But before he could think too much on it, he noticed that the child that he was still holding was shaking. He looked down, shifted his arms so that he could see him, and then he could see David holding his hands over his ears and scrunching up his little face like he was about to burst into tears.

"Hey," he said, or rather yelled due to the still-blaring noises, moving back to the bed and setting David down on top of it. He grabbed his shoulders gently to get his attention and said, "It's okay. It's a test. Nothing's happening. Everything's okay."

He wasn't sure if David could hear him, but he also didn't think it mattered, because now he was crying and making an odd, low-whining sound in his throat. When he started rocking slightly, smashing his hands down over his ears so hard that it looked painful, Bucky remembered that he wasn't dealing with just any kid. He was different, and while Summer would have known what to do to help him, Bucky had no idea.

He tried first to keep talking to get David's attention, get him to focus on the sound of his voice instead of the alarms, but it was no use. He stood back for a minute, back on the verge of panicking as his thoughts raced on what he could possibly do to help. What would Summer do? He didn't know, because he had never seen David have a meltdown over noise before.

When the low whining turned into something more like a strained scream than anything else, he gave up trying to figure out what to do and instead sprinted for his phone on the table next to his bed. He'd just call Summer and ask her what to do instead of floundering stupidly.

But when he picked up his phone, his hand brushed a pair of headphones in the process that belonged to David. Just before he hit Summer's number on his contacts, a sudden idea struck him. He set his phone down and grabbed the headphones instead, then found David's backpack next to the bed and fished his tablet out of it.

He fumbled with getting the headphone jack into the right hole and then unlocked the device, kneeling in front of David and then trying to find the music on the damn thing. When he finally found it, there wasn't much, really just a handful of soundtracks from a few movies that David, so he clicked on the first one he saw and then grabbed the headphones. He pried David's hands off of his ears, which was no easy feat, and then put the headphones over them instead. Then he turned up the volume, as high as he could without damaging the kid's ears, and sat back, watching him carefully to see if he'd just throw the headphones off or freak out even more.

He did neither. He sat there, still crying and rocking a little bit, but the screaming stopped and his eyes calmed down a little. Overhead, the alarms were still going, but now they were being drowned out, and when a full minute had passed, it seemed like the music idea had worked.

What Bucky wasn't expecting was David then jumping off of the bed and throwing himself right into his arms on the floor, but that was exactly what he did. He didn't just hug him - he burrowed into him like he was the only safe place to be in the entire room, maybe even the whole building. After a few seconds spent regaining his bearings, Bucky wrapped his arms around the boy and straightened up some, shifting so that his back was to the bed, and David curled himself up against his chest like a toddler would to their father after a particularly bad nightmare.

Then the alarms stopped. Everything was finally quiet, except for the still-slightly rapid breaths that David was taking, and the sniffing back of leftover tears. It was also then that Bucky noticed the sound of his own breathing, which matched David's, and he closed his eyes and sighed his relief that it was over.

His right hand ran comfortingly along the back of David's head, and as the room grew even quieter, David grew calmer and calmer until his breaths evened out and his trembling stopped.

Bucky, meanwhile, had no idea that the song he's chosen for David to calm down to was "You've Got a Friend in Me" from the _Toy_ _Story_ soundtrack, and by extension, he had no idea how perfectly fitting it was and why it was so effective in helping calm the boy down. He thought it was just the familiar noise of it, canceling out the jarringly loud alarms, and to a point, it was. But it was also more.

And awhile later, when Bucky realized that David had fallen asleep in his arms, he sighed one last time and ran his left hand over his own face, taking a minute to process what had just happened. He couldn't believe that he had actually figured out a way to help on his own. He'd been sure that this was going to be a disaster, an all-night thing, because he wasn't Summer and he didn't know David like she did and he wasn't what the kid needed.

Now that the opposite had happened, and David was sound asleep in his arms, he had no idea what to think.

After a few moments, he carefully stood up and moved to the top of the bed, where he laid David down and then drew the covers over him. David stirred only a little, snuggling into the covers and letting out a deep breath, officially out until the next morning.

Bucky watched him for a moment, still unsure of what exactly to think of it all. Then he wandered to the bathroom, his last stop before going to bed himself, and ended up staring at his reflection in the mirror for just a moment longer than he intended to.

He was a lot of things. Some good, some not, a lot that fell somewhere between and wasn't as easily defined. There was plenty that he'd change if he could, even more that he wished he didn't _want_ to change. He wished that he was as simple to understand as Summer, Steve, Sam. Instead he felt more like he belonged filed into the same category as Natasha, which wasn't a bad thing. It just made understanding himself and who he was all the more complicated.

But Nat, who had called Bucky a mirror of herself, had apparently known something long before he had. Today, Paul had echoed the same sentiment, and the words rattled through his head like phrases and terms from a language he wasn't familiar with.

_Parent. Father figure_. These were not words he would have ever chosen to use in association with himself, nor did he think anyone else would have either, and yet here he was.

It was terrifying to think that a little person, completely innocent and apart from the world at large, might look at him like the father he'd never had, or at the very least, a man that he saw as worthy to fill that role. It was a weighty thing, a sort of pressure that could have taken his breath away if he had let it.

He searched for reasons for it to feel wrong, to poke holes in the theory and shoot it down. When he came up short, there was nothing left to conclude aside from the fact that it actually felt very _right_.

So had Summer's drug-induced remark about marrying him someday and being able to walk down the aisle when she did. _All of it_ felt right, and if he let himself, he could envision all of it in his head like it was a movie some tiny part of him had already caught a glimpse of and _knew_ would be nothing short of amazing.

But, at the same time, the timing wasn't right for any of it. So, he turned away from the mirror, turned off the light, and headed for his little spot on the floor next to the bed. He left the thoughts where they laid, and filed them away for a later time when Summer wasn't injured and immobile, and he wasn't recovering from his most violent outburst in recent memory.

Someday, the timing _would_ be right, and he would allow those thoughts to resurface. Summer would be better, he would be better, and then maybe, if they were lucky - all three of them - all of this would end up meaning something even more.

He was patient. He would wait.

_One day at a time._

**A/N: So! :D With the release of AoU, this story is now officially AU and highly inaccurate to the MCU regarding several things (which I will not mention here because spoilers, duh) but that's what I was expecting of course, and, well, I like my version better in some ways lol. I'm still digesting the movie, which I saw Thursday night. I have some issues with some of it but for the most part, it's still an amazing movie and if you haven't seen it yet, GO SEE IT. I am still giddy and jumping up and down inside over it (*cough* Scarlet Witch *cough* instant flailing fangirl *cough*) Don't believe the overly negative stuff going around on the Internet saying it's terrible. It is not. The "love story" in it is, but... well, we already knew it was gonna be awful lol.**

**Anyway! Thank you guys so much for reading &amp; reviewing, as always, I love you bunches. I have both the next chapter and a oneshot in the works at the moment, so I will see you all next week with probably both of those :D **


	29. Chapter 29

**Warning that spoilers for Age of Ultron lay ahead. Nothing too spoilery yet, and I don't think there's anything not covered by the trailer until the very last paragraph, so if you want to skip that part until you've seen the movie, it won't hurt. But, next chapter's gonna be all kinds of more spoilery because I've decided to incorporate the general AOU storyline (without some things like, obviously, Bruce/Nat) here as opposed to totally ignoring it, which had been my plan all along lol. So, sorry about the spoilers but... blame my sudden need to get my metaphorical hands on new characters from the movie lol. **

A few days after the month anniversary of Summer's accident, she was finally getting the green light to go home. At long last, after what felt like the longest four weeks of her life, the hospital was finally going into her rearview mirror.

It was late morning and she was waiting on just one last visit from the doctor when she began practicing using her shiny new crutches. She had been doing this for a few days, but figuring out how to get around on them and using muscles that had gotten zero exercise or usage for a whole month was proving quite challenging. At first, getting up and getting across the room was enough to leave her exhausted, and while now she could do a few laps without collapsing, it was still frustrating. It also _hurt_.

"Need to sit down yet?" Natasha asked, walking beside her and noticing how she'd actually broken a sweat above her brow.

"Probably," Summer sighed, though she kept moving forward. The brace on her left leg made it all the more awkward. "But I really need to get used to this and this is the only way."

"Don't push yourself too hard," Natasha replied. "You'll have plenty of help back home. You don't need to try to speed anything up."

Stopping and then turning back towards the bed, Summer looked at her wearily and said, "I know, and I'm gonna hate it. Not the having help thing, because obviously I love all of you even more after all this and all everybody's done for me, but I hate needing the help. I hate asking for it even more."

"Why?"

She frowned and then resumed her "walking". "Really stupid reasons you would just laugh at."

"I wouldn't laugh," Natasha replied. "I don't laugh at people who've been hurt before by people they trusted."

Summer stopped moving and looked at the other woman in quiet confusion. "... But I haven't... did Bucky tell you stuff, or..."

Natasha shook her head. "No, he hasn't. But one of my skills is reading people, figuring them out. It's second nature now and I do it without even knowing sometimes."

Summer stared for another moment before making it the rest of the way to the bed. Nat helped her sit down and leaned the crutches against the foot of the bed as Summer asked, "So... what do you think my story is, then?"

"Well," Natasha began, "you lived alone in the middle of nowhere with a son who has no trace of a father. It's easy to tell that whoever helped conceive him isn't missed. You have trust issues. You're shocked when people show that they care about you, and you have a hard time accepting help or kindness. You and Barnes waited an impressively long time to have sex even though you didn't consider his arm or his strength to be a real threat to you. I've heard him stress multiple times on unrelated issues that he never wants to do anything without your _consent_ if it involves you."

Summer sighed and muttered, "And here I always took pride in thinking that now nobody would be able to tell by looking at me what I've been through."

"Summer," Natasha said with a slight grin, "I outsmarted a god. Trust me, not many others would know."

She smiled back briefly but then frowned again as she said, "For the longest time I felt like I had a scarlet letter on my head or something. Like everybody would look at me and see 'hi, I'm a weak, stupid victim' written on my forehead. Instead they all just thought I was a pregnant teenage slut. I couldn't figure out which one was worse."

"Is that how David happened?"

Summer nodded. "Yep. My first time was with a drunk idiot boyfriend who almost suffocated me to death in the process. And the thing is," she chuckled even though it wasn't funny, "I'm still finding out just how he abusive he was to me. There were so many little things that I never noticed or just ignored, or defended. And now, being with Bucky and seeing how he treats me, and how Steve treats you..." she shook her head. "Now I can see all the signs that I should have seen back then."

"That's how it works," Natasha replied. "It doesn't make you stupid. It makes you human."

Summer smiled at the other woman's attempt to make her feel better, and then she said, "You know what I just remembered the other day? I broke my arm back when I was still with the guy. Which was actually kind of his fault, but anyway, when I was recovering and had my arm in a sling and stuff, I'd ask him for help with certain things and he'd say things like 'your _legs_ aren't broken' and 'you know you didn't break _both_ your arms'. And I think that's one of the reasons why I hate asking for help still. Some stupid part of me keeps expecting to hear something like that."

"Stop calling yourself stupid," Natasha replied. "None of this makes you stupid."

"I don't know," Summer said, raising her eyebrows in recollection. "He wouldn't get up to help me fix something to eat but then when he'd harass me about giving him favors I'd give in. He literally said one time 'you fell and hit your arm, not your mouth' and I actually gave in instead of punching him in the face."

As Summer marveled at how naive her younger self had been, Natasha shook her head and said, "I have stories too. Enough to fill up an entire bookshelf, and I'm barely in my thirties. I've known men like that. I also know how hard it is to let someone in when you don't trust anyone."

"By someone, do you mean Steve?" Summer asked with a smile.

She nodded, smiling back a little. "_That's_ a story. Good one, though. He was persistent. I kept telling him that he was insane and it would just cause a disaster, but once he puts his mind to something... he can be pretty convincing."

Summer chuckled. "Oh I bet. Can I ask you something?" When Natasha nodded, she asked, "Were you really his first?"

"I was," she replied, smirking down at her hands. "It was a very gradual thing. He was my first for some things too, just... different things. It was all _extremely_ unexpected."

Summer smiled, then looked wistfully ahead as she said, "I wish Bucky had been my first. I mean, I can't imagine life without David, but if I could just go back and change _how_ I had him..."

"Was that your only time, until you met Barnes?" When Summer nodded, Natasha looked at her quite seriously and said, "Then he _was_ your real first time. Sex is more than biology and just the act of it. What happened to you produced a child, but it wasn't something you chose to give to someone. The first time that it's your choice, when you want it and _want_ to give yourself to someone - that's when it counts."

"... Wow," Summer marveled. "I've never heard it put that way before."

"Well, there's a big difference between being forced or just scratching an itch and then..."

"Making love?" she guessed.

"Yeah," Natasha said thoughtfully. "But it's not just that. It can be rough and crazy slamming into walls and the floor, but when you really love the person... it's still special."

Summer sighed and nodded her full agreement. "Very true." Then she side-eyed Nat and asked, "Would you think I'm a total weirdo if I sort of wanted you to elaborate?"

She laughed and shook her head. "No. But I'm not sure you could handle it."

"I _so_ could," Summer argued. "Look at who I'm with. I bet my stories could compete with yours, if not top them. I mean, Bucky's arm _vibrates_. And one time we pretended he was a professor and I was a student and it was _awesome_."

Nat raised her eyebrows briefly. "Yeah, that's not bad, I'll admit." Then she thought for a moment and said, "Steve's tongue is the best I've ever had and I literally taught him how to use it. Now he never wants to stop, so he usually doesn't."

Summer nearly fell off the bed. "Well, _damn_."

"Yeah. And just recently I found out that _someone_ has been teaching him how to talk dirty in Russian. That was... a nice surprise."

Summer let her jaw drop a little, and she grinned as she imagined Bucky slowly sounding out a word and having Steve repeat it until he got it. Being a fly on the wall for _that_ would have been fantastic.

"He can be very slow and sweet, and I love it. Then other times..." She smirked and then glanced at Summer before noting, "You're not trying to top any of this."

"Yeah, sorry, I'm just... like holy super soldier sex, Batman!"

"You would know," Natasha chuckled.

"Yeah," she sighed, "but probably not for while now. I've felt too much like crap this last month to really be dying deprived yet, but it'll probably kick in soon now that I'll be home."

"Well, you'll get there," Natasha assured her. "I just can't say enough - _don't_ push yourself too hard. Either with that, or with walking. You have the rest of your life to walk and dance and _other_ things again. Let yourself heal."

Summer sighed a little but nodded anyway. "Seriously, you should write a book. _Words of Wisdom by the Widow_. Instant bestseller."

Natasha scoffed and laughed at the same time. "Well, at least I've got one fan."

Summer nodded, smiling back. "Die-hard."

* * *

After rinsing out the bowl that David had eaten his cereal out of, Bucky opened up the dishwasher and immediately groaned in annoyance.

"Why am I the only one in this damn building who knows how to load a dishwasher," he grumbled to himself, pulling out the top rack and flipping over badly placed cups and bowls that otherwise never would have gotten clean.

"That's because Summer taught you how," Steve answered helpfully, appearing to his left and getting out a cup from one of the cabinets.

Bucky glanced behind his shoulder at Steve before finishing his task and saying, "Maybe she needs to teach everyone how because this is ridiculous."

"I think it's Darcy," Steve replied. "She tries."

Bucky then closed the dishwasher and gave Steve a weary look. "Did you taste that spaghetti she tried to make last time she was here?"

Steve shuddered a little and nodded. "Yeah. Like I said, she _tries_. Good thing we've got Sam."

Sam was the reason why nobody had gone starving in Summer's absence. He gladly took over keeping the kitchen stocked and was actually quite the cook, good enough that even David, who could be picky, never put up a fight when it came to his dinners. Sam's only complaints usually had to do with the gigantic portions he had to make to feed everybody and their "stupid unnaturally huge appetites - how many calories do you people _need_?"

Turning on the dishwasher, Bucky glanced at David as he left the table and started heading towards his room down the hallway, probably to get ready to leave for the hospital. The kid knew the routine very well by now. Then Bucky turned back to Steve and noticed that he was dressed like he normally was before donning his suit for a mission - he had a specific kind of shirt he wore underneath it that Bucky liked to point out looked two sizes too small whenever he saw it on him.

"Going somewhere?" he asked, and Steve nodded.

"We got a lead on Strucker. We head out in an hour."

_Of course_. This was actually the mission that Bucky had been waiting for, the thing that their previous smaller raids had been working towards. And as fate would have it, Bucky would have to sit it out, thanks to the one part of his life that was more important than his need for revenge against HYDRA.

Steve patted his shoulder and said, "I'm sorry. It came together very quickly and if we wait he'll move again."

Bucky nodded. "Yeah. I understand." Then he paused and said, "Keep me updated, I guess."

"Of course," Steve replied. "And if it ends up being me who captures him, I'll make sure he gets at least one good hit from my shield for you."

Bucky nodded, smiling slightly. "A punch to the face will work too. Not that I hate him anymore than anyone else from HYDRA. I don't think I ever met him, but..."

"... But he's the last major player that we know of," Steve finished for him. "I know. I get it."

Then, David came strolling out of the hallway, dressed for the day and carrying his backpack on his shoulders. He looked particularly happy as he stood in front of Bucky expectantly and smiled up at him.

"Summer's coming home today, right?" Steve asked.

"Supposed to," Bucky replied, grinning down at the kid. "I'm headed there now."

Steve nodded. "All right, well, we'll be back soon. Tell her we'll have a welcome home party when we get back."

Bucky returned Steve's smile and then nodded, gesturing to David to head towards the elevator. Then as he followed after the boy, he turned back around and said, "Hey, bring me back a souvenir or something."

"Like what? Strucker's head?" Steve chuckled.

He shook his head and shrugged. "Maybe not a head, but the only thing HYDRA ever got right was their weapons, so if you see anything that you think I might like..."

Steve chuckled and shook his head. "I'll keep an eye out."

"Thanks," Bucky replied before walking into the elevator.

He wasn't happy about missing the fight, but at the same time, he had no doubt that he was where he needed to be. He had the rest of his life to fight and to satisfy his need to make up for his past and pay back what had been dealt to him, but he had already won half the battle by building an actual life for himself. And at the moment, the most important part of that life was taking care of Summer and taking care of her son while she couldn't.

He'd just have to be satisfied with the punches Steve threw on his behalf.

* * *

The minute that Bucky told her what he was missing in order to stay behind with her and David, Summer immediately felt like a giant piece of crap.

"I'm sorry," she said, sitting up in the hospital bed and searching Bucky's face for signs of resentment as he sat next to her in his usual seat. She didn't find any, but it didn't stop her from feeling quite guilty. "If someone had told me beforehand, maybe I could have had Darcy or someone watch David while you went with everybody."

Bucky shook his head and replied, "I wouldn't have gone, Summer. It's in Europe and I'm not gonna travel that far away from you right now, for anything."

"But... I know what these missions mean to you, and if this really is the big one -"

"You mean more," he interrupted quietly. Then he gestured to the little boy currently curled up at her side in the tiny hospital bed with his tablet. "And so does he."

And just like that, she was on the verge of crying, and she couldn't even blame it on the painkillers, since she had been weaned off the strong stuff. But she held back the tears - barely - and instead reached towards him with her hand, and when he took it, she said quietly, "You have no idea how much that means to me. But I want you to have what you want, too. I don't want to hold you back, or..."

"You're not," he assured her. "It's my choice, Summer. I'm here because I want to be."

She believed him, but it was hard not to feel a little guilty at the same time. If she just hadn't lingered that extra second in the damn crosswalk...

"Okay," she finally said, pulling the hospital blanket further up and over herself, suddenly feeling cold. David kicked off the part that covered him in the process, apparently thinking it was quite toasty already, and she gave Bucky's hand a small squeeze as she said, "I hope I get back on my feet sooner than they're saying I will."

"At least you're going home today," he said with a small smile. "That's the first step, right?"

She smiled and nodded back. "Yeah. I can't wait to be back in my own bed. And bathroom. And shower. Though you'll have to help me with that one."

"Gladly," he grinned, and while she couldn't understand how he still found her appealing after the last month, she was eternally grateful for it. Then again, if the roles had been reversed, she would still find him every bit as attractive and would be greatly looking forward to the shower thing herself.

Then she burrowed deeper into the covers. "Is it freezing in here or is it just me?"

"I think it's you," he shrugged.

She sighed and curled her toes under the blanket, trying to ignore the sudden chill. Then there was a knock at the door, and she brightened up, knowing this should be the doctor and that meant going home very soon.

"Hello, hello," her doctor greeted, a different one from the one who had initially cared for her in the ICU. This one specialized in her kinds of injuries and was younger, reminding her of a less ginger version of her brother. "Ready to go home?"

"Like two weeks ago," she smiled, and he nodded as he came to a stop at her beside.

"Yeah, you've been here a long time now. I bet these guys are as sick of being here as you are," he said, gesturing to Bucky and David.

"Probably even more," she replied.

He nodded. "Your nurse tells me you've been practicing with the crutches. How's that going?"

She crinkled her nose and shrugged a little. "I'm trying but it's hard. It feels like every single one of my muscles have gone to crap from laying here for a month."

"Yeah, that'll happen. But it's good to try to get around on the crutches and at least get some exercise for your good leg. We want you as mobile as possible without straining yourself. And of course putting no weight on the injured leg."

Then he went about his examination, starting with her ribs, which were much better now but not quite fully healed. When she gave a shiver at having to pull the blanket away for this, the doc asked, "Cold?"

"Very," she replied.

He frowned and then, like a parent, touched his hand to her forehead. Then he walked away for a moment, came back with a thermometer, and asked her to open up.

When the device beeped, he pulled it away, read the display, and then said, "Hm. You've got a fever."

She furrowed her brows. "A fever?"

"101.9," he said. "Are you nauseous at all?"

She shook her head, then asked a slightly dumb question. "No. Is the fever a bad thing?"

"Well, it's not _good_," he replied. "Let's have a look at your leg."

Still shivering, she watched at the doctor went about removing her brace and inspecting her leg. He was silent for a few moments, and she stared to get nervous.

Finally, he said, "Well, I hate to say it, but it looks like we've got the start of an infection on one of your incisions."

She wanted to throw the entire bed up into the air, toss it out the window, and demand how this could even be fair. "Are you kidding me?"

He shook his head. "No home yet."

She groaned and dropped her head back. "Can't you just give me antibiotics and send me home?"

"Afraid not. Infection's not something you mess with or take lightly. But, it's also not uncommon. I'll get you started on some antibiotics and get it cleared up."

"How long will that take?"

"We'll have to watch and see how it goes," he replied. "But I'd count on another week or two. We're gonna need to watch your leg a little more closely now too."

Mentally cursing just about _everything, _Summer sighed her understanding and then burrowed back under the cover. David was sitting next to Bucky now, and after the doctor left, she glanced at both of them and muttered, "I'm sorry."

Bucky looked worried by what he'd just heard, and disappointed that now she wasn't coming home, but not angry. Then again, _why_ would she expect him to be angry in the first place?

He merely shook his head. "I'm glad they caught that before they sent you home."

She supposed that _was_ the silver lining. "Yeah. I'm just getting really sick of this. If it's not one thing it's another."

Then a nurse came in bearing Tylenol and an antibiotic drip, and after downing the fever-reducers, she went back to freezing in peace under the blanket. She always had David stay above the covers when he had a fever so that he didn't overheat, but she sucked at following her own rules.

She wasn't one for self pity typically, but after the last month and waking up to a rather severe injury, having major surgery, trying to figure out how to competently navigate on one already-weakened leg, and now being stuck at the hospital for another two weeks after thinking she was getting to go home - she was ready to throw a pity-party in her head.

And so, that was what she did, trying not to shake to death from the fever chills and not breathing a word of any of it out loud, because for whatever reason, complaining about what she was going through seemed like the most unacceptable idea in the world. After all, Bucky had been through worse and was probably getting sick of all of this, and he was missing a very major mission in order to help her with David, and all she currently was was a useless lump in a bed with a leg that couldn't properly heal without getting infected along the way.

She barely noticed when the arm rails on her bed were pushed down and out of the way, only blinking her eyes open when she felt fingers brushing against her hair. She looked up to find Bucky close, leaning on the side of the bed from his seat and comfortingly running his fingers through her hair as he kissed her forehead.

"You _are_ warm," he said quietly, frowning as he drew away.

"I feel like I'm a giant ice cube." Then she cringed because maybe that wasn't the most sensitive thing she could say to someone who had actually been literally frozen for years upon years. Maybe she just couldn't do _anything_ right.

After a moment or two had passed, his fingers drifting from her hair grazed her cheek and, when finding just a hint of moisture there, he shifted to look down at her and asked, "Are you crying?"

She shook her head. "No."

He gave her a pointed look. "I can _see_ that you are."

"I don't want to," she replied, doing her best not to look at him. "Just ignore me. I'm having a really stupid moment and thinking things I shouldn't."

"What do you mean?" he pressed gently, trying to lift her chin so that she'd look at him, but she resisted.

"Just... nothing."

When he was silent for a few moments, she thought maybe he had let it go, but she was wrong.

"You know, I can't even count how many times you've made me tell you what I was thinking because you swore it would help."

She closed her eyes, shaking her head. "This is different. I'm just being an idiot and feeling sorry for myself even though there's a million people just in this hospital who have it worse than me. Plus I'm getting to keep my leg so I'm not gonna complain about it especially not to someone who's missing an arm and was _awake_ for the surgery and - yeah, no."

After clamping her mouth shut, she felt the bed shift and then Bucky's face was right in front of hers, preventing her from being able to look anywhere else other than his eyes. "Summer. It doesn't _matter_ if someone else has it worse than you. It doesn't matter what happened to me. You're going through something... hard. Really hard. It's okay to complain a little bit. I won't think any less of you, trust me."

Her eyes welled up with tears, and she was horridly sick of crying, but she couldn't help it this time. Voice shaking a little bit, she admitted, "I'm just so sick of this place. I miss home. I miss everybody even though they visit all the time. I miss my bed - and your bed - and I miss waking up with David and making you guys pancakes and... I miss walking. I miss not needing help to do anything. I even miss getting Pepper's dry cleaning and grabbing coffee for people."

On the last sentence, though she felt utterly ridiculous, she swallowed down a small sob and covered her hand with her face to hide her embarrassment. But while she was on the verge of humiliation just because of her own feelings, Bucky slipped his arm around her and rubbed her back to comfort her.

"It's okay," he said quietly. "You don't have to be strong every minute of your life."

"But I need to get over it," she said, wiping at her eyes. "I mean, this isn't even the hardest part."

"It's not easy either," Bucky pointed out. "Just... stop being so hard on yourself."

He drew away by a few inches then, looking at her as she drew a deep breath and tried to pull herself together. "I'm sorry, I just -"

"And stop saying you're sorry," he said with a small smile.

She sighed and tried to smile back. "But I am. I'm sorry that your missing the big mission because of me. And I'm sorry that you're listening to me whine right now."

"I don't mind the whining," he replied. "You can whine. And there'll be more missions later."

Looking at him through watery but no longer crying eyes, she brought her hand to his face and said softly, "I love you."

"I love you too," he answered quietly, and just beyond him, she could see David close by, watching them silently but with concern.

He kissed her then, softly and briefly, like most of their kisses as of late. Sometimes it was frustrating, even if it was necessary, but at that moment it was perfectly enough. When they drew apart, David decided to officially crash the party and crawled up into the bed at her side the careful way that she had taught him to.

But before he snuggled up to her side like she was used to, he looked up at her and signed something that he she would never get sick of seeing from him - "I love you".

She smiled widely and pulled him in for a hug. "I love you too, sweetie. And I'm still so proud of how good you've been for Bucky. Just another week or two and we'll be home together again, okay?"

He looked sad at this, having been greatly looking forward to her coming home that day, so she just closed her eyes and held him close, hoping that he could hold out for just another few weeks without any bad days. So far, everything had gone relatively quite well as far as David was concerned, and she couldn't help but marvel at the way that David had grown to trust Bucky. Not only that, Bucky had established a routine with him, and now David no longer cried automatically every night that he had to go home to the tower. While there were very few upsides to her injury that she could see, Bucky and David's growing closeness was one of them.

Her fever starting to break already, she felt the negativity and self-pity of a few moments earlier subside just a bit, along with the chills. Maybe she didn't have to keep pretending that all of this didn't completely suck, and maybe it _was_ okay to admit to how hard it was to adapt with and cope with her new physical challenges.

She just wished that she could hurry up and do that at home.

* * *

The next day, the tower was once again filled with returning Avengers, bearing good news of a mission gone very well. And yet, before Steve even gave so much as a peep as to the mission, he looked around the floor they all shared and then asked Bucky with a look of mild confusion, "Did Summer not get sent home?"

Sitting at the kitchen table next to David, who was drawing, Bucky shook his head. "No. Her leg's infected."

Steve narrowed his eyes slightly. "You've got to be kidding me."

"I wish. She'll probably be stuck there another two weeks."

"I'm sorry," Steve sighed. "Tony's throwing a party tonight and I was _going_ to invite you to come along if you wanted, but..."

Bucky shrugged dismissively. "I wasn't part of what you're celebrating anyway, so..."

"That's not true. We wouldn't have gotten there without the intel we got on missions you played a big role in."

Bucky gave a slight chuckle. "Thanks. But still not in much of a party mood."

"I understand," Steve nodded, rather than ask if he was _ever_ in a party mood. "Well, let me know if you need anything. How's she doing?"

"She's... frustrated," Bucky replied. "And now she's getting fevers and stuff because of the infection."

"She can still keep the leg, right?" Steve asked cautiously. "How bad is it?"

"Not _that_ bad. At least that's what her doctor's saying."

Steve nodded again. "Okay. That's good. I can stop by later if she's up for visitors."

"Yeah, I'll ask. She's been pretty out of it though. That's why I'm here and not there. Went by this morning and she only stayed up for like fifteen minutes and then passed out again, then woke up long enough to tell us to just go home since she'd probably just sleep all day."

He said all of this in a very monotone voice, like he was reading the ingredients on a granola bar, and Steve frowned at how tired and discouraged he looked.

"Hey, she's gotten this far. She'll get better, she'll come home."

Bucky nodded, staring at the table and then looking up when Steve walked by, giving his shoulder a pat as he made his way to the hall.

"Hey, Steve?"

He stopped and looked back. "Yeah?"

"You find me a souvenir?"

"I did," Steve smiled. "Huge one. Gun so big it even felt kinda heavy to _me_, and that's saying something."

Well, at least there was _that _to slightly brighten Bucky's day. "Thanks. And the punch we talked about?"

"Shield to the face," Steve replied. "Figured either one would work."

That did indeed work. Sharing one last grin, Steve then turned and headed towards his room, and Bucky sighed and glanced at David. His picture that he was drawing was nearly finished, and after that, he'd probably wander around the floor and end up in front of the TV or knee-deep in one of his toy boxes, and there was no two ways about it - Bucky was bored out of his mind, and really, so was David. Bucky liked Mario Kart as much as the next unfrozen caveman, but after a month of this routine - as nice as it was - he desperately needed a change of pace. Otherwise he'd end up sitting around all day and thinking too much, and that was good for nobody.

The problem was, he had zero ideas for what the heck to do outside of the tower. He wasn't crazy about the thought of being outside with David near a busy street after what had happened the last time Summer was close to one, and his hesitation there alone was almost enough to make him relent and just spend the day staring at the wall.

That was until David finished his picture and then turned it around and slid it towards Bucky to look at. He leaned forward and found that it was a drawing of himself, Summer, and David, all in stick figures (though one of Bucky's stick arms were drawn in gray), and they were at a very brightly colored park. And he was pretty sure that the pink blob in David's stick hand was supposed to be ice cream. Or a flower he was giving Summer. But probably ice cream. And he even drew a hat on Bucky's head, apparently quite aware of his somewhat poor efforts to remain "incognito" even at parks.

The kid needed to get outside, obviously. He looked up at David and said, "I take it this is what you want to do today."

David nodded but then pointed to Summer's stick figure. Bucky tried not to wince a little as he said, "I know. It's not the same without her. But she's still getting better and right now you're stuck with me, so... if you want, I can take you."

David only spent a fraction of a second considering this before he jumped off of his seat and hurried into his room to get ready. Bucky smiled just slightly and then glanced back to the picture in front of him, smile turning back into a frown as he wondered how long it would be until she'd be home and able to come with them.

* * *

The rest of the day was, at least, quite a bit different from the others.

After taking David to the park, everything was fine and being out in the sun and getting some fresh air was even better than he'd thought it would be. The park wasn't too full, so it was easy for Bucky to keep an eye on everyone there and keep tabs on all the activity, which was helpful to keeping him calm and not anxious. Paranoia wasn't the easiest habit to kick, especially when it had been justified more than once.

Then, in the midst of finally managing to relax some, Bucky was watching David make his way up a big climbing rock near a sprawling playground when everything suddenly became _not_ fine, all because of a stupid old lady and her dog getting off of its leash.

And he felt zero guilt at mentally calling the person a stupid old lady, regardless of how rather feeble she was and obviously unaware that a certain kid at the park happened to be deathly afraid of dogs, because seriously, how hard was it to keep a chihuahua on a leash?

Either way, the chihuahua came running their way and barking up a tiny storm, and at the first sight of it, David's foot slipped off the rock and he would have fallen and probably hurt himself somewhere had Bucky not caught him before he hit the ground. The boy then scrambled up into his arms, acting like it was a snarling German Shepherd charging at him rather than a yappy rat of a dog. Bucky held him up and away from the dog and watched the old lady slowly make her way over, yelling at the dog, whose name was apparently Spike.

Once she got close enough, she grabbed the dog and fought with it to get its leash back on, and in the midst of this she looked up and said, "I'm sorry - this rat's a regular Houdini with leashes. Worst birthday present I ever got."

Surprised - pleasantly - at the lady's sarcastic attitude, Bucky shrugged and said, "It's okay. He's just scared of dogs."

"I see that. More of a cat person?" she asked in between yelling at Spike to shut up while David watched cautiously, still clinging to Bucky for dear life.

He shrugged, not really knowing the answer to that. Then the lady looked at David as she added, "Well, good thing you've got your daddy here to save you from the scary chihuahua. Not all would, you know. When I was your age I was scared of the water, so my Pa threw me in a pond and made me stay in there til I leaned how to swim out." Then she added, "He was a real gem, that one. Anyway, let me buy you an ice cream cone to make up for scaring you to death."

"... It's fine, you don't have to..."

"Nonsense!" she said, quite authoritatively. "I know your generation got brought up different but I'm not gonna ruin a kid's day without making up for it."

Then she started walking towards an ice cream stand on the corner, yelling at the still-freaking-out-dog as she went, and Bucky followed reluctantly. The irony didn't escape him of how he was actually from the lady's same generation, and heck, he could have gone to high school with her for all he knew.

Once the ice cream cone was safely in David's free hand, while the other hand still had a death grip on Bucky's shoulder, Bucky expected the old lady to then go on her way. She didn't, though, walking them away from the stand and going on to talk his ear off some more.

She talked about the weather, about some kids who ran by squealing and almost knocked into and how kids needed to stop being so rude these days, and meanwhile Bucky barely said a word, still carrying David the whole time. His thoughts began to drift into how to make a polite escape when something she said took him by surprise.

"Your boy looks _just_ like you," she said. "That's nice, you know. None of my kids looked a damn thing like me. All they got from me was allergies and scoliosis."

No clue as to what to say, he glanced at David and supposed that they looked similar at a basic level, mostly hair color and skin tone. Easy enough to pass as his kid, at least to most likely age-degenerated eyes.

"Anyway, I'll get out of your hair and get this little terror back home so he can chew up my couch some more. What's your name, son?"

He hesitated for just a second before blurting out, "James."

"James," she repeated. "I knew a James in high school. You almost look like him too."

He told himself not to panic. It was a very common name and he probably resembled lots of people.

"But he died and didn't have any kids, so... anyway. Enjoy the rest of your day. Sorry again about Spike."

He nodded quickly and bade the woman farewell, all the while wondering if the world could really be _that_ small. He'd never know for sure, because he sure as hell wasn't going to go after the woman and ask her more questions, but it was still bizarre.

He also learned a valuable lesson in respecting elders who were technically younger than he was, and not automatically calling them stupid even in his head, and even when they accidentally almost caused David to have a meltdown in the middle of an otherwise lovely day. An annoyingly moral voice in his head was very pleased with this lesson, and he was pretty sure it was that of his old self. It - or _he_ \- was back to being the dominant influence in his head, after his brief lapse when Summer's accident had happened.

_He _was still annoying as hell, though.

The weirdness of it all stuck with him after they'd left the park, dropping by the hospital to check on Summer once the afternoon had begun turning to evening. She was asleep when they walked into her room, but she woke quickly. Unfortunately, she also happened to wake with her highest fever yet and was half-delirious.

Fever reaching an impressive and concerning 104, Bucky sat in his usual seat and watched as her nurse checked her vitals and her IV bags, then got her to sit up and swallow some pills before getting the blanket away from her. This made her _very_ unhappy, and in her drug-addled, feverish, half-asleep state, she slurred, "I'm freezing! That wasn't nice... none of you are nice. I bet this place is owned by HYDRA since you like freezing people so much..."

Bucky froze momentarily and glanced at her nurse, who merely asked, "Owned by what, honey?"

"HYDRA," she repeated, eyes closing sleepily and teeth chattering with chills. "I'm friends with Captain America and I'm gonna tell him and he's gonna... gonna..."

She then seemed to fall asleep, and after the nurse looked at Bucky in half amusement and half confusion, he said, "She's, uh... a big fan of the Avengers."

"Oh," she chuckled. "I get it now. When she wakes up I'll have to tell her about when I met Thor outside of a Starbucks."

Bucky smiled back politely, though this woman's stories couldn't possibly measure up to Summer's. Then he asked, "How much longer is she gonna have fevers like this?"

"Hopefully not much longer," the nurse replied. "She's only been on the antibiotics for a day, but they should start kicking in soon. She'll be all right, don't worry."

He nodded, and soon he and David were left alone in the room again with a softly snoring Summer. He'd have to have a talk with her when she woke up about her mildly dangerous babbling, and he could imagine now how hard she was going to smack herself in the face for rambling about HYDRA of all things.

They stayed until David got hungry for dinner, and Summer didn't wake once. He didn't like leaving her like that, but the nurse came in to check her fever just before he left and told him that her temperature was down to 101 - not ideal, but at least better than 104. He just despised leaving her at all, and having to trust strangers to care for her.

He went home on autopilot, as quiet as David the whole way there, finding their floor at the tower deserted once they got to it. He expected that, since the party was currently happening upstairs, and just as he predicted, he felt no sadness in missing it.

The night was shaping up to be nothing short of routine, at least until after dinner, which were much appreciated leftovers courtesy of Sam. Rather than go spend the next hour with his video games, David disappeared into the kitchen, and when Bucky heard the sounds of noisy rummaging, he went in after the boy just in time for him to run up and thrust the thing he'd been looking for into Bucky's hands.

He looked down, saw a bag of chocolate chips in his hands, and then he looked at David and asked, "You want this?" Then David pointed to a picture of a cookie on the bag. "Oh. You want cookies."

Luckily, he knew there were cookies from the store in the pantry. He grabbed those, then walked back to David and held them out to him. "Here."

David eyed the cookies and then shook his head. Then he pointed across the kitchen to the stand mixer sitting on one of the counters.

_Oh man_. "I... sorry, kid, but I don't know how to make cookies," Bucky said apologetically. "I really don't."

David then impatiently jabbed at the bag of chocolate chips still in Bucky's other hand, and following his lead, Bucky flipped it over. There was a recipe on that side. Then David made the sign for "Mommy", and Bucky deducted, "You want me to make them like your mom makes them."

David nodded and smiled so brightly that for a moment, Bucky almost wanted to actually try to make the cookies. But the fact remained that he'd be about as good at making them as Summer would be good at lifting a truck with one arm.

"I really don't know how. Can't you just eat these?" He asked, holding up the pack from the pantry.

The smile on David's face immediately shrunk into a frown. Then, to Bucky's horror, his bottom lip started quivering like he was about to cry.

And that was when Bucky knew just how deeply this kid had wormed his way into his heart, because he gave in within an instant.

"Okay, okay," he relented, holding up his hands in surrender. "Fine, I'll... try. Just don't cry, okay?"

Then David smiled brightly again and nodded. Bucky sighed and shook his head, realizing the kid was more like his mother than either of them realized. Both seemed to have the uncanny ability to make Bucky do their bidding at their every whim, and neither of them seemed all that aware of this.

He tossed the pack of cookies back into the pantry, then looked down at the recipe on the chocolate chip bag and sighed. This was going to be horrible and he doubted that what he'd manage to make would even qualify as cookies, but now there was no going back.

Besides, maybe following the recipe would be easy. It was just instructions, right? How hard could it be?

He got his answer when he tossed the bag on to the counter and, after skimming through the recipe, grabbed the first couple of ingredients listed. It started with butter and sugar being mixed, and that seemed pretty straightforward.

He'd seen Summer use the mixer enough to know how it generally worked, and he knew where she kept her measuring stuff, so within just a few minutes, he had thrown the butter and sugar into the bowl and flipped on the mixer. All was fine until he noticed that it wasn't exactly mixing.

Then he read over the recipe and realized his mistake. It called for _softened_ butter, whereas he had thrown the stuff in directly from the fridge. He sighed and glanced at David, eagerly watching from a small chair that he was standing on to his left. Then he grabbed the bowl, stuck the whole thing in the microwave, and softened the damn butter.

With the butter half-melted, he grabbed the bowl and put it back on the mixer base, and then for the next five minutes, added the rest of the ingredients with little incident. It was hard to mess up pouring in a teaspoon of vanilla extract and baking powder, and half of the problems he did have was just finding the stuff. But he managed, and once he got to the final ingredient - the flour - he thought he had lucked out and had actually done a pretty good job of it all.

But he didn't know what would result from dumping in three cups of flour all at once and then turning the mixer at almost-full speed, so when he did exactly that, he jumped in surprise when half the flour went flying everywhere and covered his face and shirt in the process. David immediately cracked up laughing, pointing and leaning on the counter as the sounds of his full-bellied giggles filled the kitchen, and Bucky shut off the mixer with his left hand while the other worked on brushing the flour off of his face.

Once he could actually see again, he turned and narrowed his eyes at the still cackling-David. "Oh, you think that's funny, huh?"

David nodded, and Bucky didn't think twice about reaching into the flour bag, grabbing a handful, and then throwing it right at the kid's face. David squeaked and then ran away laughing, and as he watched him go, Bucky laughed too, and it was the fullest and most real laugh that had come out of his mouth for over a month.

As David hid from further flour assaults, Bucky turned back to the disaster that was the cookie dough, and after trying to mix it into something that actually resembled what it was supposed to look like, he grabbed a spoon and tried a bite. It tasted fine, and since that was what mattered, he figured it was basically a success.

But then there was the matter of getting the dough into the oven. _And_ the fact that he hadn't even turned on the oven yet, which he hadn't known he was supposed to do before everything else.

As he dealt with both things, David came back into the kitchen - hair white from the flour, even his eyebrows - and jumped back up on his chair and used a spoon to swipe a big ball of cookie dough from the bowl. As he then went to town on it, Bucky asked, "Good?"

David nodded, chomping on the spoon, and Bucky grinned, now perfectly happy with his efforts. And if the cookies that finally made it into the oven were a little misshapen and uneven, and just not pretty like Summer's cookies, then that was mainly because trying to roll a ball of cookie dough with one normal hand and one metal hand was not surprisingly difficult. It didn't occur to him to maybe spray canola oil on the metal hand to keep the dough from sticking.

At the end of the ordeal, and after he had gotten them both mostly clean of the flour, the first set of cookies came out of the oven just as ugly as they were went they went in, but that didn't stop David from devouring three in a row. Bucky ate one too, and to his shock, it wasn't horrible.

And when David signed his thanks for the cookies, Bucky smiled and nodded, glad now that he had given in, because the result was worth it. It was such a cute, happy moment compared to recent days that when he felt the floor shake under his feet, it couldn't have caught him more by surprise.

First, he froze, waited, and listened. It wasn't exactly an odd occurrence in the tower to hear loud banging or even feel it shake a bit, considering that Thor was a frequent guest and Tony wasn't always careful with his suits. But then there was a loud bang that came from over their heads, sounding distant exactly the way that it would if it was coming from the party. The sound of gunshots was the final confirmation he needed to grab David and take him to safety, though at the moment, he wasn't sure where that was.

But there _was_ one person - well, thing - who probably knew, so after Bucky grabbed David and all but jumped away from the table, he called out towards nowhere in particular, "JARVIS? What's going on?"

No answer.

"... JARVIS?"

Still no answer. That was _not_ a good sign.

... The hell was going on?

* * *

The next morning, Summer's fever finally broke for good, and she no longer felt like death personified. She only felt _half_ like she wanted to crawl under a rock and never try to move ever again, but at the moment, she had bigger things to worry about, like the weird things that Bucky had just told her.

"... Tony made a _what_?" she asked, squinting at Bucky, sitting at her bedside as usual.

"An evil artificial intelligence robot... thing," he said. "And JARVIS is dead."

She blinked. "Dead? How can JARVIS die? He's not even... okay. So you're telling me that there's a big evil super-smart robot on the loose?"

"It's not a robot right now," Bucky replied. "Steve said they destroyed it. But it... the AI... escaped into the Internet."

She raised her eyebrows at him. "Escaped. Into the Internet. Like a... virus or something?"

Bucky shrugged. "I don't know. I'm just telling you what Steve told me before he left."

"Left where?!"

"Africa. Look," Bucky said, "I don't really know what's going on but it's not good and everybody seemed pretty scared, so..."

"Shouldn't you be going with them?" she asked, trying to process all of the weirdness. "Because Skynet isn't something you mess with, man. I'm not sure even the Avengers can beat Skynet."

"What the hell is Skynet?" He asked in confusion.

She sighed. "_Terminator_. Never mind. But seriously though, if you need to go -"

"I'm not going," he said, in a way that told her he was getting sick of repeating himself. The tone was final enough that she didn't argue for once.

"Okay. Did you see the robot... thing?" He shook his head. "When did Tony make it?"

"Yesterday," Bucky replied.

Her eyebrows were now nearly in her hairline. "He created an evil artificial intelligence in one day?"

"I think that other guy helped him. Something Banner."

"Oh. Figures he'd be there when I'm not," she sighed, starting to think she'd never get to meet Bruce Banner. "Okay. Well, they're both geniuses, so I guess that's possible, but how?!"

"I heard Thor grumbling about how he shouldn't have let humans mess with Loki's scepter."

"Loki's... wait. Is Loki back or something? I thought he was dead?"

Bucky shrugged for the hundredth time. "I don't know."

"But if it had to do with his scepter, which I'm guessing is the blue glow stick I saw on the news years ago, then... this thing is a _super powered_ evil artificial intelligence."

Bucky nodded. "Sounds like it."

She paused, mulling all of this over, and finally, after a long moment spent in contemplation, she asked nobody in particular, "Didn't Tony ever watch _Terminator_, seriously?" Then she looked at Bucky and asked, "Are we all in danger now?"

"Security at the tower's tighter, but they're all working on containing the... threat," he said. "Steve's keeping me updated. We're gonna be fine."

She smiled at his confidence in the matter, but she wasn't so sure that all would be well. And in all likelihood, neither did he, but he was good at putting on a comforting show for her. "Well... okay."

Then he reached down and grabbed David's backpack from near his feet, and she watched him fish around for a moment before he pulled out a small plastic bag. She watched curiously as he extracted what looked like a cookie from the bag, and then he handed it to her and said, "Here. On a lighter note, try this."

"It's... really early for a chocolate chip cookie," she half-smiled. "Why?"

"Just... try it," he said, wiggling the cookie slightly.

She didn't want to, but she went ahead and took the thing from his hand and, after eyeing it unenthusiastically for a moment, she took a bite. After swallowing and finding it to be a completely normal cookie, she smiled and said, "Okay... so, why did I just eat that?"

He smiled somewhat sheepishly and said, "I made it."

She paused. "What?"

He gestured to the cookie. "I made that cookie."

She looked at it, then back to him, and smiled, "You... _baked... cookies_?"

He nodded. "David asked me to make some and I... well, I tried but I couldn't really say no."

Her mind then flooded with adorably domestic images of Bucky fumbling around the kitchen back home and yet managing to create the cookie sitting in her hand, which wasn't the most perfectly shaped cookie ever, but it tasted damn near perfect.

And the fact that he did it for her son made her fall in love with him even more. It may have just been a cookie, but really, it was so much more.

"Wow," she marveled, smiling widely at him and saying the first thing that popped into her head. "Now I _know_ you must love him if you let him talk you into making cookies."

Immediately, she wondered if she'd said something that she shouldn't have. Bucky looked a little surprised, looking down for a moment before glancing at David sitting next to him. He was playing on his piano app, something they'd both gotten so accustomed to that it was their normal soundtrack to many parts of the day, and while he didn't look up, Summer was pretty sure that he was still listening intently.

"Yeah," Bucky said quietly, looking back up at her. "I think you're right."

And Summer knew that David was listening then, because while he still didn't look up, he smiled a little to himself. And that moment between the three of them was everything she needed after a month of feeling like crap and hurting and feeling guilty for more reasons than she could even count. It was what she needed because it was the perfect example of what was permanent and what was temporary.

Her pain was temporary, though some of it would likely linger for the rest of her life, but being immobile and dependent on others was temporary. Being stuck in the hospital was also temporary, as frustrating as it was. But what she had to look forward to back home, the life that she had built and love that she had never expected to grow to what it was now - _that_ was permanent, God willing, and it placed everything into blessedly clear perspective.

And falling in love with someone who in turn fell in love with you was one thing. It was amazing and it was beautiful and something she'd never take for granted. But that very same person loving your child who they hadn't helped to bring into the world themselves - what words were there for that? What could ever be a sufficient way to describe such a thing?

She couldn't think of anything, so instead she held out her hand over the edge of the bed and wiggled her fingers slightly so that Bucky would take her hand. When he did, she smiled and shook her head. "I wish I could think of something to say that would express how much I love you because the words themselves just aren't cutting it anymore."

He smiled back, replying, "That's not a problem I mind you having."

"Me neither," she said. "It's definitely my favorite problem right now. Way better than the whole stuck in bed with a fricked leg thing."

He nodded, glancing to her leg and squeezing her hand just slightly.

"Now," she sighed, "assuming we don't all die because of this evil AI wandering the Earth... hopefully I kick this stupid infection now that the fever's gone and then I can go home."

He nodded, then calmly stated, "We're not all gonna die."

"Well, if _JARVIS_ died..."

Bucky shrugged and said with slight annoyance, "Maybe if people like Stark stopped trying to build weird things to do things they could do themselves, things like this wouldn't happen. I mean..." he stared off and muttered, "Robots and AIs and screwing around with magic stones from outer space. I don't know what's wrong with just being human these days."

He irony of him saying this, not to mention how rare it was to get an actual opinion on matters like this out of him, made her stop and then giggle, "Oh my God, you sounded so old just now."

He looked at her in surprise. "But -"

"No it's great!" she assured him, still chuckling. It didn't hurt to laugh anymore, at least for the most part now that her ribs were mostly healed. "You should throw the world 'newfangled' in there somewhere, go full old-man-ranting."

"You know I'm not _actually_ old," he said, though his grin gave away his lack of offense.

"I don't know," she smiled. "Technically, if you walked into McDonald's and asked for a senior discount on your coffee, they'd _have_ to give it to you. That kind of makes you old."

Rather than object to this observation, he said, "Right... so if I'm old, then what are you again? You said it last month... was it MILF?"

She cringed and immediately pointed and said, "Do _not_ call me that. It makes me sound so..."

"Old?" he grinned.

She sighed and dropped her hand, defeated. "Okay, fine. You got me there."

One brief moment of silence later, he said, "... It's true, though."

She turned her head back towards him and smiled at his playful expression. "Has it been a long month for you?"

"Honestly I don't really think about it. Unless I'm here with you and you look at me the way you are now."

She raised her eyebrows and laughed. "Okay, not that I think I could really give much of a seductive look even if I tried, but there is no way on earth that I can right now, in a hospital bed like this. Nope. Not buying it."

"Well... I'd offer to prove it, but..." he shrugged to emphasize the impossibility of such a thing.

She shook her head at him, though she loved that they could still banter like this even in this current situation. "Well, once I'm out of this bed, and assuming Skynet hasn't terminated us all before then, I'll let you prove it then."

"I can wait," he smiled. Then he added, "I still don't know what Skynet is."

She sighed and smacked her hand down against the bed. "And that's just... a travesty. Okay. I know what we're going to do today. You're gonna go rent the first three _Terminator_ movies, and we're gonna watch them all today, since I feel better and I can actually hold my head up without passing out."

He nodded. "Okay." Then he paused, furrowed his brows, and asked, "How do I rent a movie?"

She looked at him slightly wearily. "And you say you aren't old."

Old or not, she still managed to educate him that day on a bit more of modern movie history and the coming Skynet apocalypse. The fight just getting started on an entirely different continent may as well have been an entire world away for as close as it felt, and though she still worried that it was selfish to keep someone who could have helped on the sidelines with her, she never brought it up to him again.

Her infection cleared, and two weeks later, it appeared as if her homecoming would coincide with that of the Avengers' as well. Though, she did nearly have a heart attack that would have kept her in the hospital indefinitely when she flipped on the TV mounted in the corner of her room and saw on the news that a city in Eastern Europe was literally _flying_ off of the Earth.

On second thought... maybe she was incredibly glad that Bucky had sat this one out.

**A/N: Yeah so... this was very filler-y. Sorry about that. But! She'll be home next chapter and things will start getting interesting again lol. Also, I have a oneshot for you guys this week, and I'll be posting it either later today or tomorrow, so keep an eye out :) it's a mostly unrelated Summer/Bucky thing where, due to some mishandling of an Infinity Stone by, predictably, Tony, she gets sent back in time very conveniently to the 1940s, and then stuff happens lol. I don't know that I'd consider it part of the "canon" of this story, but consider it a nice, crack-y, feelsy change of pace from all the angst and crushed legs and hospital beds of the last couple chapters here. I think you'll all like it :D So, until next week, I love you all and thank you so so so SO much for reading and even more for reviewing. You're all the best :D **


	30. Chapter 30

**Warning for kinda major spoilers for AOU ahead, mostly regarding Vision &amp; Scarlet Witch, but also some plot points. Most of us have probably seen it by now but if not... you have been warned :)**

When she finally got the okay to go home - for real this time - Summer refused to believe it until she had the discharge papers in her hands. But a rogue fever or untimely infection didn't delay her return home this time, and when her nurse cheerfully rolled in a wheelchair to take her down to the main exit, only then did she finally let herself believe that she was going home.

A quick glance to her left showed that Bucky and David were even happier than she was with the homecoming, if it was possible.

Wearing real clothes for the first time in forever - one of her looser, more casual dresses, since it was the most practical option considering her rather bulky brace - she happily let Bucky come around the bed and lift her up into his arms, then carefully sit her down in the wheelchair.

"Hey now, don't let him carry you around too much once you get home," the nurse half-joked. "You don't want your good leg losing all its muscle too. Gotta get your exercise still."

"She'll get her exercise," Bucky said, and when Summer looked up at him as he walked at her side, she couldn't tell if he was being suggestive or not.

The nurse gave him a look like he certainly was. "Mmhmm. So how long have you two been married?"

Getting closer to the elevator, Summer somewhat guilty replied, "We actually aren't married. But he had to tell the ICU we were so they'd let him see me when I first got hurt."

"Oh, I gotcha," she replied, hitting the elevator button on the wall. "Our rules are kinda outdated like that, so I don't blame you. Could have fooled me, though. I don't see half my patients' spouses hanging around like this one has."

Summer glanced up at Bucky and smiled. "Yeah, I'm lucky."

The ride down to the main entrance was short from there, and while it wasn't her first time seeing daylight, it was a relief to see the car that Natasha had loaned to Bucky for the last few weeks waiting there to take her home. She thanked the nurse sincerely, then faced the ordeal of comfortably getting into the car with a leg that still needed to stay elevated when possible and couldn't bend even slightly.

With the front seat pushed all the way back and headrest slightly leaned back, she managed to get into the car and get her seatbelt on and leg mildly comfortable while Bucky dealt with getting David in the backseat and loading her things - including the crutches she despised - into the trunk.

Once he was done and had gotten into the driver's seat, he shut his door and turned to her, looked her over, and asked, "You okay?"

She was sort of starving and already exhausted just from the act of getting dressed in real clothes and brushing her hair that morning, and she wasn't entirely happy with how her dress was considerably tighter on her now than it used to be, but overall...

"Yeah, I'm fine." She smiled. "Take me home before they suddenly come banging on the window telling me I actually need to go back and stay another week."

He chuckled and flipped on the ignition. "At this point, I'd tell them to go f-"

"David!" she chirped, pointing back to the boy in question.

"... Forget... it," he amended awkwardly, driving forward and out of the parking lot.

She smiled at his censorship. "I hope you've kept your mouth clean while you've had him."

"Not that he would repeat it anyway, but yes, I have," he said, giving her a side look as he waited for a break in traffic to turn on the highway. "No vulgar hand gestures, either."

"Good," she chuckled. "Definitely don't want him learning that one. So is everybody home yet?"

"Most of them," he replied. "Steve's getting in later. There's gonna be some new people moving in."

"Really?" she asked. "Who?"

"A girl from Sokovia."

"The place that was flying?" she asked, the news footage of that incident forever seared on her brain. She had no idea an evil robot could cause anything remotely like _that_.

"Yeah. And someone else but I'm not sure who they are. I think it's a guy."

"Oh. Okay. Fun. I hope they're nice," she said, not really thinking much of it. The more the merrier, and besides, over half the rooms on the floor were still unoccupied.

"Oh, and don't tell her I told you this," Bucky said, "but Darcy's trying to do this welcome home thing for you. She was trying to make a cake this morning. I'm telling you so that you'll be ready to act like it's good even if it isn't."

"She's doing a welcome home thing for me?" She asked with a smile, genuinely surprised.

"Yeah. But I've tasted her cooking a couple times now and it's..." he made a face rather than describe the food with words.

"Well, baking is different from cooking," she shrugged. "I just can't believe she'd do that."

He gave her a look and pointed out, "She's visited you twice a week since the accident."

Technically, so had everyone, at least until the super ones had to go off and save the world. There had even been the odd coworker who had dropped in from time to time, and with Bucky and David's constant presence, she had barely ever been alone in the hospital. She knew that made her _extraordinarily_ lucky.

"I know. It's just... wow. I don't think I'll ever get used to all of this."

And neither would be, she knew, and that was all right. They could be perpetually bewildered by the caring actions of others together.

The drive to the tower was short, delayed only slightly by traffic, and when it was time to figure out how to hobble out of the car and get into the elevator from the underground entrance, she insisted on using her crutches rather than let Bucky carry her like a baby the whole way. He wasn't happy about it, but he let her have her way.

The first sign of life being different at the tower came when she got to the elevator and wasn't greeted by a disembodied British voice coming from the walls. She really hoped JARVIS would be back eventually, because she had grown oddly attached to the guy. Thing. Robot. Whatever he was.

Then, once the elevator reached their floor and they went through the security I.D. thing on the other side of the door, it opened and Summer's jaw dropped.

There were balloons - _balloons_ \- hanging from the ceiling, over the table that she had greatly missed eating at, and a cake sitting in the middle of the table that looked suspiciously too well-crafted to be one of Darcy's creations.

Speaking of the girl, her head popped up around the corner and she exclaimed, "Ah, dammit, I wasn't ready! Oh well. Welcome home, and - tada!"

As Darcy gestured to the whole setup, Summer broke into a huge smile and moved slowly into the room, saying, "Seriously, you did _not_ have to do this, but I love you for doing it."

"Well, I figured it could double as a welcome home for everyone else, too. The cake, though - I tried to make one myself but, let's just say I misread the instructions and leave it at that. So I bought one instead."

"It's perfect," Summer assured the girl as she smiled and walked closer to meet her. "Thank you."

"No problem. Hey, you look good!" Darcy said, looking her over. "Totally rocking that horribly uncomfortable looking brace thing."

"Thanks," Summer chuckled. "I think I've gained like fifteen pounds though. This dress used to be loose. It's _supposed_ to be loose. And it's not."

"The boobs _do_ look a little more gigantic," Darcy agreed. Then she poked her head around Summer's body to check out the back as well, and she said, "Oh, look who's finally got an ass!"

"I've always had one," Summer replied, turning to Bucky for backup. "Right? Haven't I?"

"Unless the thing I've been grabbing this whole time has been a hologram, yeah," he shrugged in reply.

Darcy side-eyed him and said, "You're getting sassy in your old age. Anyway," she gestured to Summer, "come over here and sit down because those crutches don't look fun."

"They're not," she replied, making her way to the table, "but I'm getting used to them. It's killing my arms. And my leg. My back hurts too. Everything kinda hurts."

Bucky helped her into a chair at the table, and David quickly claimed the one to her left while Darcy asked, "Aren't they giving you pain meds, like the good stuff?"

"Yeah, but I'm trying not to take too much of it," she said. Bucky sat to her right and made her smile by pulling her bad leg into his lap, and it was actually fairly comfortable. The she turned back to Darcy and said, "You should hear the dreams I've had because of them."

"I totally want to, but first, let me grab a knife so I can give you a piece of this cake and make you gain five more pounds."

She laughed, honestly not caring about the extra five pounds or the ones she already had on her, especially not once Sam and Natasha appeared from the hallway.

Natasha looked distinctly _exhausted_ but Sam seemed peppy as ever, probably because she had heard that he hadn't seen much of the fight. They both smiled and made their way to the table, Natasha hugging her first, and Summer asked when she pulled away, "Are you okay? I was watching stuff on the news and Bucky told me some things but _holy crap_."

"I'm fine," Nat assured her. "For the most part it all went... better than I thought it would. Could have been a lot worse." Then she paused and smiled a little. "How are you?"

"Could be worse," Summer smiled back. "Happy to be home."

"You should be," Sam said, sitting down across from them. "Tonight you get to experience my famous lasagna. If that's not the best welcome home gift ever, then..."

"Hey!" Darcy playfully snapped at him, shoving a plate with a gigantic slice of cake towards Summer. "Mine's the best, so don't even. I blew up balloons and baked a cake. Which I then had to throw away, but still."

"Mine's better than both of those," Natasha said, and Summer looked up at her with wide eyes.

"You got me something? But... how? You just got home from saving the world."

"It's something I ordered a month ago," she replied. "Something you'll need but probably wouldn't have thought of until you were already home."

"Really? What is it?" Summer asked curiously.

"Nothing too exciting. Just something that'll make your life a little easier. I'll show you later."

She would have kept pestering the woman into telling her what it was, but then she started eating the cake, which was delicious, and then Thor came strolling in from the elevator with Tony, and she was distracted rather easily.

"Ah, look who has returned!" Thor smiled brightly. "Just in time to help us celebrate our victory!"

"She probably can't do a lot of celebrating," Tony pointed out, making a beeline towards the table, or more specifically, the cake. "Can't mix alcohol with the happy pills she's on."

"Oh," Thor frowned. "Well, nonetheless, welcome home, my lady."

She giggled like a twelve year old and regretted nothing. "Thank you."

Tony then did indeed make a move for the cake, though not before he passed Summer and gave her shoulder a light and friendly pat with the question of "How are you, kid?". All of the well wishes and words from these people were getting to her, in a good way, and she felt full and warm and barely in pain by the time she'd finished the cake and let Bucky help her to the couch.

Bucky helped get her leg in a decent position and sat next to her, giving her a small smile that she returned before the moment was interrupted by David dropping a Wii controller into her lap with an excited smile. Then he crawled up on her unoccupied side and snuggled just about as close to her as he could manage, and she smiled and looked to the TV as she picked up the controller. She was home, indeed.

No more than half an hour had passed when she heard the sound of the elevator doors opening, and when she glanced over out of reflex, she did a slight double take at the sight of Steve stepping off with a girl she'd never seen before. Figuring this was one of the new people Bucky had mentioned, she tried to watch without overtly staring, and the first thing she noticed was that the girl had the distinct look of someone who had been crying for a _very_ long time.

The room quieted a little with the new arrival, and Steve took the initiative to introduce the girl to those who didn't know her yet, while she stood wearily and quietly at his side. She looked uneasy, and while Summer didn't know her situation yet, she couldn't blame her.

Looking from Sam and Darcy at the table and Summer and Bucky in the living room, Steve said, "Everybody, this is Wanda Maximoff. She's gonna be staying here with us for as long as she wants to. She's also one of the key reasons why Ultron didn't win."

Summer stopped paying attention to the game on the TV as Steve then went about introducing the people Wanda didn't know yet. "This is Sam, he's on the team as well. That's Darcy, who helps with..."

At Steve's blankness, Darcy supplied, "Nothing at the moment, really. But I handle alien invasions pretty well and I help where I can."

Steve smiled at her explanation and then moved on to the living room, gesturing to Bucky. "This is Bucky. He's with us but not as visible, because he technically isn't supposed to exist. He's also my best friend." Then he nodded to Summer and said, "This is Summer. She lives with us and works here. That's her son, David."

Though Wanda looked carefully at everybody she was introduced to, she didn't say anything at first, and nobody said a word to her. There was something about her Summer couldn't put her finger on - she looked normal enough, but very young, and if she had played a "key role" in defeating Ultron, then there had to be something incredibly remarkable about her.

"Hello," she finally said, softly and with a clear accent from Eastern Europe. She then glanced at the balloons hanging from the ceiling, and if Summer had to guess, she had probably not expected "Avengers Tower" to look like this, or house so many non-heroes.

"All right. Nat, is there a room ready for her?"

Natasha nodded, then stood up from the table and headed for the hallway. Steve and Wanda followed, and then all three of them disappeared, leaving Summer to wonder what the story behind this girl was.

She got her answer a little while later, when Steve came back from the hallway and sat down on the couch across from the one she and Bucky were still occupying. He smiled as he sat and said, "Welcome home. Sorry I missed the party."

She smiled and shook her head. "Oh no, you didn't miss much. There's cake if you want some."

He nodded. "Thanks. How are you feeling?"

"Well, this place is already doing a great job of distracting me from my leg," she replied. "So, pretty good."

"I'm glad to hear it," he said sincerely. "Seemed like you were stuck in that hospital for a lot longer than six weeks."

She nodded, the six weeks having felt like six months instead. But before she could express this, next to her, Bucky cut to the real thing that she was wondering and asked, "What's the girl's story?"

Steve glanced between the two of them before leaning forward a bit more and replying quietly, "She didn't start out on our side. She and her brother were orphaned in an attack on their country when they were kids. Sokovia's been torn apart by war for years. They volunteered for HYDRA to experiment on them and -"

Bucky's reaction was instant and almost made Summer flinch. "She volunteered for HYDRA?"

"Yes, but -"

"And you're letting her stay here?" Bucky asked in disbelief.

"Let me finish." Steve said this in such an unexpectedly fierce tone that it even caught Summer by surprise. "They were the only two survivors of HYDRA's experiments. They were there on the Strucker mission, but they got away, and went to work for Ultron. They thought they were going to get revenge on us - they blamed Stark for what happened to their parents because it was his weapons that killed them. But they turned when they found out Ultron was going to wipe out the entire human race."

Summer wanted to exclaim that her comparison to Skynet had been incredibly accurate, but she kept her mouth shut for the moment.

"They both fought on our side, but her brother died taking fire to save Clint and a civilian," Steve went on. "She needs help. She's not a threat to us."

Unconvinced, Bucky replied, "Anyone who would _volunteer_ for HYDRA shouldn't be here, Steve. What the hell are you thinking? She -"

"You know their methods better than anyone," Steve interrupted. "You told me how they told you that you were saving the world and making it a better place. You think they told two angry orphans any different? Or that they told them what they really stand for?"

"I think you're a sucker for anyone with a sad story," Bucky replied.

Summer looked back and forth between the two men, having never seen them actually argue about anything before.

Steve's jaw clenched slightly and he said, "I'm not asking you to trust her. I'm asking you to trust me."

Bucky paused for a moment, then said quietly, "Innocent people live here. You're putting them in danger."

"If I thought she was a danger to anyone here, Bucky, you _know_ I wouldn't have let her even step foot in here."

Then neither man said anything for a moment, and Summer took the opportunity to ask a question that she kind of _really_ needed an answer to. "Okay, so... what does she actually do? Like... you said they experimented on her, but what did it actually do to her?"

"It's hard to explain," Steve replied. "She can do a _lot_. I watched her stop a train from crashing and killing everybody on board. She can move things with her mind, attack with this red... energy." Then he paused and added, "And she can get in your head and make you see things that aren't there."

Summer could _feel_ the simmering anger just about burst from Bucky as he all but seethed, "She was HYDRA, and she has _mind control_ powers, and you let her get back _on this continent, _let alone in this building."

Steve's face flickered with a weary sort of horror. "Bucky -"

"No," Bucky shook his head, standing up from the couch and briefly turning to Summer. "Text me if you need me."

She nodded, then watched him stomp off, across the room towards an outside terrace, presumably to "get some air" as if that ever really helped anybody. But Summer had to admit - and this was coming from a girl who had let a then-suicidal and violent HYDRA experiment live with her and her kid - she wasn't sure that Bucky wasn't totally justified in his anger.

When Steve sighed and rubbed his hand over his face following the departure, Summer said quietly, "He's got a point, you know."

"I know he does," Steve replied. "But he wasn't there. He hears the word 'HYDRA' and that's it, he won't hear anything else. But I'm not the only one vouching for her. We all are. She just lost the only family she had left because they were fighting to fix what they helped start. And if I thought there was even the slightest chance that she might still be a threat, I wouldn't have brought her here."

Summer nodded, mulling this over. Steve spoke with such conviction regarding the woman, and she knew that he didn't defend just anyone like this. He defended those whom he knew deserved it, and when it came down to it, his judgment was one that she would likely always trust.

"Well," she said, "I'm sure that he'll come around. If she's the way you say she is, he'll understand once he gets over being pissed."

Steve nodded, then sighed, "I knew he'd take it like that. I knew how it would sound, especially to him."

Summer nodded, still unable to blame Bucky for his reaction. "Yeah... but he trusts you. I'm sure this won't change that. And for what it's worth, she didn't look like an evil witch person or anything."

"She's not. But she _could_ be if she went the wrong way. That's one of the reasons why I'm helping her."

And if there was anything Steve had experience with, Summer knew, it was helping people who had the potential to be a hero but all the reasons to be a villain. Bucky had turned out pretty good so far. Hopefully this girl would too.

* * *

Outside on the terrace, fuming silently and glaring out into the city, Bucky didn't budge when he heard footsteps behind him. At first he was sure that it was Steve, coming out there to convince him that this Wanda girl was harmless and that her willingly becoming a HYDRA puppet didn't automatically make her insane at best and a danger at worst. But then as the footsteps grew closer, he knew they weren't Steve's, because he recognized his steps from a mile away and these were different.

"Hey man," Sam said, and Bucky glanced behind him in mild surprise. He wasn't sure that he had ever spoken to the man one on one before. Usually there was a buffer of at least Steve if not other people. "I overheard you and Steve talking."

Bucky turned back to staring into the distance and said, "You're not gonna change my mind, either."

"Wasn't gonna try to," Sam replied, now next to Bucky and leaning on the railing. He looked out at the skyline as well as he went on, "Actually, I just wanted to mention a conversation me and him had awhile back. Right before you guys fought on that helicarrier."

Bucky briefly glanced at Sam, wondering what he could be getting at. He stayed silent and listened as Sam said, "You know how he is, how he has more faith in you than most Catholics have in the Pope these days. And he was like that even when you were trying to kill us. I told him before that last fight that you might be too far gone to be saved, but he didn't even blink. He said you would remember him, and that was that. I thought he was nuts, but I followed him anyway and I didn't say another word. And the reason why is because even though he can be the world's most well-meaning dumbass and doesn't know a damn thing about self-preservation, I trust him."

Bucky was now watching him, still utterly silent as Sam made his point. "And then when we started looking for you - even though you almost killed us both and I was still pretty mad about that - I still went along with him. I didn't think we'd ever find you, and if we did, I thought you'd just finish the job. So then you can imagine how surprised I was when everything he said about you ended up being true. And now here you are. This Wanda girl's different because he didn't know her before, but... I gotta say, if he says she's okay, then she's probably okay. He's got a good track record with helping people that everyone else thinks is a lost cause."

"I didn't volunteer," Bucky muttered. "She did."

"Yeah she did. But Steve volunteered for something like that too, right? Maybe it wasn't all that different."

Bucky half-glared at him, and Sam replied by putting his hands up in surrender and saying, "Look, all I'm saying is, he took a chance on you and it paid off. Maybe it will with this girl too. And if not, there's way more of us than there is of her. And by the way," he added, "the innocent people you're worried about are important to more people than just you. Nobody here is gonna let your girl or her kid get hurt. Including me."

Sam lingered long enough to make sure that the message had sunk in, and then he turned and headed back into the tower. Bucky let him go, not saying a word and wishing that the other man's words hadn't made as much sense to him as they had.

He just couldn't get past the word volunteer. Of course, he knew HYDRA's methods, how they lured people in and filled their minds with nonsense that made mass murder seem like something worthy of a Nobel Peace Prize. He knew that their true ideals weren't something they displayed on a building or even a poster in their deeply buried bases. They were all shadows and deceit and parasitic decay after their more overt methods under Scmidt had backfired.

He also knew that even today's supposed heroes had histories darker than anyone would have liked. Tony with his war profiteering, inadvertently placing weapons into the hands of terrorists who used them to kill civilians. Natasha with her years of emotionless, remorseless killing of both the guilty and the innocent. He'd even heard stories of Thor being a reckless warmongering idiot in years past, before he had matured following banishment to Earth.

In short, nobody in the tower was perfect, least of all himself. Maybe this girl would fit right in, if Steve was right about her not being a threat.

He just didn't know. Until he knew more and until he was satisfied that she wasn't a danger, he'd be keeping an extra vigilant eye on Summer and David.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out to find the cause to be a text from Summer asking for his help. Reminding himself that this was a happy day and his first day home with Summer since the accident that had nearly taken a limb from her, he pushed down his anger at Steve and tried to put it out of his mind as he walked back into the tower.

Some of the crowd had disbursed while he had been out, so when he walked back in, Steve and Tony were gone and Sam was playing the Wii with Summer and David. Darcy was hovering near the kitchen peppering Thor with questions about the evil robots he'd battled, and there was no sign of the new resident as Bucky headed for the couch.

When Summer saw him coming, she smiled and asked, "Better?"

He nodded, sitting down next to her. "Yeah. What do you need?"

She set down the controller in her hand and said, "Well, I kinda can't get the smell of the hospital out of my nose and I think it's me, so... if you want to help me take a shower, David would be okay out here for awhile."

He nodded so fast that she blushed a little and laughed slightly nervously. He smiled back and thought that it was the perfect idea to get the day back on track, and not only that, she was right - she _did_ smell like the hospital, and he was more than willing to help her wash it away.

"Do you want me to carry you?" he asked, knowing she wore out easily these days and using the crutches to get into the tower might have already done it.

"Um... yeah, probably," she nodded. Then she glanced at Sam and asked, "Do you mind watching him?"

"Yeah, no problem. I assume you'll be about what, two hours?"

Bucky watched Summer chuckle with the same nervous tone and reply, "Well, not _that_ long, but..."

"Uh huh, whatever. Go on, have fun."

Summer gave her thanks, and when she turned back to Bucky, he wasted no time in standing up and, with the carefulness that he had mastered over the last month, picked her up and began to carry her towards his room.

When they passed her door, she said, "Your room, then?"

He nodded. "Natasha's present's in there, too."

"It is? What the heck is it?" she asked as he got to his door and gently kicked it open with his foot.

"Something that's about to come in handy," he said, carrying her inside of his room for the first time in what felt like forever.

"But what could it... whoa. What is _that_?"

He paused and looked where she was looking, at the corner across from his bed. Where before there had been empty space, now there was a small, antique piano that he had taken off of Clint's hands a few weeks ago, before the Strucker mission took everyone overseas. He hadn't had much of a chance yet to tinker with it.

"That's Clint's piano," he explained. "Or it was. It's mine now."

She then looked at him in slight disbelief and said, "Is this like the million languages thing? Did you wake up one day and suddenly remember that you play piano? Or are you learning now?"

"Not exactly... I read about it in some of my mother's letters, how she taught me to play. Then Clint mentioned he was trying to get rid of a piano, and I figured I'd need a new hobby until you're able to dance again."

Her expression softened then, and he watched several emotions flicker across her face - surprise, sadness, but ultimately, love. "Sorry about that. And I wouldn't hold it against you if you wanted to dance still while I'm getting better, but..."

"Who would I dance with?" he asked softly. "I won't dance until you can dance with me again."

She sighed a little, almost too quietly to hear, and then slid her hand behind his neck to pull him down for a kiss. It was like all their other recent kisses, small but sweet, and he drew away to smile gently at her and jerk his head towards the bathroom. "Ready?"

She nodded, anxiety creeping back into her expression as he then turned them and began walking them to the bathroom door. "The thing Natasha got you is in here, too."

"... In the bathroom?"

He nodded. "Yup."

"What the heck?"

She found out what it was when he took her into the bathroom and she glanced at the shower. She took one look at it and laughed.

OOO

Natasha had gotten her a shower chair. Of all the things that had gone through Summer's mind as a possibility, it definitely wasn't that.

"Oh my gosh. I have a shower chair. Like an old person." She paused, and then laughed again. "This is great!"

Bucky grinned at her silly reaction before setting her down on top of the closed toilet, replying, "It'll definitely help."

"Yeah, it will. And I didn't even think about it. Thank God for Natasha."

She was so distracted by the fact that Nat had thought about her quality of life enough to foresee her problems with something as routine and mundane as taking a shower that she barely noticed when Bucky reached behind her head and took her hair down out of its ponytail. She did notice, however, when his hands reached behind her back to untie her dress, and her anxiety bloomed anew when he reached for the hem.

At first, she didn't know why she was nervous, but it didn't take a lot of brain power to figure out what it was. He had been helping her for six weeks but he had not helped with a shower yet - she had left that to nurses thus far - and it had been so long since they had been in any kind of situation like this that now she wondered what the protocol would be. She was deprived, he was deprived, and now they were going to be naked together for the first time in forever, but under decidedly less sexy than usual circumstances. Not to mention their usual _strenuous_ activities weren't possible yet.

He carefully pulled her dress up and over her head, and his eyes met hers as he went to work next on the clasp of her bra. She wanted to say something, but then when he pulled the thing off of her, she took a relieved breath and muttered as she closed her eyes, "Oh, thank God. That thing is too tight now and I could barely breathe."

She heard him chuckle and opened her eyes, finding his gaze down exactly where she expected it to be, but he kept his hands to himself for now. Instead, he very carefully and with some maneuvering got her underwear off, and then he stood up, picked her back up, and moved her into the shower, on top of her nifty new chair. It was long enough to keep her bad leg propped up and straight while her other dangled off the edge, toes touching the floor.

But he wasn't done getting her ready yet, and she wasn't looking forward to this part. He began working on getting her brace off, and it always made her nervous to have it off, only because she was paranoid about accidentally bending it and also because of how jarring it was to see the scarred and still-healing flesh. The leg would never look the same, and while she accepted that, it was a reminder of that night out gone horribly wrong every time she saw it.

She tried not to look at it too much once the brace was off, and after he set it down outside of the shower, he turned around and turned the water on. The spray didn't touch her as it heated up, and she was quickly distracted by him making brief eye contact before stepping out to shed his own clothes.

She held the little rails on the chair and stared at his back as he quickly took his shirt off and tossed it near her dress on the floor. She didn't even need to see anything else - just the shifting and casual flexing of muscles on his back and on his arms was enough to make her have to hold on tighter to her chair to keep from falling off.

When she had first been injured, she hadn't had thoughts or urges even vaguely up to normal standards for weeks. Everything had simply hurt too much and the drugs had been insane. But now she felt more like a human being again, and the pills she took when needed weren't nearly potent enough to make her any less suddenly _starving _at that moment.

When he was back inside the shower with the door closed behind him, she had no shame in ogling him as he checked the stream of water and adjusted the temperature by the dial on the wall. The nervousness was mostly gone, or maybe not, but either way, she couldn't pay it any mind, especially not when he had turned back around to face her with the detachable shower head in hand.

"Where should I start?" he asked, kneeling in front of her.

She blinked and tried to focus on actually getting clean instead of _other_ things. "Oh, um... well, you can hand that to me if you want, and then grab my soap and stuff."

He nodded, passed the shower head to her, and then turned to grab her stuff that sat in a basket on the wall, exactly where she had left it all six months ago. She continued to stare at him and absent mindedly sprayed herself off, unconsciously avoiding her leg, though there was no danger in it being wet.

When he came back, he kneeled down again and, rather than ask her what to do next, picked up her bottle of soap and squeezed probably a little too much into his right hand. She then ended up letting the shower head spray uselessly on the floor beside her as he started with the foot of her good leg and slowly worked his way up. When he reached the top of her thigh, he glanced up at her and made her heart skip before then going to her other leg, working his way down with that one. He was more than gentle with that leg, barely even touching it but still getting the job done. She was chewing on her lip by the time he was done and looking at her again as he worked on getting the rest of her body covered, and some part of her brain kicked in enough to stop wasting water and turn the shower head on him while he did his work. Because watching water drip from his shoulders to his chest and arms as his hands lathered her stomach and lower back wasn't distracting at _all_.

When his hands continued their path and reached her breasts, she expected _some_ lingering and extra attention but ended up with plenty more than she had bargained for. His eyes darted back and forth from hers to where his hands were as they caressed, gently squeezed, and spent way more time there than was necessary. Her eyes rolled shut and it was hard to keep from letting her head fall back when she felt like she hadn't been touched in forever and his thumbs were flicking and rolling and making an embarrassing squeak of a moan escape her lips. She dropped the shower head in the same breath, which clanked very noisily to the ground, and he chuckled and pulled his hands away when she jumped in surprise at the loud sound.

"My fault," he grinned, reaching down to pick up the shower head for her.

She just took the thing from him silently, the most coherent thought currently rattling around her distracted mind eventually making its way out when he ran a hand through his hair, away from his face. "I need to cut your hair."

"That's what you're thinking about?" he teased, running his still-soapy hands over safer areas like her shoulders and arms, but no place on her body was safe at the moment.

"No," she admitted. "But I do. It's been like three months. You're getting close to farmboy again."

"You liked that," he pointed out, pulling away and rinsing his hands under the water that she was still holding. After, she regained enough sense to start rinsing off the soap from herself, but halfway through, he reached for something and was then holding her razor in his right hand, saying quietly, "I can help with this too, if you want."

He said it almost timidly, like he was nervous to ask or wasn't sure how she'd react, maybe because he hadn't done it before and might think that she'd prefer to do it herself. "Oh, uh... well, since I can't bend my leg, yeah... that would help a lot, probably."

He didn't need to hear another word. She watched him take to her good leg first, sitting back on his knees and staring at her leg with a look of utmost seriousness as he pressed the blade to her skin the first time. She wasn't embarrassed by any of it, which surprised her a little, but it was impossible to feel anything but loved and cared for at that moment.

He paid her leg the same careful, close attention that he gave to his face on an almost-daily basis, even going above and beyond that, and she took the opportunity to grab her shampoo and lean forward enough to reach her hands to his hair. She still had perfectly functioning hands and arms, after all, and if he was going to shave her legs for her, then she would at least wash his hair for him. She knew how it made him purr and relax against her, and this time was no exception, except it was mostly the chair that he had to relax against. _Stupid bad leg_.

She rinsed his hair when he was done with the first leg, and she thought that he was unfairly beautiful with his head leaned back and eyes closed as the water flowed through his hair and down his back. Her patience for actually showering was wearing thin, but then his eyes were open again and he was shifting, turning to her bad leg and getting that concentrated look back on his face, nearly tenfold.

But any reservations she might have had about putting a sharp razor anywhere near that leg were laid to rest in how carefully and meticulously he handled it. She never once felt in danger of even the smallest accidental cut, and when he would finish a part of it, he would run his hand over the skin feather-lightly and she would try to just focus on getting her hair wet enough to wash, but it was difficult, and not because her arms were already worn out (though, sadly, they almost were).

When he was finally done with the leg, he set the razor down and looked up just time to see her getting shampoo into her hands, at which point his eyes widened and he said, "I wanted to do that."

"Oh. I just thought... okay," she conceded, not about to argue. She handed the shampoo to him, and he got back on his knees, his face level with hers as he reached behind her head and gathered up her wet hair in his hands, lathering it as she had done with his.

And it was _torture_, because she was still needy from his previous touches and he knew _just_ how to massage her hair and scalp to make her eyes roll in the back of her head, and to make matters worse, he was _so_ close in that position and yet not nearly close enough. All of this and they hadn't even kissed yet since they'd been in the shower, and she was starting to crave it more than anything else, especially since they hadn't had a truly _good_ kiss in ages.

But she survived having her hair rinsed, even made it through him conditioning it and rinsing it again, but that was when she reached the end of her rope. The shower head in his grip at that point, he pulled it away from her hair and she opened her eyes, realizing that that some point she had stopped gripping the chair and had gripped his shoulders instead. _He_ was, in fact, holding on to the chair rail with his free hand, and their chests were very nearly but not quite touching. His eyes searched hers, heavy with things she hadn't seen there since before the accident thanks to his impeccable self control, but that control was slipping now, she could see it on his face, and she was more than happy to see it gone.

"Please kiss me," she begged before she could think the words through. "_Really_ kiss me."

He threw the shower head down and it clattered to the shower floor, both of his hands going to her face as his lips suddenly crashed down to hers. It was desperate and hungry and perfect and everything she wanted, and a blessedly welcomed confirmation that the last six weeks had indeed not killed the spark between them. She'd had worries in some of her less secure moments, but the groan that came out of his throat as his tongue dominated her mouth laid all of those thoughts to rest.

His hands wandering along her body, he broke the kiss to take a breath, and she opened her eyes and smiled at the hungry way that he was looking down at her. He grinned back for just a beat before he was kissing her again, one of his hands cupping her breast and the other gripping the thigh of her good leg. She kissed him back feverishly, wishing her leg wasn't preventing him from just shoving her against the wall and _taking_ her, but at the same time, she couldn't complain. Just this was enough, just to know that nothing had changed and that she could still make him groan and grind into her hip with almost instant need with just this.

But she knew he wouldn't stop there. He kissed down her neck, and at every short breath of air she took or airy moan that left her mouth, he would groan more and kiss harder, deeper, hold her closer while still managing to never move or disturb her leg. She was overwhelmed from the start, the steam filling the air around them not helping at all, and the lower his mouth crept, the more she started to worry that she might not be able to keep her leg straight through whatever was coming.

He was back fully on his knees by the time his kisses had travelled to her stomach and her fingers had tangled in his wet mess of hair. His intentions were clear in how he pushed at her good leg, then kissed down over her hip and spent a few moments teasing her inner thigh before pulling back and looking up at her. She could have moaned just from how he looked, heavy-lidded and dazed with apparently pent-up desire, that indescribably filthy look that she had so missed overcoming his face before he went back to her thigh. He started closer to her knee and worked his way up, face turned to the side so that she could see every kiss, and yet something else caught her eye in the midst of the sweet sensations and the anticipation of where he was going. It was the slight rocking motion of his right shoulder and arm, but her attention was quickly stolen by his mouth suckling gently but firmly and close but not close enough to where she needed him.

But then he faltered, mouth dropping open against her skin in a shaky moan, and her eyes popped open because usually he only moaned like _that_ when...

_Oh hell_. "Holy crap, are you - "

Before she could blurt out the full question in her head, his mouth finally reaching her robbed her of all coherent thought. She was grateful for the rails on the chair to hold on to, because between finally having this after a long, painful dry spell and watching his right arm work at something she couldn't see and hearing and _feeling_ him moan at what he was doing to himself, she could hardly keep from slipping off the thing and ending up a heap on the floor.

But by some miracle, she didn't fall, and she kept her leg straight throughout the whole experience. It all happened very quickly, possibly a new record set between the two of them, but it was no less intense or satisfying for how fast it was. It only showed how very long six weeks could be.

He stayed on his knees long after she had fallen apart, his face resting on top of her thigh as he quietly panted his way back down to reality. Her fingers, having never left his hair, soothed along the soaked locks as she looked down at him and the look of contentment on his face. She couldn't even be mad at not having been given a chance to be the cause of that look.

When he finally gained the will to move, he lifted his face from her leg and peeked up at her. She had no idea what kind of expression was on her face, but he grinned at her as if she were blushing and also dumbfounded looking. Which she probably was.

Then he grabbed the shower head, rinsed himself and her without a fuss, and then he stood up, kissed her, and turned to flip off the water. She sat there, still quite dazed and half-slumped in the chair, and she watched sleepily as he left the shower for a moment and then came back with a towel around his hips and one in his hand. He dried her injured leg thoroughly and gently, then stepped out again, returning with her brace, which he replaced with the same careful, gentle caution that he had shown all along.

Then, with the brace secure, he wrapped her towel around her body and scooped her up into his arms, asking quietly as he moved them out of the shower, "You okay?"

"I am _so_ okay," she sighed happily, leaning her head against his shoulder. "But I think I need a nap now."

"Okay," he smiled, kissing her forehead. He took her straight to his bed, knowing that she hadn't been kidding about the nap thing, and as soon as he had laid her down in the bed, she let out a moan of pure bliss.

"Oh my God, I _love_ your bed," she said, stretching out and feeling like she was laying in the most luxurious bed in the world. It may as well have been, compared to the hospital bed she'd been in.

"I love that you're in it," he replied, stacking pillows under her bad leg to keep it elevated. Once that was done, he laid down next to her and cradled her to himself as much as he could without bothering the leg. He was still wearing just a towel, as was she, and she smiled sleepily up at him as he pressed a soft kiss to her lips. "And I _love_ that you're home."

"Me too," she replied, placing her hand on his chest and letting it wander as it would. She wished that she wasn't so tired, so that she could stay awake and just touch him, kiss him, revel in being at home, in his bed, alone and intimate and _perfect _despite everything else. But as it was, her eyes were already trying to close, and there was no stopping it, especially with how safe and warm she felt in his arms.

But before she drifted off, she remarked after a yawn, "Next time, feel free to use _my_ hand. Not complaining or anything, but I _could_ have helped you, you know..."

His gentle chuckle was lulling, the faint rumble under her ear pulling her even deeper towards sleep. "You could barely hold up the shower head to rinse my hair."

"... It's the stupid crutches, and six weeks of doing nothing," she weakly protested. "My arms get tired brushing my hair. It's stupid."

"It's fine," he assured her. "You'll get your strength back. I can wait."

"No," she groaned, eyes shut and now half-asleep. "I don't want you to."

"Shh," he said gently, lips brushing her forehead. "Sleep, sweetheart."

Sleep she did, the moment the words left his mouth. And it was the single best nap she had ever had in her life.

* * *

When Summer emerged from the hallway on her crutches exactly two hours after she had left, Sam gave her a look from the kitchen that he was starting dinner in and said, "What did I say? Two hours _exactly_."

David, who had been standing behind Sam and helping, looked up and immediately ran to Summer, making her nervous that was going to run into her and knock her over but he slowed down and carefully avoided her bad leg as he hugged her. She smiled and hugged him back and answered Sam, "I'm sorry. I ended up taking a nap and... yeah. Has David been good?"

"Oh yeah," Sam replied, looking away from the ingredients in front of him as she started hobbling towards the sink. "Hey, you need some help?"

"Maybe," she said, leaning one crutch against the counter and reaching into the cabinet for a cup. "I'm trying to see if I can actually grab a cup of water without dropping it or killing myself."

It wasn't as hard as she had initially thought it might be. Her first problem came, though, when she realized that she _would_ need someone to carry the cup into the other room for her, unless she decided to just put it in her mouth like a dog and take it in that way. And that wasn't that attractive of an option.

Just as she was about to ask David to be her little human cup holder, Natasha walked into the kitchen, and Summer brightened a little and said, "Hey, thanks for the chair! I can't believe you thought of that."

"Oh, no problem. I'm glad it came in handy," Nat replied, grabbing an apple from the counter.

"It did, it helped a lot. I don't know how much it was but I'll totally pay you back -"

Natasha made a face and shook her head. "That's not necessary. And anyway, I got it at a discount. Favor someone owed me."

Natasha had favors in some odd places, but hey, it worked out. Summer nodded, glancing at David as he walked off behind Natasha to grab a rogue toy that he had spotted near the refrigerator. "Okay, well, if you're sure..."

"I am," Natasha reassured her. "How are you feeling?"

"Okay," Summer shrugged, still holding the cup and leaning against the counter on one crutch. "Trying to lay off the meds now but this leg still hurts like a motherfricker."

"Motherfricker," Natasha repeated with amusement.

"Better watch out, motherfrickers," Sam teased. "Only people who mean business use such strong language."

"You know I'm so used to using made up words now I'm not even sure I remember how to actually properly curse," Summer shrugged, taking a sip of her water.

Then, in her peripheral vision, she saw what looked like a man with a vibrant red-colored face and flowing cape literally float by the kitchen, and she promptly dropped her cup to the floor and proved her last statement very wrong by screeching "_Holy shit_!"

Before anyone could explain to her who the floating man-thing was, he stopped in mid air and nodded casually to her. "Hello, Miss McAdams. I hope you are healing well."

She blinked her now-comically wide eyes and looked at Sam and Nat before asking frantically, "What is _that_? Why does he sound exactly like JARVIS? Am I hallucinating?"

"No," Sam shook his head. "He's a... well, everybody's calling him Vision. He's an android... guy. Tony could explain it better than I can."

She turned back to "Vision" and gulped as he said, "I apologize for startling you."

She blinked again, looking at the sparkly jewel-thing on his forehead, and she replied, "Uh... it's... okay?"

"Guys," Natasha said. "I almost don't want to say anything, but... look."

Summer reluctantly tore her eyes away from Vision and then saw something possibly even more shocking - David clinging to Natasha, the boogey-woman herself, for safety.

"_Whoa_," Summer marveled while Natasha smiled and appeared to thoroughly enjoy having finally earned the little boy's trust.

But then Summer began to panic slightly, because Vision noticed David's cowering and big, frightened eyes and was floating his way now. If she'd had use of both of her legs, she would have grabbed David and whisked him away for fear of him having a terror-fueled meltdown, but it all happened too fast and Natasha encouraged David to not be afraid with her hand on his back.

Vision stopped floating, touching his feet to the floor and kneeling down to appear as least threatening as possible. David peeked around Natasha's leg as he said in his calm, smooth voice, "Hello, David. I think I have wanted to meet you for some time now."

Summer's eyes widened again and she looked at Sam, whispering, "Is he actually JARVIS?"

"Tony said he is and isn't," Sam whispered back. "He's got his programming and I guess... memories?" Sam shrugged and added, "He's cool as hell, though, isn't he?"

"You don't need to fear me," Vision said, holding out his hand towards David, who looked at the hand before looking back up into almost-human eyes. "I am like you."

Summer held on to her crutches, expecting the screaming to start any minute, but instead, she was left to admire David's bravery as he reached out and, with the hand not holding on to Nat with a death grip, tentatively touched the hand being offered to him.

A year ago, David would have ran and hidden himself under a couch. But he had grown _so much_ over the last year, and suddenly Summer felt like crying, because despite her guilt over what he had gone through and the loss of his home and much more... he had come out of it all okay, for the most part, and so incredibly brave.

Satisfied with the introduction, Vision drew his hand back and then slowly rose back up, nodding to Natasha. "Miss Romanoff."

She smiled. "If you were looking for Tony, you just missed him. He's in his lab."

"Thank you," he replied, turning towards the elevator but looking back to Summer. "I hope you get well soon, Miss."

"... Thank you?" she said, not meaning for it to sound like a question but seriously, she had _not_ been expecting... this. But he seemed nice. JARVIS-level nice. She wondered if he also had the AI's sass.

As he walked away, maybe deciding to leave the floating for later in case he inadvertently terrified someone else, Bucky emerged from the hallway just in time to see Vision leaving.

"... The hell is that?" he asked, standing next to Summer and staring at the cape trailing behind the being.

"He's basically what Ultron was meant to be," Natasha explained as David left her side to go back to Summer, now that danger wasn't imminent.

"... Is that the 'guy' that Steve said was gonna be moving in?" Bucky asked. Natasha nodded, and he glanced at Summer, who was still gaping like a fish.

"He's like... like... Super-JARVIS. Can I call him that? Would he mind?" she asked nobody in particular.

"I'm not sure he's programmed to mind," Natasha replied.

After a moment of collective silence, Sam glanced down at the sauce that he had simmering on the stove, and then wondered aloud, "Think androids like lasagna? Does the dude even eat?"

"... Does he pee?" Summer asked, continuing the line of questions. "Does he have anything to pee _with_?"

"That _would_ be the first thing you ask," Bucky muttered, amused.

"_Well_," she shrugged. "Sorry, but I'm just saying." Then she blinked and said, "You know, every day, life gets closer and closer to turning into actual Star Trek. I'm not even kidding."

Bucky took care of the water she had spilled on the floor while she rambled about joining Starfleet, and after the unexpected introduction of Vision into her life, the rest of the day fell into more familiar territory. The shared living space filled with only familiar faces for dinner, and she reveled in being home and back among friends, and also the joy that was Sam's cooking.

Bucky and Steve seemed to have gotten past their spat, or at least were ignoring it for the time being. Thor was there and took on the unofficial role of group storyteller over dinner, regaling Summer and the others who hadn't fought Ultron with tales of battle that made her jaw drop. But when he reached the story of the final battle in Sokovia, everyone had eaten their fill, and the story reminded Summer that there was one person who hadn't left her new room all day.

She waited until Bucky had wandered off with Steve and Thor to the living room to get up, because she didn't want to hear him griping at her for not letting him do what she was about to do. She got on her crutches and told David to follow her, and she made her way into the kitchen.

With David's help, she got a plate and loaded it up with food, then handed it to him and grabbed another plate when she noticed that there was one piece of cake left from earlier. She grabbed utensils and then handed the second plate to David, making sure that he had a good hold on the dishes before she remembered to grab a bottle of water from the fridge. She tucked it under her arm and then impressed herself by making out of the kitchen and down the hallway without dropping the bottle once. Maybe she could do this crutches thing and still multitask after all.

Once they made their way to the right room, she came to a stop and checked to make sure that David still had a good grip on the food before she looked at the door and then knocked gently upon it. She didn't expect a response, so when there wasn't one, she cleared her throat and said, "Um... sorry to bother you, but... I'm Summer, you met me earlier, and... I brought you food. And water."

When there was still no answer, she gestured to David to place the plates on the floor, and then she turned back to the door and said, "I'll just leave it outside your door. I know you're going through a really hard time and probably want to be left alone, so... I'll leave you alone. Oh, and there's cake too. You're probably not in the mood for cake, but it's pretty good and it was the last piece, so..." She shook herself to stop rambling already and then said, "Okay. I'll go now."

Turning around on her crutches, she motioned for David to follow her, and he fell into step at her side as they made their way back down the hall. David looked back as they reached the hallway, just in time to see the door open and the new girl look down at the food before looking their way. She looked at him with curious, though puffy and sad, eyes, and even at six years old, he could tell that she was incredibly surprised by the gesture.

Summer didn't see any of it, being too focused on the fact that she was already exhausted and ready to call it a night. Luckily, David didn't have an objection to this, nodding when she asked him if he wanted to go to bed a little earlier tonight. But when she started heading for her room, David shook his head and pointed to the living room, and more specifically, Bucky.

"... You want him to come, too?" she asked, and he nodded. She didn't know why she was surprised. After all, Bucky had been putting him to bed for six weeks now, and it only made sense that he would want to continue that routine.

"Okay," she smiled. "Go get him."

David then ran off, fully prepared to drag Bucky to their room, and she smiled to herself and made her way to her room.

_God_, it was good to be home.

* * *

For some reason, Bucky had expected David to throw him into the metaphorical trash can now that his mother was home. But he had been very wrong.

Rather than being forgotten about, Bucky had been physically dragged into Summer's room and then, once both mother and child were comfortable in bed, found a storybook shoved into his hands.

Then, as if his heart hadn't already been warmed enough, David scooted over to make room for Bucky to sit at his side, with Summer on the other. Book in hand, he sat down in the offered spot, then looked at Summer, whose eyes were suddenly noticeably watery.

He knew why. He had grown closer to David over the last six weeks, closer than he had ever expected to be, but he had thought that things would mostly go back to the way they had been before. He didn't expect David to be so visibly excited at having the two of them put him to bed and read him to sleep, but when he thought about it, it made perfect sense. Every kid wanted two parents, and this one had never had that before.

He still wasn't sure that he was parent material, and the word still made him want to panic inside, but it was hard to panic when the kid was smiling up at him and Summer looked like she was melting into a puddle of happy goo.

It was early in the night, so he ended up having to read through about five different books before David started looking sleepy. Once his eyes started getting heavy, though, he snuggled next to Summer and was out just before Bucky reached the last page. Mission accomplished, Bucky set the book aside and then looked at Summer, who was grinning at him like she knew something he didn't.

"What?"

She shrugged, still smiling as she replied, "Nothing. Nothing at all."

He gave her a look. "Summer."

Her smile widened. "I've never seen you read to him before. I mean, I know you've been doing it for awhile now, but just seeing it and seeing how close you two have gotten... you do realize what all of this does to me, right?"

He shook his head. "Not really."

She paused only for a moment. "It makes me love you even more."

He smiled and looked away, but then she spoke again and her words pulled his gaze back to hers. "No, you don't understand. I didn't think I'd ever have this with _anyone_. I never thought I'd find a guy who could deal with me having an autistic kid, especially since David wouldn't be their kid. Because when it's your own kid that you made, you love them automatically, you know. Or at least you _should_. But when it's not, you have to choose to love them, and that's... that's pretty rare, especially with kids like him." She paused and added, "I always wanted this for him but I never thought he'd have it."

Bucky glanced at the sleeping boy, then said quietly, "I didn't think I could have this either."

And maybe that was why it had worked out the way that it did. Bucky wasn't _normal_ either, and likely never would be. It wasn't something he reached for or cared about. David's eccentricities and quirks and occasional meltdowns didn't scare him away. If anything, it did the opposite. From the beginning, there had always been quiet acceptance between the two of them, and never pressure to be anything other than what they were.

And what Summer didn't know was that long ago, back when he had taken refuge in her home in Virginia, even before she had sparked new life within him with a kiss, it had been the sight of David with aluminum foil wrapped all around his left arm to imitate Bucky's that had first made his heart stir. He hadn't known it then, hadn't been able to recognize it for what it was. Now he could.

He quietly got off the bed, then looped his way over to Summer's side and climbed in next to her. She turned towards him as much as she could with her leg limiting her mobility, and when he drew her into his arms, he saw a tear escape her eye and trail her cheek. "Summer, why -"

"Happy tears," she quickly reassured him with a smile, her fingers sliding to his hair. "Actually, no. Happy Mommy tears."

He chuckled at her correction, then kissed her softly. She held him close and let the kiss linger, letting it turn into several more before she pulled away a little and asked, "Will you stay in here with us tonight? I know you've been sleeping on the floor because you still don't trust your arm, but..."

"I'll stay," he assured her, kissing her again. Regardless of if he would manage any sleep himself, he didn't plan on going anywhere, not now that she was home and back with him, where she belonged.

"Thank you," she smiled, laying her head on his shoulder. "You can read me a story too, if you want. You've got a good voice for it. Almost put me to sleep right with him."

He chuckled, fingers running through her hair. She smelled like herself now, not the hospital, and he could be happy doing nothing but burying his nose in her hair and inhaling the familiar scent. "I could do that."

"Go ahead," she smiled, closing her eyes. "Pick a story. Any story."

He thought for a moment, and maybe if David wasn't asleep next to them, he would have gone a different route, but instead he took a breath and began quietly, "Once upon a time, an idiot with long greasy hair passed out on the front yard of a beautiful, strong, smart, sexy woman's house..."

"Oh my God," she giggled into his shoulder, craning her neck to look up at him. "You mean a sexy but troubled and mysterious man with long _badass_ hair passed out on the front yard of an awkward idiot who hadn't brushed her hair in like two days and literally fell out of her chair the first time she saw you half naked."

He paused. "You did?"

"Yes. You were walking from the bathroom to my bedroom in just a towel and I hit the floor."

He grinned, quite liking this new information. "I didn't know that."

"Well, now you do," she smiled. "My hormones were a mess and I was _very_ deprived, so yeah..."

He nodded, thinking back to that time. While they were on the subject, and while the scent of her hair was still flooding his senses, he figured it was as good a time as any to also tell her something he never had before. "The first time I slept in your bed, in that house... your sheets and your pillow smelled like flowers. I figured out later that it was your hair I was smelling. It helped me fall sleep. That's why I liked smelling your hair so much." He paused. "It's still why."

Surprise etched across her features, she smiled slowly and said, "Why didn't you ever tell me that?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Probably the same reason why you didn't tell me about your chair."

Her smile lingered and she shook her head. "We've come a long way since then."

He nodded, trying not to think how not too long ago, he had thought a car slamming into her had taken all of that away. But here she was, and they were all back under the same roof, and he wouldn't think about the various ways in which that could change. For then, _now_ was all that mattered.

She laid her head back down on his shoulder, and it wasn't long then until she fell asleep. He held her close, listening to the steady sound of her breathing and letting the comforting scent of her hair eventually lull him into his own slumber.

She was finally home. And now he felt like he was too.

**A/N: another slightly filler chapter but less filler than the last one, I hope :) Not much to say today, aside from how excited I am to get my grubby hands on these new (well, new to the MCU) characters and shove them into the already giant "cast" of this story lol. I have my complaints about AOU but Vision &amp; Wanda are definitely not one of them. GAH. Anyway, thank you all for reading &amp; reviewing and sticking with me through these last few slightly slower chapters lol. I've got the second part to the Fire &amp; Whiskey story almost done, so look for that in the next couple of days if you liked that story :) Oh and thank you to midnightwings96 for being her usual fabulous, incredibly helpful self and helping to keep me (and the story) going :D I love you all and will see you next week! :D **


	31. Chapter 31

**Warning for AOU spoilers ahead, which everybody should be used to by now lol, but just in case - you are warned :p Also, a heads-up for what I'm gonna call comedic slash things. Nothing major, of course. Just a friendly heads up :)**

As mornings in the tower went, this one was pretty routine. Summer was sitting at the table, next to David and Bucky, and all of the various other Avengers that lived there were going about their morning, all business as usual. Steve and Tony were bickering over something, Natasha was quietly chatting with Sam over coffee, and Thor was happily listening to Darcy regale him with tales of drunken adventures on her college campus.

Then Bucky's hand was on her knee, and she looked over at him and shared a warm smile before suddenly lightning struck outside and the whole floor went dark. She jumped with surprise, looking around wildly and feeling David all but throw himself on her with his own sudden fear.

Then, the room only lit by the sparse outside light coming in through the windows, a dark figure suddenly emerged from the shadows, near the refrigerator. It had an intimidating silhouette and was cloaked in all black, a mask that hid all but his mouth and chin, and a pointy-eared cowl that gave way to an cape that draped down over his back.

It was... Batman?

Stepping towards Steve and Tony, he spoke then in a deep, gravelly voice and said, "I got your invitation. But I already have my own super secret boy band. It's called the Justice League. And we're better than you."

Tony held up a hand and said, "Now hold on, there, Bat-boy -"

"Batman," he growled in such a ferocious way that made Summer's eyes widen. "My name is Batman. And I'm not interested. Goodbye."

The figure then slunk back into the shadows, but not before adding absentmindedly to Tony, "By the way, I'm richer than you."

Then he was gone, and the lights in the tower came back on. Summer blinked, looking around and wondering where the heck Batman had even gone, but then Steve putting his hands on his hips and huffing stole her attention.

"This is your fault, Tony."

"My fault? How is this my fault? You heard the man... bat. He's got his own posse."

"I knew I shouldn't have left the recruiting up to you. He could have been a real asset."

Tony followed Steve out of the kitchen, and then they both paused in front of the table as Tony replied, "Oh, I'm sorry - do tell me how the Great and Powerful Steve would have gone about recruiting him differently than I did."

"Well for one, I wouldn't have offered him money, because whoever he is, he's obviously already got plenty of it."

"Oh, please, it's obvious who that guy is. Are you _really_ telling me you haven't figured it out yet?"

Steve shrugged. "I don't care who he is. What I cared about was having him on the team."

"Honestly, though, why would we need him?" Tony asked. "Isn't one billionaire enough? Do you just want a raise, because if you do, I could think about maybe throwing you an extra fifty or seventy five cents per -"

"Dammit, Tony, can you ever just take a conversation seriously for once?" Steve asked, exasperated.

"Whoa." Tony's eyes widened in mock outrage. "_Language_, Rogers."

Steve rolled his eyes. "Talking to you never gets me anywhere. I don't know why I even try."

"I don't either. Honestly I'm sick of talking. Remember how that first time on the helicarrier I told you to put on the suit and go a few rounds? Never happened, did it? Maybe we should do it now and get it over with."

Steve scoffed. "Drop it, Tony."

"No," Tony said stepping up closer to him. "I think action's exactly what we need, since words aren't doing it for you. Go ahead, put on the suit."

"Like I actually need my suit to take you on?" Steve raised an eyebrow.

"It's only fair," Tony shrugged. "Come on, old man. I'm waiting."

"Old man, huh," Steve replied, now getting closer to Tony as well, and they were basically in each other's faces now.

Enraptured with the scene, Summer couldn't help but get the feeling that this was getting... weird.

"Prove me wrong," Tony challenged, looking him in the eye.

"Why should I?"

"Well, I haven't had a good laugh yet today, so there's one good reason."

"You've got a real mouth on you, Stark."

"I know," Tony grinned. "You should see what I can do with it besides talking."

Summer froze because Steve suddenly froze. Everybody in the entire room was silent, watching and waiting for one of them to throw a punch or push the other or do _something, _but for a long, tense moment, all they did was stare at each other challengingly and... _weirdly_.

"... Prove me wrong?" Tony then suggested with feigned innocence. Then Steve grabbed him with both hands by the front of his shirt, and with a very loud crash, turned him around and threw him down on the table, right in front of Summer, and she jumped nearly ten feet into the air and let her jaw drop to the floor because now Steve was on top of the man and kissing him almost _violently_.

Then he pulled back some, and Tony looked up at him in seeming equal shock to Summer's. She watched with comically wide eyes and placed her hand over her mouth to cover up an embarrassing gasp when Tony pulled Steve back down, and suddenly they were rather passionately making out in front of a fully engaged audience, right on top of the table.

Bucky stared in pure confusion. Natasha looked stunned and _incredibly_ interested, and Sam appeared merely amused. Darcy was videoing with her phone, and Thor was choking on his coffee. David, carrying on his traditional reactions to seeing _anyone_ kiss, made a face and aggressively ignored what was happening before deciding to simply just leave the room entirely.

Meanwhile, Summer continued to stare, vaguely wondering what Pepper would think of the fact that she was literally watching Steve's tongue insistently work its way into Tony's mouth, and they were both sort of not-so-quietly moaning in the process and feeling each other up like they were alone and like it all actually made sense and this had been building up forever.

Then they broke apart for air, and Tony looked up at Steve and half-gasped, "Holy fu-"

But before he could finish the word, Steve grabbed him by the hair on top of his head and pulled it, knocking his head against the table - which just made the man moan again - and with his other hand, he tore Tony's shirt open at the same time while growling, "Watch your _fucking_ language, Stark."

Then, Summer actually fell out of her chair. In real life, she almost fell off the bed she had been dreaming the whole thing in, but luckily, Bucky was there to catch her before she broke her leg all over again.

"Whoa, whoa," Bucky said, his arms around her securely as he pulled her back into the bed while she gasped and flailed from waking up in the middle of apparently trying to fall off and kill herself. "Calm down."

Breathing heavily and heart pounding, she looked up at him and nodded, bringing her hand to her face and looking down at her leg in its brace to make sure that it was okay, which it was. Then Bucky chuckled quietly and said, "That must have been some dream."

She widened her eyes at him as she settled back into the bed and said, "Steve wanted Batman to join the Avengers but Batman said no, so he got pissed at Tony but they ended up hardcore making out on the kitchen table while we all watched."

Bucky's expression went from confused to disturbed rather quickly. "For God's sake, Summer..."

"I know," she sighed. "That's what I get for taking my pills in the middle of the night." She paused, then peeked up at him. "Although it was kinda..."

"If you say 'kinda hot', Summer, I swear..."

She laughed. "Well, I mean, I gotta be honest, so..."

"No you don't," he assured her. "You really don't."

She laughed again, quieter this time. "Hey, I'm sure you've had some weird dreams too. I can't be the only one, even if mine are drug-induced."

Settling next to her with his elbow propped up on his pillow, head leaning on his hand, he shrugged and said, "Not like _that_."

"Well, if you were dreaming about Steve and Tony, that _might_ be weird," she smiled. "Hey, what time is it?"

He glanced at the clock on her bedside table and said, "Barely 7:30."

"Oh. That's early. I'm starving though. Can you help me get up? David can stay in here and sleep."

Bucky nodded, and thus started her second day back home. The routine stayed much the same as it had in the hospital, with him helping her to the bathroom and assisting with whatever she needed, which thankfully these days wasn't as much as before. She was still just as relieved to be home as she was the day before, and knowing that her normal food and coffee awaited out in the kitchen made her more excited than she thought was normal.

Still in pajamas and maneuvering down the hallway on her crutches, she and Bucky headed towards the kitchen, which was usually empty this early in the morning. Today, however, it wasn't, and Summer was surprised to see one of the tower's newest occupants quietly trying to find something edible for breakfast.

"Hi," Summer said quietly to Wanda, who was standing over a bowl of fruit on the island and, by the look on her face, hadn't wanted to run into anyone while venturing out of her room.

She looked from Summer to Bucky, the latter of which looked decidedly more neutral and less overtly friendly than the former. She glanced for the briefest of moments at his left arm and then muttered a quiet hello before looking away.

"Sorry about the food situation," Summer said, getting out of the way as Bucky looked away from the other woman and headed towards the coffee machine. "Normally I make breakfast for everybody but... yeah, can't really do that at the moment."

Wanda looked back up at her, and Summer had the impression that she was surprised that Summer was still speaking to her. But she then quietly replied, "Thank you, for last night. I opened the door and saw you leaving. You didn't have to do that."

Bucky glanced behind him at Summer, not knowing what they were taking about, and Summer shrugged as best as she could on top of crutches. "It was no problem. I mean, you've gotta eat too, and I remember how weird it was to first move here myself. Not that it was under nearly as bad circumstances as you, but -" Wanda looked down then, and Summer cringed and rambled, "I'm sorry. Steve told me what happened, so... I'm really sorry. When I came here it was because HYDRA blew up my house, which sucked but was definitely not as bad. Obviously."

Wanda then looked at her, expression puzzled, and glanced down at her leg before asking, "HYDRA? Are you... an agent, like the other Avengers?"

She laughed. "Oh, me, no. Definitely not. I'm not an Avenger. I just live with them. It's a long story. But hey, why don't you come sit down at the table with me, and we can talk? Talking helps."

Wanda looked like she wanted to say no, but then Summer limped off towards the table, and apparently it was hard to say no to a girl on crutches who had personally delivered dinner to one's door the previous night.

Summer managed to get somewhat comfortable at the table, leg propped up on another chair, and Wanda sat down quietly across from her, having only brought a banana with her from the kitchen. She looked down at it like it was fascinating, and it didn't look like an act, either.

"... Do you not like bananas, or..."

"I don't know," she replied. "I have never had one. We didn't have them back home."

"Oh," Summer nodded. "Right. That makes sense."

"Sometimes we had banana flavored things," she added. "Cheap cookies and candy, but not the real thing. My brother liked them but I didn't. He always wanted to try a real one."

"I'm sorry," Summer said quietly. Wanda then blinked and shook her head slightly, like she wished she hadn't said anything, and Summer said, "Steve said he died a hero."

Wanda nodded, looking down at the fruit and now fighting tears, and Summer wished she had steered the conversation somewhere else. Her first time talking to the girl, and all she had managed to do was remind her of her brother, who had died barely a week ago.

"Well, since you've never had bananas before, I'll make you something with them. Banana bread or something," Summer said, trying to lighten the mood. "Well, _I_ won't make it, but I can direct somebody else how to do it."

Wanda then glanced at her and said, "You don't have to be so nice to me."

"Yeah, he used to try to say that, too," Summer shrugged, pointing to Bucky in the kitchen with her thumb. "But that's my thing. I can't be stopped."

Then Summer smiled, and Wanda glanced at the kitchen and asked, "Is he an agent?"

Her lack of knowledge as to who Bucky was was all the proof Summer needed to know that Wanda really had known nothing of HYDRA's true inner workings. "He's the Winter Soldier. So... yeah, kinda. He passed out in front of my house when he was on the run, and I let him stay with me. Things kind of went from there."

A bit of recognition passed through the other woman's eyes. "Winter Soldier?"

Bucky was listening carefully from the kitchen but pretending not to. Summer nodded. "Yeah. Heard of him?"

"I heard Strucker speak of him," she replied. "Only once. Something about..." she furrowed her brows in thought. "An old asset turning against HYDRA, I think."

"Sounds about right," Summer nodded. "They tried to kill him twice while he was with me. Almost killed my son the first time, and the second time they blew up my house. He barely got us out in time."

After Summer finished, Bucky walked to the table and set down a cup of coffee and a giant muffin in front of her. She thanked him, then watched in surprise as he set down a second cup in front of Wanda, who looked up at him in equal surprise before thanking him. He nodded and then sat down next to Summer, and Wanda shifted a little in her seat as she took her cup in hand.

"My brother - Pietro," she said quietly, "he wanted to volunteer before I did. I had my doubts and he did too, but they convinced us both. They used Captain America as an example of what they could do. Said they could take us and turn us into powerful defenders of our country, like him during World War II. I never thought they were _good_, but..."

Summer glanced at Bucky, who remained stoic upon this new information, but at least didn't seem as against Wanda as he had been the day before. She then said, "They told Bucky similar things." She glanced at him again to make sure he wasn't opposed to her telling part of his story, and he didn't seem like he was. "Like that he was saving the world and bringing freedom to it by assassinating people."

Wanda listened to her, then looked at Bucky before asking quietly, "Did you volunteer, too?"

He took a calm drink of his coffee before replying, "No, I died. Then they found me and put this," he looked down at his arm briefly, "on me and fried my brain until I did what they wanted."

Wanda paled a little bit. "Oh."

"He's also like 99 years old," Summer supplied helpfully. "Cryogenic preservation crap."

Wanda stared for a moment then before looking back down at her drink and saying, "I never knew what they really were. They made themselves seem like saviors until they put us in cages. And even then, they..."

When she faltered, unable to find the right words, Bucky took a guess and finished, "Made you believe it was for your own good?"

She nodded, seemingly surprised that he understood. "Yes."

He didn't say anything else, and Summer looked at Wanda and asked after a moment's pause, "What exactly _can_ you do? Steve explained it but it sounds... impossible."

When the other woman hesitated, Summer opened her mouth to say never mind, but before she could get a word out, Wanda looked down and one of her hands started glowing dark red. Summer then watched with her mouth hanging open as Wanda levitated the cup of coffee in front of her. It floated lazily up into the air, and her hand moved to keep it steady and not let a single drop spill from it as it hovered there.

"... _Wow_," Summer marveled. "I know HYDRA's evil and all, but that's _really_ cool."

Wanda then let the cup float down, back to the table, and it landed with a barely audible, gentle thud. "That's only part of it," she said quietly. "I don't know the real scope of it yet."

Before Summer could reply, the elevator doors across the room opened unexpectedly, and Clint and Natasha came walking in. Summer blinked in surprise, thinking they must have all gotten up to do who knows what before the sun had even risen, but the first thing she noticed was how Wanda visibly relaxed a little when she saw Clint walk into the room.

"Glad you're up," Natasha said to Bucky and Summer, heading towards the table. "I've got news on the driver that hit you."

They both suddenly straightened up a little, and Nat went on, "He woke up from his coma yesterday. But, according to my contact, he doesn't remember enough of the accident to give a detailed description of his attacker."

All within less than a minute, Summer went from having a panic attack to sagging her shoulders with relief. Bucky relaxed too, but only minutely compared to her.

"Of course, this could change, but... for now, you're safe," Natasha concluded.

Bucky nodded. "Is he gonna be okay?"

"They say he's got a lot of physical therapy in his future, but they expect him to recover eventually."

Summer didn't miss the look of relief on Bucky's face. It was more substantial than the relief that had been there when Natasha had said that the kid didn't remember anything.

"Thank you," Bucky said quietly, and Natasha nodded before turning towards Wanda and smiling at her and Clint, who had been talking to her.

"Ready?" Natasha asked them, and Wanda nodded, standing up from the table while looking back to Summer and mustering up a small but determined smile.

"Thank you for... talking," Wanda said, and Summer smiled back and nodded.

"Yeah, no problem. And I mean it about the banana bread."

"Wait, who's making banana bread?" Clint asked, suddenly interested.

"You don't even say hi and yet I mention food and now I exist," Summer teased, feigning offense.

"Oh, hell," Clint groaned, then ambled over to her side of the table and surprised her by giving her an actual hug, her first from him. "Sorry. I've had a hell of a week."

"I heard," Summer said, patting his back as he pulled away. "You getting back to the farm soon?"

"Yeah, in awhile," Clint replied. "First I'm helping Nat get Wanda settled in. Gonna get her out of the tower for awhile and get her some stuff she needs."

Summer nodded, then said, "Okay. Well, don't head back to the farm without saying goodbye first."

"I won't." He glanced at Bucky then and asked, "How you liking my piano?"

"Haven't gotten a chance to play it yet," Bucky shrugged.

Clint then pointed at him and said in mock-seriousness, "Hey - don't slack off on your therapy, man. Two or three times a week. Don't make me tell Connor on you. When was the last time you even talked to him?"

Bucky paused and muttered, "... Few weeks."

"I'll kick your ass," Clint said. "Seriously. The minute you don't think you need therapy anymore is usually the moment you need it most."

"Okay, okay," Bucky held up his hands in surrender. "I got it."

"Good," Clint replied. "All right. See you guys later."

As Clint and the others left, Summer looked at Bucky and asked, "Have you really not seen your doctor in weeks?"

He shifted slightly uncomfortably. "It's not a big deal. I went twice after your accident. I just didn't have time with David."

"Okay, well... don't make me worry," she said. "And me and David will give you some time with the piano later. We'll get out of your hair for awhile."

"You're not in my hair," he smiled. "I don't mind helping. You know that."

"Yes, but you've been taking care of us, so consider this me taking care of you," she smiled, and he nodded understandingly. Then she leaned her head on his shoulder, and that was when the elevator dinged again, and this time, Steve and Tony stepped off of it.

She watched them a little more closely than usual, suddenly reminded of her very vivid dream starring the two of them, and appropriately enough, they wandered towards the fridge while bickering at each other.

"I don't know. I like it the way it is. But with Fury's help..."

"We're talking basically about a new SHIELD," Steve said, opening the fridge door. "And that's great, but the public already doesn't trust anyone associated with that name. And isn't Fury still technically dead?"

"Well, to be fair, I think all of us were legally dead at some point," Tony shrugged.

"I know, but I'm just wondering how this is gonna work. Reinventing SHIELD and calling it Avengers Headquarters or whatever you said - that's gonna require a lot of transparency. Can't be led by a dead guy."

"No, but you can't lead _everything_, either."

Steve paused halfway through a sip of orange juice. "Did I say I wanted to lead it?"

"You want to lead everything," Tony pointed out. "If a political party wooed you to run for president, you wouldn't be able to resist. If you had been able to lift Thor's hammer, you'd be King of Asgard now."

Steve scoffed. "I'm not a big fan of capes."

"Or delegating." At Steve's half-glare, Tony shrugged. "Just an observation. I'm curious, though - the whole leader thing. Does that apply to your relationships too? I don't see Nat as much of a submissive type."

"No, she's not. But you don't seem to have a problem following my orders most of the time," Steve noted casually, strolling out of the kitchen towards the table.

Summer straightened up and watched carefully, feeling an odd sense of déjà vu.

"... I'm not following," Tony said, following the other man.

"You asked me if I'm dominant in my relationships," Steve replied. "I'd say I am in ours."

Tony opened his mouth to dispute this, then paused and stared off at the wall. "Damn it. How did this happen? Pepper's the only one I'm supposed to let boss me around."

Steve shrugged. "Maybe you secretly like it."

Tony shrugged back. "Maybe."

Her hands slightly out and pretending to smush the two of them together, Summer then accidentally said out loud, "Now kiss!"

They immediately stopped and looked her way, confusion etched on their faces. She stared at them blankly, hands in midair, feeling like an idiot and wondering how she was going to explain this one.

"Now _what_?" Steve asked, genuinely confused.

"Um..."

"Have you been spending too much time on the Internet, kid?" Tony asked. "Should I have a look at your browser history?"

She then smiled nervously and shrugged. "Nope. Not at all. Ignore me."

Then Bucky decided to be a traitor and said, "She dreamed that you two hooked up on the table in front of everybody."

She turned towards Bucky and stared in outrage while he merely shrugged in innocence. Steve's eyebrows shot up into his hair and he looked even more confused now, but Tony grinned and slapped a hand on his shoulder.

"That's great. Maybe she's on to something. What do you think, Cap? Is our constant arguing just a sign of something much deeper simmering under the surface?"

Steve maneuvered away from his hand and replied, "I _genuinely_ hope not. Good God."

"Hey, I'm just saying," Tony said, following Steve and thoroughly enjoying this. "Pepper probably wouldn't mind, as long as she could watch." At Steve's even more horrified look, he added, "For that matter, I bet Nat wouldn't mind either. We could invite them both and just see what happens. No harm, right? We'll call it a team-building exercise."

"You need help," Steve said, doggedly trying to make his way to the hallway. Summer could barely contain her giggles.

"I know. Wanna give me some?" Tony waggled his eyebrows.

Steve made a face and, not watching where he was going, walked straight into a wall. The wall cracked slightly and he stumbled back a little bit from the sheer surprise of actually walking into a wall, and Tony doubled over laughing at his expense.

Steve tried to shake it off, then looked at Summer and said, "This is your fault, Summer."

She held up her hands and laughed. "Yeah, guilty. Sorry!"

Steve then examined the crack in the wall and said, "Well... damn. Guess I'll pay for this one."

Tony couldn't resist. "I can think of several ways you can pay for it."

Steve then sighed and looked at Tony wearily. "You're never going to stop now, are you?"

He grinned and shook his head. "Never."

"Wonderful," Steve muttered before heading down the hallway towards his room, resigning himself to a lifetime of inescapable innuendoes from Tony Stark.

Once he was gone, Tony turned towards Summer, still gleefully smiling, and said, "Thank you. You have truly given me a gift. I guess now we're even."

She smiled back, then asked, "Even?"

"Yeah. You know, for accidentally turning your boyfriend's arm into a custom made sex toy."

She sputtered a little and wished that her stupid face would give her a break and stop turning red at every freaking opportunity. "Oh right. That. Yup. Okay. Even."

Tony then suddenly looked at her with an eyebrow raised and asked, "Hey, want to help me with something?"

"Uh... sure?"

The next thing Summer knew, Tony had pulled up the seat next to hers and then all three of them were peering at her phone as she typed in search terms on her browser according to Tony's rather questionable instructions.

Before she hit the search button, she looked at Tony and asked nervously, "Do I really want to be looking this up?"

"You do," he assured her. "But I'm not responsible for any other dreams the things you're about to see may trigger."

She hesitated and looked to her other side, at Bucky, who shrugged and said, "Just as long as you don't fall off the bed again."

She then sighed and looked back to her phone and, biting the bullet, hit the search button.

And she then promptly felt her jaw hit the floor.

Bucky made a groaning sound and looked away, covering his eyes with his hand, and Tony slapped the table and started laughing, but all Summer could do was stare open-mouthed at the many images on her phone screen.

"... I thought you were kidding," she said, scrolling down and feeling her face turn even redder than it already was.

"Would I kid about something as serious as the legions of people who draw me in various sexual situations with one of my closest colleagues?" Tony retorted. "Lemme see that."

She handed him the phone, then looked at Bucky, who had his elbow on the table and was leaning his head on it with a vaguely tortured look on his face, and she was about to laugh, but then Tony whooped loudly and nudged her shoulder.

"Look at this one. Saving it for sure."

Bracing herself, she looked, then squeaked and covered her face with her hands. "Oh my God!"

"We're on a table and everything. Is that what you dreamed?"

She peeked through her fingers and then nodded. "That's basically exactly what I dreamed." Then she dropped her hands and looked a little closer. "... That's actually very good art. Like whoa. It looks _just_ like you two."

"Hey, I'm not knocking this stuff," Tony replied. "These are obviously created by very talented people with very good taste in men."

She stifled a laugh, then froze when Tony started pushing buttons on her phone. "What are you -"

"He'll expect it coming from me, but not you. Just wait until he sees the ten or so texts I just sent him from your phone."

Grinning wickedly, Tony then handed her phone back to her, and she looked at the aforementioned ten texts and felt her eyes almost fall out of her head. He'd sent the artistically best ones, but half of them were... well... quite explicit, to say the least. One was, in fact, so incredibly detailed that she clicked it and then showed it to Bucky, saying, "Look at this - this is like _whoa_, man."

Bucky looked for half a second before flinching and looking away. "God, Summer, what the - I did _not_ need to see that."

"Yes you did! I saw it, so you have to see it too."

"No."

"Yes. And look at the detail and how big Steve's -"

Suddenly, Steve burst into the room from the hallway, wearing a traumatized expression and holding out his phone as evidence as he asked, "_Summer why_?!"

"It wasn't me!" she squeaked and then pointed at Tony. "It was him!"

Tony then smiled dazzlingly at Steve and said, "Yes, dear?"

Steve then narrowed his eyes and, phone still in hand, said, "I'm gonna find a way to get you back for this."

"Bring it on, Capsicle."

Steve then looked from Summer to Bucky, whose face still looked quite pinched, and Steve guessed, "You've seen it too?"

Bucky nodded. "I'll never _not_ see it now."

Steve sighed, then turned to head back down the hallway. Once he disappeared from their sight, he yelled, "And for the record - those were all wrong anyway. I'd be on top!"

Then his door shut, and Summer burst out laughing again, right along with Tony.

"Okay," Tony laughed, "Note to self - find more Top Steve pics to send. But see, I was right. Always gotta be the damn leader, even in hypothetical relationships with other dudes."

"Well, he is Captain America, so..." Summer shrugged. Then she wondered aloud, "You think that with him and Nat it's like a constant power struggle but in a really good way and they just like destroy each other every night?"

"No," Tony shook his head. "Because if he's the one person I'm okay with taking orders from - most of the time - then she's probably the one person he's like that with. She probably issues commands in Russian and he eats it up." He paused. "No pun intended."

"Well, being bossed around in Russian is pretty... fun." She then blushed and looked away, _feeling_ rather than seeing Bucky's faint grin, but then her phone rang and finally saved her from this entire awkward but hilarious situation. "Oh, that's my brother! Bucky, can you help me back to my room?"

He nodded, and as he helped her up from the table, she answered her phone and said, "Thank God you called. I'm pretty sure I was about to embarrass myself even more than I already have today."

"It's only like nine in the morning your time - are we starting the humiliation early today?"

"Oh yeah," she confirmed, balancing the phone on her shoulder as she headed down the hallway. "You don't even want to know. So what's up?"

"A lot, actually. I have news."

She paused. "If you already knocked Sarah up _again_..."

"No no, not that. Though not for lack of trying."

She grimaced. "Ugh, _Paul_..."

"Sorry. But anyway. So. Yeah, I've got news. You ready?"

Bucky opened her door for her and she headed inside, smiling, "Yeah, I'm waiting."

"I got a new research fellowship. It's a pretty big deal. Great for my career, and a raise too. And guess where it is?"

"Um... maybe LA, or..."

"Nope. Guess again."

She sighed, checking on David who was squirming in the bed a little as he slowly woke up. "Uh... San Francisco. Sacramento. San Diego. Another city there that starts with an S."

"Nope. Think two words. First one starts with an N. Last one ends with a K."

She paused on her crutches and suddenly froze, staring into space as she said, "If you're saying what I think you are..."

"I am. We're moving to New York."

Her jaw dropped and, maybe because Bucky could hear Paul through the phone at her ear, he helpfully assisted her in sitting down on the bed before she fell over in shock. "If you're lying to me, I swear to God, I will find you and I will kill you."

"I'm not. It's a two year fellowship, and we've already found some renters for our house, so we're gonna lease it out and then find a place out there in New York. We're actually gonna be there next week to look at some rentals, because I gotta be there for the job in a month."

"A month?!" she repeated, looking up at Bucky with a stupid smile on her face. "I can't believe this! But Sarah's got family in California, and..."

"Yeah, I know. We talked about it and she'll fly out a lot to see her parents, but she agreed that I needed to be close to my family too. Especially with you being in a long recovery now."

Summer smiled and felt silly at the tears suddenly behind her eyes, but this was the sort of news she had given hope of hearing a long time ago. It was incredibly surreal. "I don't even know what to say. How long have you known?"

"About ten minutes," he laughed. "I just got off the phone with the new job. I called Sarah first and then I called you."

"When did you apply for it? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I applied before your accident," Paul replied. "But when that happened it just convinced me even more that I needed to be there with you. It's been too long since we've lived in the same state."

"Yeah it has. Oh my God. I'm still in shock. I would jump up and down and scream but then my doctor would hunt me down."

"Yeah, don't do that. But I'm glad I could brighten your day some."

She beamed. "Consider my day as bright as your hair."

"... That's pretty bright, not gonna lie. But hey, I only had a minute to call you and I gotta get back to work, but I'll call you later, okay?"

"Okay!" she replied happily. "Gah. I still can't believe this."

"Me either. Who would have thought we'd end up in New York together? But anyway, I really gotta go."

"Okay, bye," she laughed, and when Paul hung up, she set her phone down and then looked at Bucky with a stubborn smile on her face. It was infectious apparently, because he grinned back at her.

"He got the job?"

"Yeah, he... wait. Did you know about it? How?"

"He told me was trying to get a job here while he was here visiting you," Bucky explained, sitting next to her.

"Oh," she said, surprised. Then she joked, "Well, geez. Way to keep me in the loop."

"I don't think he wanted to get your hopes up in case he didn't get it," Bucky said.

She smiled and then said, "And I guess you didn't either." He shook his head, and she was still smiling like an idiot when she said, "Man. Having this crap leg sucks and all, but with this and the... kid not remembering you... things are starting to look pretty good again."

Bucky nodded, smiling a little though the subject of the driver sobered his expression some. She smiled back, knowing that the kid could still remember and make things difficult for them, but for the moment, she chose to look on the positive side and enjoy the fact that things were, for now, starting to be okay again.

* * *

Later that day, at Summer's insistence, Bucky closed himself in his room with the intent to finally get started on the hobby that was replacing dancing until Summer got back on her feet. It wasn't that he didn't want to get started on it. He just wasn't sure if it would quite work the way he had first hoped it would.

He glanced at the piano in the corner and then ignored it for the time being, opting instead for trying to clear his head first. The truth was, he hadn't been truly alone since before Summer's accident. He'd had David acting as his second shadow, and while it had been an adjustment, he didn't mind it or resent it. It simply made now being alone within the four walls of his own room feel considerably stranger than it would have before the accident had changed everything.

He ended up throwing an album on the record player that Steve technically owned but let Bucky keep in his room, and then he sat on the side of his bed and pulled out his box of letters and other items from his past.

He'd read through more than half the letters by now, but he hadn't a chance to read much more of them as of late. He could have binged and read them all on the birthday he'd received them on, but he had decided on taking it slow in the hopes of being able to focus on each piece of paper and the individual memories they might jog. So far, he had remembered quite a bit thanks to the letters, from Vivian's struggle to accept his decision to run back into the war with Steve after his first stint as a prisoner of war, to his sister's tales of life at home while he was gone, and his mother's bittersweet hopes for his safe homecoming. Each letter was a piece, however tiny, of the puzzle that was his old life, and the piano sitting in his room was a result of that.

He found the letter where his mother had spoken of teaching him to play as a boy, and he reread it carefully, with enough concentration to almost burn a hole into the weathered paper. The first time he had read it, he'd had the briefest flash of sitting next to her in front of a piano, his much smaller hands being gently guided by her. But the problem with those flashes was that they went as soon as they came, and he had spent so long trying to recapture those images in his head that now he could barely see them at all.

He clenched his jaw slightly and folded the letter back up, putting it back into the box and then running his hand over his face as he let his head fall back against the wall behind him. He listened to the slow, pleasant melody of the old song playing softly through the room, and eventually, after a few more minutes spent in quiet inaction, he got up from the bed.

He turned off the record player, then exhaled heavily as he finally made his way to the piano. He decided to hope for the best as he pulled out the narrow bench in front of it and then sat down. The first thing he did was look down at his hands and wonder if he even could play half-decently with a metal hand.

Dr. Connor had approved of the piano idea for several reasons, one of which being the idea that it would help dexterity and normal function of his very abnormal left hand. It would help teach him to use it as delicately as he did his right, to apply the same pressure and care with the metal fingers and not accidentally crush the keys due to a moment's forgetfulness. And that was definitely an incentive for a man who was still fearful of accidentally hurting the woman he loved with that hand.

But still... would it work? He had his doubts, but there was only one way of finding out.

Taking a breath, he reached his right hand towards the keys and, replaying the melody of the last song in his head, took his time before pressing down on any of the keys. When he finally did, pushing one down and hearing the soft sound that resulted, he opened his eyes and stared at the keys. Then, still hearing the melody in his head, he played around with the other keys, testing his memory and ability to figure it out.

After a few moments, he started mumbling lyrics quietly under his breath, trying to match them to the tentative rhythm he had managed to string together. Then, he looked at his left hand and brought it to the left side of the keys, again testing the waters. It took a lot of fumbling with the wrong pitches and much trial and error to get to anything sounding even slightly right, but he kept at it, determined to get _somewhere_.

The decreased sensitivity of his left hand made pressing the keys feel strange, but the metal fingers fit the space the same way his others did. He was used to consciously making sure to use equal force and gentleness with that hand as to his right, so it was good further practice in that sense. It took some more moments of trial and error to get it right, but in the end, he was playing something that sounded like the the original music, if imperfect and slower. But perfection wasn't the goal.

The smallest of smiles appeared on his face then, as he repeated the notes over and over, trying to get them just right. He had been doubtful that it would really come back to him, thinking that maybe getting the piano at all was a silly idea, but it felt familiar. It didn't bring a sudden wave of memories rushing back, but the familiarity alone was enough to have made it worthwhile. It was another piece of him, a piece of who he used to be, and it was calming. Before he knew it, an hour had passed by, and a text from Summer asking for his help whenever he was done signaled the end of the pleasant time to himself.

Feeling considerably better than he had when he had first come to his room, he left the piano and headed for his door. He'd have to thank Clint later for having what he was pretty sure now had been a very good idea.

* * *

Summer had never seen Thor so excited in all her relatively brief time of knowing him. He was all but bouncing on his feet, even while sitting down on the same couch that she and David were on, and she looked from him to the "synthetic human" sitting on the opposite couch, who held a mug in his hands.

"What did you say this drink is called?" Vision asked, looking into the cup curiously.

"It is coffee," Thor smiled. "And it is most delicious. Try it!"

Vision, apparently very trusting of the man, then gamely took a drink, and Thor eagerly awaited his reaction while Summer just worked on keeping her millions of questions inside of her head. David kept an eye on the newcomer in their midst while also playing on his tablet, and all eyes were on Vision as he contemplated the sip of coffee that he had just taken.

"It is... pleasant," Vision decided. "Bitter, but... bold and... quite flavorful."

"You should totally write the descriptions that come on the package," Summer said, unable to help herself.

"I told you it is delicious! It is one of my favorite things that I have tried on Earth. I may bring some with me when I go home, to see if we can grow it there."

Summer's eyes widened. "Asgardian coffee? Holy crap. Actually - what _do_ you drink there?"

"Many of the same things you do here - tea, juices, wine, liquor, even milk. Though they all are different and the liquor more potent, of course."

Her eyes got even bigger and she chuckled. "Oh wow. I'd probably get drunk just from sniffing the wine, then."

"Possibly. It is certainly not meant for small mortal women."

"Yeah, I bet..." She paused and then furrowed her brows. "Hey, wait, I'm not small!"

"Well," Thor amended, "compared to the average Asgardian female, you are relatively small."

She was about to scoff when something large, black, and shiny scuttling along the floor near the foot of her good leg caught her peripheral vision, and her scoff turned into a high pitched squeak of terror as her leg shot up to the couch and she screeched, "Roach! Roach! Giant roach!"

David, in his similar instant terror, let his tablet fall to the floor and leapt on top of the back of the couch for safety from the bug, and Thor jumped to his feet in pure confusion. "What is happening? What is a roach?"

She pointed at the floor where the thing was running towards the other couch and yelled, "That! _That_ is a roach! Huge evil bug! _Kill it!"_

Then suddenly Thor's hammer was in his hand, and he nodded to Summer, saying, "Ah, I understand. Stay calm, I shall slay the beast."

"I'll be calm after you slay it," she said, feeling distinctly vulnerable in her immobile state. The bug could come crawling up the couch and she would have literally nowhere to run, because she _couldn't_ run.

"Slay what?" she heard Bucky ask, suddenly appearing behind her as he walked into the living room.

"That!" she said, pointing to the floor where Thor was about to actually smack the hammer down on top of the roach. But before it could make contact with the floor and likely damage it, the roach then suddenly flew up into the air, and Summer half-screamed, "Oh God, it's a flying one!"

"It flies?!" Thor exclaimed, chasing after the roach as it flew across the room.

"Wait, wait," came Darcy's voice, who had apparently heard the chaos from the kitchen, where she had been. She was armed with a bottle of window cleaner as she stormed into the living room. "I've got this. I've lived in some really questionable apartments and have a lot of experience in roach killing."

Summer watched as Darcy sprayed the bug in mid-air, but the roach only got angry at the assault and then dive-bombed her. She screeched and ran away, smacking into Sam in the process, who was next on the scene, armed with a shoe.

"Everybody calm down," Sam said evenly, eyes following the roach's path as it flew up towards the ceiling. "I'm an Avenger now. I can handle a roach."

"I wouldn't be so sure," Thor said gravely. "This is a determined creature. Ah, it just landed!"

It landed on the wall across the room, and Sam smacked it with the shoe with a resounding thud. However, the roach survived and flew away, this time towards Summer, who squeaked and covered her head with both arms and tried not to weep in sheer terror.

It ended up landing on the coffee table in front of her instead, and Bucky came around the couch and punched it with his metal fist. It flew away in time to save itself, unfortunately, so he ended up succeeding only in punching a hole into the corner of the table.

"Okay, it can't be _this_ hard to kill a damn roach," Sam muttered, watching the thing fly around the room.

"Since when do these things fly?" Bucky wondered aloud, ready to demolish something else to kill the thing, just as Thor also was.

"It's flying days are numbered," Thor announced, but before he could knock it out of flight with his hammer, suddenly Vision was there, in the middle of the three men, floating and calmly, gently, trapping the roach in his hand.

Everyone in the room fell silent then, including Summer, who watched with wide eyes as Vision then touched his feet back to the floor and quietly walked over to a window. He pushed it up, then released the roach into the night, and after closing the window and turning to find everybody staring at him, he explained, "I do not like killing if it can be avoided. It was an innocent being."

Nobody seemed to be able to find anything to possibly refute that with, though Summer took issue with a giant flying roach being deemed "innocent", since it was actually pure evil personified. Still, Thor frowned and sat down, appearing to be in sudden debate of his own morality, and Sam and Bucky both were staring at Vision with a mixture of quiet fascination and lingering confusion over the fact that he existed in the first place. Then Vision made his way back to the couch, sat down, and finished drinking his coffee.

After Bucky sat down next to her, Summer looked at him and said quietly, "Man, this place is getting weird. Not a bad weird. Just... dang."

He nodded his agreement. Then the night got considerably weirder.

Natasha came home soon after the roach battle, but Clint and Wanda were still out. Steve emerged from his room and met Nat in the kitchen, where they were talking quietly, and Summer didn't _mean_ to eavesdrop from the couch. But she did.

"Just do what I told you," Natasha said lightly.

"I will, I just... hope I'm actually convincing. Otherwise I'll just be embarrassing myself."

"You're a pretty determined guy... you'll do fine. I'm looking forward to this, actually."

"Looking forward to seeing me make an idiot of myself?"

"No... just looking forward to see how far you'll go. How committed to this you are."

"Well, I'm not gonna kiss him, if that's what you're thinking."

Summer widened her eyes and tried to listened more closely. Which guy was Steve not gonna kiss? What were they even talking about?

Before she could eavesdrop more, the elevator dinged and the conversation ended. Tony then strolled into the room with a man that she hadn't formally met as of yet, but she knew from media coverage that he was the guy otherwise known as War Machine. He glanced into the living room, looking first at Vision, then her, and at David who was still perched on top of the back of the couch, and she translated the look on his face to be something along the lines of _man, this place is getting weird_.

She still didn't get introduced, instead watching from over the back of the couch as Tony wandered into the kitchen and said happily, "Honey, I'm home! _Honey_ being you, Cap."

Steve shared one very brief glance with Natasha before smiling pleasantly at Tony as a response.

"Next time, I expect you to have a martini in your hand and high heels on to welcome me home," Tony shrugged, heading for the liquor cabinet. Apparently the flirting and innuendoes from earlier were still happening. "Just saying."

"Right." Steve nodded. "Sorry about that. Just was so distracted waiting for you to get back."

"Yeah, that's a common problem," Tony said over his shoulder. "Right, Rhodey?"

"I honestly have no idea how I'm supposed to answer that," he said. "I'm gonna go talk to Thor. You're getting a little too weird, even for me."

"Yeah, yeah, have fun." Summer then watched as Tony grabbed a drink for himself and one for Steve also, offering it to him as he leaned against the counter next to him. "So, about those high heels..."

"Red and gold, right?" Steve quipped. "Not a big fan of gold but I can deal with the red."

Tony raised an eyebrow and said, "You know, if you think you're gonna put me off by going along with my creepy flirting, you're very wrong. It's gonna backfire."

Steve took a sip while Natasha kept a non-obvious eye on them from the table. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Mhmm. So. Have I told you lately how much I want to spangle your stars?"

Summer stifled a laugh with her hand over her mouth. She glanced over and found Bucky watching as well, growing confusion on his face.

Surprisingly, Steve didn't miss a beat. "No, but you can tell me now. I figured you were into dirty talk."

"Well, who isn't?" Tony asked "I bet even you have a dirty mouth from time to time."

"You got me," Steve replied. "Filthy mouth. Just _filthy_."

"You should show me sometime," Tony winked.

"Your room or mine?" Steve asked, not the slightest hint of a laugh or waver in his voice.

"Who needs a room?" Tony retorted. "Let's just kick these other people out and go to town right here."

At this point, everybody with the exception of David and Vision were staring at the whole spectacle, and Steve set his drink down with a thud before standing closer to Tony, apparently taking his suggestion quite seriously. "What are you waiting for?"

Summer's eyes were as huge as they'd been in her dream as she watched them stare each other down, dwindling space between them as Tony said, "Waiting on you, old man."

This was getting almost _creepily_ similar to her dream, she noted as Steve then chuckled darkly and leaned in closer. "We'll see about that."

With both of them very slowly leaning in as if for a kiss, Tony said, "Is this Gay Chicken? If this is Gay Chicken, you should know that I'm the king of this. Just ask Rhodey."

Rhodey looked around at the eyes suddenly on him and shrugged.

"How about you shut up?" Steve said, still inching closer, and Summer was positively dying to know who would break and turn away first. Steve seemed pretty darn determined, though, and whatever ended up happening, Darcy was recording it all on her phone so that the moment would live on forever.

Next to her, Bucky muttered, "Are they actually gonna..."

The question on everybody's mind was answered when neither man broke away, both being very determined to reach their respective goals and thus ending up accidentally kissing for one very short fraction of a second. Once the actual contact had happened, Tony jumped back and yelled, "Whoa! Okay. Wow. I thought you'd pull away. Wasn't expecting that."

Victorious, Steve clapped his hands once and exclaimed, "I win! Told you I'd get you back."

Tony held up a hand and nodded. "Yeah, okay, okay. You win this one. Just don't kiss me again."

Steve laughed and then turned around with a jubilant expression on his face that instantly fell when he was faced with the confused face of Wanda and the raised eyebrows of Clint. Both had walked in just time to see most of the ordeal unfold, and Steve's face turned an embarrassed red as he attempted to act normal.

"Uh... hi."

"Hi," Clint replied, deadpan. Then he turned to Wanda and said, "So yeah, you live with a bunch of weirdos now. If it ever gets to be too weird, feel free to come visit me on my farm."

"... Okay," she replied, looking at Steve and Tony suspiciously.

"I was... getting him back for something," Steve attempted to explain.

"You know that makes it sound even weirder," Clint pointed out.

Steve then opened his mouth and then seemed to think better of it and clamped it shut, giving Wanda an overly friendly smile before walking past them.

As he passed the couch, Bucky observed dryly, "I think you might have been a little too committed there, Steve."

"Thanks," Steve muttered back, plopping down on the couch next to Thor, who looked at him strangely until Steve asked, "What?"

"Are you confused, Captain? I thought you and Lady Natasha were..."

He sighed. "We are. He just... never mind." He then paused and muttered, "I still win."

"I knew you could do it," Natasha grinned from the table. "Such _determination_."

"Remind me not to ever prank you if you try to make out with every dude that does," Sam chimed in, which made Steve groan and roll his eyes.

Then the room fell quiet for a moment, and Summer looked around at everybody, wondering how the mere mention of her odd dream had somehow caused the event to actually happen, and deciding that she was probably going to be giggling about this forever.

After a few long moments of everyone sitting there quietly, Summer then broke the silence by painting a smile on her face and chirping cheerfully, "Who wants banana bread? Me and Darcy made some. Well, I gave her directions and she made it."

"Hell yes I did," Darcy piped up.

"I want some," Rhodey answered first. "Though I'm not sure I've met you yet, so I'm rude."

"I'm Summer," she smiled. "And my superpower is dreaming things into reality, apparently."

"That's terrifying," he replied. "I'm -"

"Please say War Machine and not Iron Patriot," she interrupted before she could help it.

"Oh, hell no. Iron Patriot's so 2013."

Summer laughed, then realized that she had officially met every single living Avenger now, aside from a very large green one who she wasn't going to get to meet anytime soon, if what she had overheard about Bruce Banner was true. Hopefully he was okay wherever he was, but for now, she had her hands quite full with the semi-zoo that the place was becoming with all the new faces and very interesting personalities.

She wouldn't have changed a thing, though, because somehow the huge skyscraper was starting to feel like home. For someone who had been alone for quite a long time, getting to feed a quiet, thoughtful, newborn _being_ and a grieving twin from across the globe their first pieces of banana bread wasn't the small, insignificant thing it would have seemed like to anyone else. Every last occupant of the tower was just another lost soul - some more than others, some less - and she was one of them. But, when they were all together like this, it was nearly impossible to feel alone, and that may have been the single best part of living there.

* * *

Later that night, after they both put David to bed as per the new routine, Summer had insisted that Bucky take her to his room and let her cut his hair. First he had tried to brush her off, but when he pushed his hair out of his face three times in the course of uttering one sentence, she had given him no choice.

And so, a short time later, she found herself sitting on the side of Bucky's bed with her good leg dangling off the edge and her injured one propped up and out of the way, scissors and electric clippers at the ready, one towel spread out on the floor and one on the bed to catch falling hair. It wasn't the most ideal setup and she was pretty sure there would be a mess no matter what, but she was determined to keep up her tradition of being his personal hair groomer. If nothing else, it was good exercise for her woefully weakened arms.

It was just hard to concentrate when he walked out of the bathroom with his hair wet, as she had requested, and most damningly, just in his underwear, like he was trying to make this as difficult as possible.

"... Are you kidding me?" she blurted, narrowing her eyes when he merely grinned at her. She watched as he turned around and then sat in front of her, his back to her, and she shifted a little to get closer and in a better position to reach his hair. "You're such a jerk."

"I'm just multitasking," he shrugged as she ran a comb through his hair. "Figured I may as well get ready for bed."

"Yeah, yeah," she muttered, trying to focus on actually cutting his hair and not licking him anywhere she could reach, like she wanted to. "Not distracting at all."

"Didn't think so," he said, and she could see the slight grin on his face though she could only see the very edge of his cheekbones from her angle.

She sighed and, despite her other wishes, got down to business. There was more hair to cut than usual, because it really had been a long time since she'd last done this, so it was going to take awhile. Once she was done, _then_ she'd let herself attack him.

"So, how'd the piano go?" she asked, snipping away the first piece of hair, just above his neck.

"It went well, actually," he replied. "It came back to me some once I got started."

"Good," she smiled. "When do I get to hear you play?"

"Not any time soon," he replied without hesitation. "I'll need a _lot_ more practice before that happens."

She couldn't pester him on the issue, knowing how hard it was to share her writing with him when she didn't think it was good enough, so she wouldn't bother him to share something of his own that he felt the same way about. Instead, she kept cutting and said, "Okay. I look forward to hearing you, though."

He didn't answer, but he did move his right hand to her leg and gently hold it, occasionally moving it up and down the bare skin. It was entirely innocent but incredibly distracting, and it was in the middle of cleaning up the sides of his hair that she realized how the prior day's _experience_ in the shower had only made the sudden return of her normal physical desires so much worse.

And at that point, it was only going to get worse, because she needed to do the front of his hair. "Turn around."

He obeyed quickly, turning around and getting on his knees from his previous sitting position and looking at her innocently as she tried to just keep breathing. Ignoring him as best as she could, which wasn't a lot, she shifted closer to him and worked on cutting the front pieces of hair and not letting his hands resting on either side of her hips on the bed distract her. It was like the shower all over again, except she was holding sharp objects and had to actually concentrate so she didn't accidentally stab him or make his hair look horrible.

"You're blushing," he observed, a touch of a grin on his lips.

"You don't say?" she retorted, turning him by the chin to inspect her work. Then she grabbed the clippers and said, "You should totally be a detective in your spare time."

His grin widened. "What spare time?"

She sighed, finishing up the front of his hair and then directing him, "Turn back around. Gotta make sure everything's even."

His gaze then dropped to her lips, but he didn't act on it before doing as she said and turning around. Probably still holding back, she figured. With him sitting in front of her once more, she exhaled and thanked God that she was almost done.

After a few more moments of quiet tidying and evening things up, she decided that she was done and set her instruments aside on his bedside table. "Done," she said lightly, brushing off his shoulders and then moving her fingers to his hair, running through the shorter strands as a matter of routine and checking it one last time.

Then she felt his hand on her leg again, and without turning to look at her, he said quietly, "Thank you."

She'd done this many times now, and while it was routine now, he never forgot to thank her each time. She smiled and moved her hands back to his shoulders, running over them lightly as she leaned in and pressed a soft kiss behind his ear. "You're welcome."

His hand on her leg tightened just barely, and rather than pull away from him, she kept her hands where they were for the moment and then inched her lips lower, kissing him softly and slowly on his neck before placing several more kisses down the line of his neck. He leaned just slightly to the side, encouraging her touch, and she took that small gesture and ran with it. Her hands slid down from his shoulders to his chest, taking her time in feeling him in a way that she hadn't been able to the day before or for about six weeks, all while she found the spot on his neck that would make him groan with the right mixture of her lips and tongue. When she heard the sound, she left the spot and kissed up to jaw, then brought one of her hands up to guide his face towards hers. When her eyes met his, they were instantly drawn down to the sight of him biting his lip, and then his hand was no longer on her leg but on the back of her head, drawing her down for a kiss.

She took advantage of their positioning, continuing her hands' journey down his chest and controlling the kiss, something she didn't always get the chance to do. Mostly, she was fine with giving him the control and letting things take their natural course, but sometimes, when she could feel him holding back - like now - she would happily reverse their usual roles. She had been playing close attention all these months, and she knew how to kiss him, where to touch and how to tease him in a way that would make him forget what he was holding back for.

When she broke for air, she pulled away and then smiled a little at the flushed quality of his face, the way that he looked up at her with heavy-lidded eyes and grinned slightly back at her before turning in her arms and getting back up to his knees, like when she had been cutting the front of his hair. This time his hands went to her waist and he kissed her the way she had wanted him to then.

Just like she knew she would, she had nudged him out of his slight hesitation and back into his normal behavior, and when she smiled against his lips, he paused and pulled away, looking down at her smile and then back up to her eyes. "What?"

"Nothing," she shrugged. "I just love that you're still _this_ into me after all of the crap we've been through." His eyes grew softer then, and he smiled at her with the sort of affection that he usually did right before he would say something incredibly sweet. Before he could make good on that tradition, she sighed and ruined the moment by frowning and muttering, "I just wish you could be _in_ me..."

He laughed quietly, and she smiled with him even though she was serious about how that part sucked. But then he licked his lips and looked down at the shirt she was wearing, which was actually one of his, and as he reached down to pull it over her head, he replied, "I'm pretty good at making up for that."

Letting him pull the shirt off and toss it away, she then held on to his arms as he gently lifted her up and moved her up to the top of the bed. He was almost lightning fast about getting some pillows under her bad leg to get it up and the most comfortable that it was capable of being, and then he was back at her side, letting her pull him back in and kiss him for what felt like a long and desperately needed eternity.

For a long time it was nothing but kissing and relatively innocent touching, time spent doing what they hadn't yet had time to do until that night. The shower had been quick and she had been too tired the night before to do anything but pass out, but now she felt _very_ awake and less weak than she had then, allowing the perfect opportunity to be lazy and sweet rather than rushed. Not that there was anything wrong with quick and efficient, but it had its own time and place, as did slow and languid.

She sighed when his lips moved from slowly devouring hers to moving equally slowly down her neck, her fingers making their restless way through his hair, down the back of his neck and shoulders, then his back, anywhere she could reach. She could feel when the lazy pace wasn't quite enough for him anymore, when his hands held her a little tighter and he kissed her a little harder, almost imperceptibly but not quite. She was ready to give his arms or hair a tug and drag him back up from his current position of worshipping at the breasts that he had apparently missed a _lot_, but a glance downward caught sight of one of his hands disappearing between them, and as it quickly became clear, it was not to go to anywhere on her.

But he wasn't going to get away with that again.

"Bucky," she said, his name sounding more like a whine than she had intended as she grabbed the top of his hair and pulled gently. His mouth left her with a faint pop and he looked up at her, appearing slightly dazed as she beckoned him to come up to her level. Once he got there, hovering over her, she pushed him down to lay at her side and said, "As much as I like watching _that_, it's not happening again."

"But -"

"Yeah, I get tired fast now," she shrugged. "Whatever. I'll deal with it."

When the look on his face betrayed how much he wanted to argue, she kissed him again, softly at first and then more deeply, letting it linger until she felt his fingers go to her hair and scratch there gently. Then she pulled away and said breathlessly, "I know you can't say no to me."

He swallowed and shook his head. "No I can't. I don't want to."

She grinned. "Good. Then don't. I'll let you know if I need your help."

He nodded, then kissed her with a new, perfectly imperfect sloppiness that gave away how much he preferred what was happening next. From there, it was an effortless falling back into a treasured routine, even with her leg in the way and preventing some things. It didn't matter at that point, because all that mattered was being close and giving each other what they could. And if she felt like she was at a disadvantage for just having a perfectly normal and now-easily winded human hand while he had an utterly sinful and strong metal one, she didn't let on one bit.

Instead, when the time came and she finally was able to return the pleasure he'd given her the day before, she kept her eyes on his face and soaked in the way that his eyes rolled closed and he leaned his forehead against hers, heavy breaths turning into short pants against her cheek. He stayed quiet at first, at least until she got into the groove of things and drew on her well of knowledge regarding what would make his breaths turn into long, shaky moans. The first time one escaped his throat, he opened his eyes and then was suddenly looking at her almost ravenously and kissing her equally ferociously, just as his metal hand made its way to her and made her let out a moan of her own into his mouth.

Their lazy pace continued on to the very end, which was all the sweeter for how long they had built it up and let it drag on. He never could manage to keep his moans inside and that time was no exception, and she stayed coherent herself just long enough to watch him gasp into their kiss and then moan out his end against her lips. She would have told him how beautiful she thought he was, had she been capable of words in that moment, or the next several that followed.

When it was all over and she was a useless pile of mostly non-broken limbs in his bed, she laid there in disbelief of how intense such simple things could be and barely noticed when he disappeared for a moment. By the time she found the strength to barely raise her head up to look around, he was already back and sliding under the sheets to lay next to her. He covered her up as well, then pulled her as close as he could while keeping her leg up and comfortable, kissing her forehead as she settled against him.

"_Now_ I'm tired," she said, yawning a little, and he smiled into her hair.

"Me too," he replied quietly. "That was..."

"_Really_ good for technically not being much," she finished for him, closing her eyes. "Yeah. Good workout for me, too. Maybe it'll be part of my physical therapy."

He laughed at that one, a real one that rumbled into her ear and made her smile. "Let me know what the doctor says when you ask."

"Of course," she sighed, yawning again. Then her brain started wandering. "Today was weird. Good but weird. Really weird."

"Yeah. Steve kissed Tony."

She then snorted and laughed at the same time, producing a wholly unattractive sound, and she didn't even care. "I totally dreamed that into reality. I don't care what anyone says. I just wonder what I can dream up next."

"As long as I'm not kissing either one of them, I'll be fine with whatever," he replied.

She giggled a little, then said, "If I was going to dream about you kissing a dude, it wouldn't be either of them. Steve would be gross and Tony would be... eh. No. Weird."

"... Who would it be?" he asked.

She cracked her eye open and thought for a moment. "... Not answering that one."

"Why not?"

"It's nobody you know," she said, yawning a third time. "I think they're technically dead, actually. Now goodnight. I've got work to do dreaming more stuff."

"Be careful," he teased. "You've got a real dangerous power in your hands."

"I did a minute ago." She then cracked up into sleepy, silly giggles, and Bucky rolled his eyes before kissing her goodnight one more time. She drifted off to sleep soon after, happy and content despite their lingering troubles. Life might have been weird with problems and surprises lurking around every corner, but nights like those, it was easy to believe that the peace could last.

Only time would tell if it would.

**A/N: ... I don't even know what this chapter is lol. It started out in my head one way and then ended up as THIS but I regret nothing because I think the story needed some comic relief, right? Riiiiiiight? :D Anywho... we'll get back to the more hard-hitting, actual plot relevant things next week, I promise lol. Thank you all for reading, reviewing, following, and being amazing :D also thanks to midnightwings96 for helping with this chapter and especially with the piano section, which I would have had zero clue how to go about without her help, so yay! :D She just got another chapter of _Ruin_ up this last week, so go and check it out if you're a reader of that story :D Thank you all again, until next week! **


	32. Chapter 32

One month later, at a rehab facility not far from the tower she called home, Summer winced and held her breath before immediately being told by the middle aged woman in front of her, "Breathe. I know it hurts, but holding your breath makes it worse."

She nodded, forcing herself to breathe as the physical therapist helped her to bend her right leg for the first time since before the accident, which was now nearly three months into the past. Today was her first appointment at the rehab facility covered by her insurance, and while she'd had a vague idea of what to expect, it ended up being a whole lot more painful than what she had anticipated.

"Right. I've been in labor. I should know this," she said, watching her leg as closely as Bucky was as he sat at her side. She was in a room, sitting on a long, uncomfortable chair, and the three of them were the room's only occupants.

The PT smiled and continued gently bending and straightening her leg. "How many kids do you two have?"

"Just one," she answered without hesitation. No need for unnecessary clarifications to people not in "the loop". "But he's six, so it's been awhile since I had to worry about breathing."

"Oh, a six year old. That's a fun age. You look so young, though," the woman said, laying her leg down to give her a break. "Is he in school today?"

"No, actually, just with his... uncle," she said, saying the first word that popped into her head. She quickly glanced at Bucky to gauge his reaction to having referred to Steve as David's uncle, and he looked mostly amused and a little surprised.

"Gotcha," the PT said, grabbing her chart and sitting down on a stool next to where Summer sat. "So, I'll give you a quick rundown of where we're at with your leg. As you know, we measured both of your legs when you first came in today, and as we expect in these situations, your right is significantly smaller than your left now. It's never a question of _if_ the muscles will atrophy but how much they will, and yours are right about what we would expect."

Summer nodded. "But these exercises will help that, right?"

The woman nodded. "Yes. But it'll take time. This isn't something you want to rush. So what I want you to do - and he can help you with this," she gestured to Bucky, "is do these exercises once a day. I know it doesn't seem like much, but it's where we need to start."

She nodded back and asked, "Can I still not put weight on the leg? Ever?"

The PT hesitated. "At this point, I would still prefer that you stay off of it at home. You don't want to overwork yourself or the leg. Like I said, this is a very slow process. But it's for the best."

"And the brace?"

"That can stay off now," the woman replied, and Summer could have wept with joy. "You don't need that level of immobility anymore. But we'll be giving you a smaller one to wear at night, when you sleep."

"I can live with that," Summer smiled. "So when can I start trying to walk on the leg?"

"Once we've rebuilt some of your muscle," she replied. "Depending on how this week goes, we can see about first steps next week."

"Okay," Summer replied, taking a breath.

"Any other questions?" the PT asked with a warm smile.

"I would ask how long until I can start chasing my own kid around, but..." Summer shrugged, knowing the answer somewhere just shy of a million more years, if she was being hyperbolic.

"I would say that for now and the foreseeable future... definitely leave the chasing to Dad," the PT nodded.

"Right. Okay," Summer nodded, having not expected the appointment to be so loaded with family references, but she couldn't deny how natural it all felt.

"All right. I'll be right back with your new and improved brace."

And then Summer and Bucky were alone for the moment after the therapist left, and she glanced at him and contemplated for all of a moment teasing him about the "Dad" title before chickening out. "Well, this was fun."

He let out what was more of a breath than a chuckle. "Doesn't look that way."

She shrugged. "At least I'm doing something now. Now I can think about actually working to get back on my feet instead of just laying around and waiting." She paused. "Maybe once I'm walking some I can take my job back, too."

He nodded, not trying to talk her out of the notion. "But you _have_ been working. Writing is working."

She smiled a little and said, "Well... I suppose. But only time will tell if my little farm story will actually get picked up by anybody."

In the last month, she had added to the story that she'd written for Bucky's birthday and edited it to be an actual publishable work - changed the names, traded Bucky's metal arm for a prosthetic leg, and doubled the length of the story. She still had quite a bit more to add to it, though she wanted to keep it short after reading that most first-time authors had better luck with shorter novels getting published rather than long ones.

It had kept her busy and given her something to do with her time out of work, which might have been the best thing about it. And by the looks of things, she wouldn't be running out of time to write any time soon.

In fact, the person she feared was getting the most bored was Bucky. As much as he thrived on routine, she couldn't help but worry that it was getting a bit stagnant. He had his piano hobby and he kept busy, but he hadn't been on a mission in ages. The others were busy working on a new structure for their base of operations, moving it from the tower to a new building somewhere else, and until they had all of that squared away, Bucky didn't have much to do.

Before she could mention any of this, the physical therapist came back in with a new, smaller, much less troublesome brace in tow, and soon after, it was time to leave and head back home. All in all, the first appointment was a success, and though it left her feeling unexpectedly exhausted, Summer returned home in higher spirits than when she had left.

When they left got home, Summer walked off of the elevator on her crutches and found Natasha and Sam in the kitchen, both drinking something green and most likely disgusting.

Natasha was the first to turn towards them and say, "Hey, how did it go?"

"Not bad," Summer replied, looking down at the new, smaller brace on her leg. "Got my brace way downsized and might get to try actually walking again soon."

"Good," Natasha replied. "Steve should be back soon with David. He took him to the park about an hour ago."

"Oh okay," she said, plunking down at her regular seat at the table. "I wonder if I can work in a nap before they come back."

"Probably not after the next thing I have to tell you," Nat mentioned casually, coming around the table and sitting across from her. Summer looked at her in sudden alarm, but Nat shrugged, "It's good, don't worry."

"Oh. Phew. I was worried there for a minute."

Natasha smiled faintly and then said, "I had lunch with Pepper today. I worked undercover as her assistant a few years ago, so sometimes we get together, catch up on things. I actually enjoyed working with her. Anyway, she mentioned that her event coordinator quit without notice last week, and that she's having a hard time finding someone to replace her. She's a little paranoid these days after the HYDRA attack on the tower."

"Understandable," Summer shrugged, not seeing how any of this was going to stop her from taking a nap.

"It is. So, I suggested she promote from within."

Summer stared at Natasha, clueless until the other woman spoke again, spelling it out in plain English.

"I suggested _you_, Summer."

Her eyes widened and she floundered for a moment. "Oh! Oh. But... event coordinator? I don't have experience with that."

"That's not entirely true," Natasha replied. "I've seen you pull together a birthday party at the last minute even with making the cake and dinner and the decorations yourself."

"Well, that was just a birthday party," Summer said, brushing it off.

"You have organizational skills," Natasha explained, "which is what you would need for the job. Your assistants would do the work. You would plan everything and oversee it."

Her eyes bugged out of her head. "_My_ _assistants_?"

Natasha smiled at her bewilderment. "I suggested you for a few reasons. First being that you're trustworthy, Pepper knows you're not a mole or HYDRA. Second, it's job you could do now while you're off your feet - no running around picking up coffee or dry cleaning. And it's also a raise."

"But... I... oh God. That's a _big_ jump from assistant."

"Maybe not as much you think. Like I said, a lot of it is organization. You're good at that. The rest is phone calls, scheduling, design - all of which you would have help with."

"But if I screwed it up and there was some big party here that sucked or fell apart because of me -"

"Summer," Bucky interrupted, shaking his head next to her. "For God's sake, have some faith in yourself for once."

She fell silent then, looking from Bucky to Natasha, then to Sam, who was noisily drinking his concoction out of a straw as he leaned against the counter, watching with seeming amusement.

"Hey don't look at me," he shrugged. "I'm not gonna talk you out of it."

She took a moment to think and then asked, "Did Pepper like the idea, or..."

"She actually loved it," Natasha replied. "She asked me to _convince_ you to apply."

"But I have no experience," she stated dumbly.

"We've been over this," Natasha said patiently, like she was explaining something to a jittery child. "You are trustworthy and good with organization. That's really all she needs."

Summer blinked, wondering if it really was that simple. After another long moment spent thinking, she said slightly timidly, "You said something about a raise...?"

"Let's just say that you would be the breadwinner between the two of you," Natasha smirked.

Summer's eyes widened again, because Steve had mentioned that with the new facility they were working on, Bucky would start being actually paid for his help for the first time, and the estimates of this weren't exactly paltry.

"If you don't go for it," Sam quipped, "_I_ will. I could plan some events between Avenger stuff. Hell yeah."

Summer shook her head. "No, I'll apply. I might panic the whole time I'm filling it out, but I'll do it."

"Good," Natasha smiled. "And hey, think of it this way. Stark's events attract a lot of big names. Think of all the chances you'll have to be starstruck and embarrass yourself."

Somehow, Summer's eyes managed to get even bigger. "Yeah, because I'm not freaking out enough. Thanks. Oh God."

Natasha then chuckled and got up from the table, leaving Summer to continue contemplating the job silently. Natasha had been persuasive in her arguments, but there was no stopping the doubt swirling through Summer's brain.

... The dollar signs flashing every time she closed her eyes did help stifle that doubt, however.

While she was still deep in thought, Steve and David came home, the latter of which running up to her and surprising her out of her thoughts with an unexpected hug.

"Oh, you're home!" she smiled, hugging him back. "Did you have fun with Steve?"

Pulling away, David nodded, and she noticed how he was holding something behind his back. She raised an eyebrow and asked, "Whatcha got there?"

He then beamed and whipped his hand out, and then he was shoving a little handful of wildflowers towards her. And she immediately melted.

"Oh my God, you picked me _flowers_? Holy crap, that is so sweet. I might actually cry. Come here," she said, taking the flowers and then pulling him into a big hug while Steve stood nearby and smiled.

"That was all his idea, by the way. I had nothing to do with it," Steve clarified.

She looked up at Steve and smiled back, giving David one more squeeze before letting go. She looked at him and was reminded of why she had to go for the new job, whether she fully trusted her abilities or not. He was six now, and while she had been teaching him numbers, letters, and other subjects since he was about three, he was a year late starting school. He was up to date with what a child of his age should know, but she knew he was at the point where he really needed to start going to a real school. And the best special needs school in the city happened to come with a hefty price tag, but one that she could easily pay with this new job.

And so it was settled. She would apply for the job, cross her fingers, and hope for the best.

* * *

While Summer was busy in her room completing the new job application on her laptop, Bucky was in his own room, whiling the hour away on his piano. A lot had come back to him over the past month, from a handful of memories of playing with his mother to certain techniques that she had taught him, and as time went on, he not only slowly improved, but learned to like playing more and more. He still missed dancing with Summer and preferred that, but the time alone and the familiarity of the piano afforded its own therapeutic comforts. And his left hand wasn't at all the hindrance he had suspected it would be.

He had learned a handful of new songs to play over the last few weeks, though none of them were actually new. Once he figured out one to his satisfaction, he'd move on to another, all of them picked from the old records Steve had lent him. It wasn't easy learning by ear, but that was half of why he enjoyed it. It was a challenge.

He was more than halfway into learning the latest song that he'd chosen when he got the sudden feeling that he was being watched. He couldn't help his initial defensive reaction, having the history that he did, but he didn't stop playing or act otherwise out of the ordinary. Instead, he merely glanced slowly towards the door, then fought a smile when he saw who his audience consisted of.

David tried to dart back behind the slightly open door, but he knew he had been caught. Bucky turned back to the piano, not saying a word, merely continuing to play and waiting a moment to look back in the boy's direction. David was peeking again by that point, so Bucky wordlessly motioned for him to come inside, which he did.

Bucky scooted over a bit on the bench, and once David understood the invitation, he scrambled up and sat at Bucky's side, looking up at him shyly before looking away.

"It's okay," Bucky assured him. "I don't mind the audience."

David smiled and then started watching very closely as Bucky played through the song a couple of times, improving with each try. Bucky didn't say a word until he took a break in between the tries, glancing down at the boy and asking, "You want to try?" David nodded enthusiastically, and Bucky smiled before asking, "Know this song?"

He played the first few notes of the song, and David nodded again. Of course he knew the song - even the little ones of the current generation knew "Over the Rainbow", so it wasn't surprising. What _was_ surprising was how David then followed Bucky's instructions to try to play the chords of the song and took all of one try to get it damn near _perfect_.

He played alongside David, watching with slightly wide eyes as the boy made it seem all but effortless. He knew how good David was with his piano apps on his tablet, but he hadn't anticipated _this_.

As they played the song together, he watched David and helped him a few times when he needed it, but for the most part, he didn't need much help at all. The best part of it all, however, was how obviously happy David was to be sitting there with him, playing a song together.

Bucky's mind drifted to his spotty but clearer memories of his mother doing this very same thing with him as a boy, and now, as surprising and unexpected as it was, he was getting to do the same thing with this child. The thought didn't scare him or confuse him like it would have before. Now it made him smile and simply let the moment be the warm, sweet thing that it was.

* * *

Meanwhile, having just completed the job application, Summer called David's name and sighed when there was, of course, no answer. He had wandered off some moments ago, after having told her that he wanted to go and find Bucky. He did so by using his self-made sign for Bucky, which was tapping his left arm. He had a sign like that for everybody - for Steve he held his arm out like if he were holding a shield, for Sam he held his arms out like he was flying, and for Thor, he made a gesture like he was smacking a hammer in the air.

She had told him to leave Bucky alone and that he was busy doing his own things, but David was rather stubborn when he wanted to be. He hung around for a few minutes before quietly slipping out of the room, and now that she was done with the application, she needed to get up on her crutches and go hunt the kid down.

She didn't need to go far, however. She stopped outside of Bucky's room and, when she heard the notes of a familiar song being played on his piano, she peered past the barely-open door and immediately smiled to herself at what she saw.

It was the first time she had caught a glimpse of Bucky playing the piano, and that in itself would have made her stop and stare, but seeing him and David playing side by side was enough to melt her right to the floor.

Then there was the whole matter of how seriously _good_ it sounded. It would have still brought tears to her eyes even if it had been terrible music and neither of them had an idea what they were doing, but the fact that she instantly recognized the song and David was playing incredibly well, too well considering his only experience being self-taught on a tablet - it was _incredible_.

Her eyes were starting to shine by the time she heard quiet footsteps behind her, and Steve asking, "Everything okay?"

She glanced behind her, nodding at Steve as he came to stand at her side and peer in the room as well. "Yeah, yeah. Everything's great, actually. Look."

She then watched as Steve looked and, just as she had, almost instantly smiled to himself. "Wow."

"I know," she said quietly, hoping Bucky didn't know they were there. "I wish I had my phone on me. I need a picture of this."

Steve, ever helpful, solved her problem by pulling out his own phone and silently snapping a picture. A few pushes of a few buttons later, he turned to her and said, "Just sent it to you."

"Thank you," she smiled.

He nodded, then glanced into the room before saying quietly, "I know he's doing the piano thing for therapy, but somehow I think it's something else that's really helping."

That remark only made her smile more, and Steve smiled back and gave her shoulder a light pat before walking on down the hall.

She stole a few more moments watching before moving on herself, heading towards the living room. Bucky, who had been aware of both her and Steve the entire time and also heard every word with his sharp hearing, glanced back at the door and grinned softly before turning back to his task.

* * *

Later that day, Summer got a text from Paul inviting her and her "boys" over to his and Sarah's new rental home outside of the city. They had just moved in within the last three days, and Summer hadn't been over yet due to the general chaos of moving across the country with two adults and seven kids, giving everybody a chance to unpack some and feel human again. But that night, Paul had insisted she come over, not taking no for an answer, so after dinner, she piled into a car - Sam's, after he handed Bucky the keys and gravely warned him to bring it back _with_ the steering wheel - and headed out into the night.

Their rental home was an hour away, safely tucked away from the crime and the bustle of the city, and when they pulled into the driveway, Summer felt excitement rush through her just as it had when Paul had first told her that he was moving to New York. It was real now, he was really living just a mere hour away from her now, and things like this - driving over to his house and just hanging out for a few hours - could actually become a normal part of life now.

"I've never seen you move so fast on those crutches," Bucky observed with a grin, David's hand in his as they made their way to the front door.

She smiled back and said, "I might be just a teensy bit excited."

Once they got on the porch and Bucky reached to knock on the door, there was a slight crashing sound on the other side, and suddenly it burst open, revealing Paul with a full face of very bright makeup and a hot pink feather boa around his shoulders.

He grinned like nothing was out of the ordinary and said, "If you weren't on crutches, Summer, I'd pick you up and throw you in the pool in my backyard because I am _that_ excited right now."

She stared at him. "I... like the new look."

He looked down and then seemed realize his odd appearance. "Oh yeah! It's makeover day with Maya, apparently. Eight years old and makeup was the first thing she wanted unpacked. And this thing," he plucked at the boa. "Anyway, come in, and _whoa_," he turned to Bucky, "what's with the hand?"

As they walked in, Bucky looked down at his seemingly normal left hand, and Summer explained, "He can do a holographic thing with it. He wanted to do it just in case it would freak any of the kids out."

"Oh," Paul said, nodding to Bucky as he passed by and offering a high five to David, which was predictably ignored. "You don't have to do that, but thanks for thinking of it."

Bucky nodded, leaving his hand disguised, and then with the door closed, Paul gave Summer the biggest hug that he possibly could with her standing on the crutches.

"Can you believe we're this close now?" he smiled excitedly, pulling away and absently running a finger under his eye to wipe away some errant bright blue eyeshadow.

"No!" she grinned back. Then she looked around and said, "This place is nice. Where is everybody?"

As if to answer her question, there was then a veritable stampede of children into the foyer she was standing in. They were all beaming and squeaking about "Aunt Summer" and running at full speed at her until the oldest, Maya, stopped and they all skidded to a halt behind her and half of them fell over in the process, like bowling pins.

"She's hurt, remember?" the dark-haired little girl snapped at her siblings. "Mama said to be easy with her!"

Summer grinned at the leader of the pack, then freed one arm from the crutches and held it out for a big hug. "Come here, Maya."

The girl then squeaked again and came at her for a hug, and Paul turned to the slightly-overwhelmed looking Bucky and introduced each of his kids to him as they went to Summer one at a time for hugs.

"That's Maya, she's the oldest and sassiest," he said. "Then there's the first set of twins, who are six years old, Gabriel - our only boy so far - and Samantha."

"Sammie!" the twin instantly piped up, giving her father a scolding look as she left Summer's embrace.

"Sammie - _sorry_," he sighed. "Then there's the next set of twins, who're four. Selena and Charlotte."

"You had twins back to back?" Bucky asked a little wide-eyed.

"Yup," Paul nodded. "Sarah is a goddess and should have monuments built to her. Anyway, then there's Sofia, who's two," he gestured to a toddler currently chewing on a toy and staring at everybody rather than hugging her aunt. "And finally, there's Marina, who you've met and is with Sarah wherever she is."

"Right here," the woman said, rounding the corner with a smile and a five month old redheaded baby in her arms. She had grown so much since Summer had last seen her, all chubby cheeks and blue eyes and hair completely different from her all-brunette siblings. But Summer's attention was stolen by Sarah looking her over and gasping, "Oh, look at you! Come on, come sit down and get comfortable, poor thing."

Summer glanced at Bucky and smiled at his expression, which was somewhere in between _oh my God so many kids_ and _no really why so many kids, _and that only made her smile more as she made her way into the living room.

There were boxes everywhere and it looked like the family wasn't even halfway unpacked yet, but their couch was as comfortable as she remembered it being in California. Sarah helped get her settled in while Marina's smiling, fat face thoroughly distracted her.

"How are you doing? Are they letting you walk yet?" Sarah asked, sitting across from her while Bucky and David took the spots beside her. The other kids trailed in the living room one by one, starting with Maya.

"Not yet, but maybe by next week," Summer replied, smiling goofily back at the baby who was still staring at her. "I'm sorry, but I can't focus on anything else but your baby right now. She's so _big_ and _cute_."

"Oh I know. Here," Sarah beamed, getting up and quickly depositing the baby into Summer's lap. "She _loves_ people right now."

"I can tell," Summer laughed, turning the baby around to face her and smiling even wider when Marina grinned and then giggled at her. "Oh my God, her giggle! I'm dead. Somebody call 911."

Paul sat next to Sarah as Summer fell head over heels in love with her newest niece, bouncing her and making her giggle more. She glanced at Paul in between dying and said, "She looks _just_ like you."

"I know, and yet she's still adorable. Go figure," he quipped.

She rolled her eyes and then glanced at Bucky next to her, who was watching her in that same quiet, soft way that he had watched her hold Marina for the first time about four months ago. She smiled at him, and as he smiled back, his eyes darted to Marina, who was now looking his way and smiling at him as she gnawed on her little fist.

"Ooh, you have a fan," Summer said right before Marina started giggling yet again, falling over in the process until Summer caught her and set her back upright. She was a complete goner, descending into ridiculous-sounding baby talk and silly faces, anything to get more adorable reactions from the baby, and every so often she'd glance at Bucky for the shortest of seconds and find him seemingly fascinated by the sight before him.

When Marina had calmed down some and was content resting in Summer's lap with a toy that Sarah had brought over, Summer took a breath and then looked back to her brother and sister in law, saying, "Okay, now that I've died a thousand deaths - how are you guys settling in?"

"Good, aside from the, oh, ten thousand or so boxes left to unpack," Paul replied, still distracting with his makeup face, "but I actually did have a purpose for asking you guys over here."

She raised her eyebrows, but before she could ask any questions, Paul leaned over the side of the couch he was on and then produced a small box, which his set on his lap. "So, while I was packing up about a week ago, I came across this box with some of Grandma's stuff in it. You know, pictures, mementos, stuff like that," he explained.

Summer nodded, the topic reminding her of the fact that all Paul had of their grandmother was all that was left, since the destruction of her house. She tried to push the thought away and listened to Paul as he lifted the box's lid and said, "I went through it all again before I repacked it, and I was reading through one of her old diaries, and... you're never gonna believe what I found in it."

Summer furrowed her brows, Marina still happy in her arms as she replied, "Really?"

Paul nodded, finding the little book he was searching for and flipping it open while Sarah helpfully started wiping his face off with a baby wipe. "Oh thanks, honey. Anyway, yeah, so - just stay sitting down. I'm gonna read from it since I actually speak the mother tongue, unlike some of us."

"... Mother tongue," Summer rolled her eyes. "Your true mother tongue is Parseltongue."

Paul gestured vaguely and said, "Yeah, well, you're not wrong, but okay. Is everybody sitting down?" When he looked around to verify this, he then looked back down at the book and said, "This is her oldest diary we have. It's from... let's see... 1947. It's the only one she talks about the war and the concentration camp in. She wrote the whole thing almost like a really long letter to our mom. So when she says 'you' and stuff, that's who she's talking to. It's a full account of her whole time there. But I'm gonna skip to the day she was rescued."

He cleared his throat, and Sarah took off the feather boa from his shoulders and then hushed a protesting Maya as Paul began to read. Summer listened carefully, having had no idea what to expect.

"_By the end, none_ _of us had any hope left. I had lost mine the day they killed Saul - _that was her husband_," _Paul told Bucky helpfully before going back to reading. "_We_ _had very little knowledge of what was happening outside of those walls. We didn't know who was winning the war, but from where we were standing, it certainly didn't seem like the Nazis were losing. Some of us tried to escape, but it never worked. They'd beat the ones who tried or send them to the other side of the camp, where they did their experiments. I did everything I could to keep from going there, because I knew I would lose you if I did."_

He looked up to make sure he had both Summer and Bucky's attention, then went on, "_On that very last day_, _I_ _was so weak and so hungry, I could hardly move. I knew they would kill me soon, since I could not do their work anymore. I could feel you moving less and less. I would wait for the moment to come when you would stop completely, but every time I thought you were gone, you would kick me. I started to think that somehow, you would outlive me."_

"_You kicked me just as the bombing started. The alarm sirens went off, and everyone around me found the strength to get up and look out of the cage we were in. I couldn't. I laid there and waited. The officers came and opened the door, yelling at us to get up and get out. I know now that they knew they were outmatched, and they simply wanted to kill us before the Allies could rescue us._"

"_But before any of us obeyed them, I heard gunshots and looked up. The officers were on the floor, dead. I still couldn't move. I just stared at their eyes as the others left. Then there was a man walking towards me, and I didn't know who he was or if he was there to hurt me or free me. He walked to me and crouched down, and he started talking to me in English. I think he was trying to figure out if I was alive_."

"_I nodded, since I couldn't speak his language, and then looked at him. He was an American, young. Dark hair that reminded me of my Saul. He helped me stand up and then helped me walk out of the cell. He didn't look like a normal soldier. He had a big gun but his clothes were blue, and he kept talking to me even though I couldn't understand him. He led me to a man with a funny hat and a huge mustache that covered half his face, and then I was walking out of my prison. We were free. We were saved."_

"_Later they told me who it was who liberated the camp - Captain America and his men. I never saw him, and I did not know who he was before this. He went on to die in the war. The man who rescued me, I do not know what became of him. But those men are the reason that you and I lived."_

Paul then closed the book, and looked up expectantly at his audience. Summer stared at him with wide eyes and looked over at Bucky, whose brows were furrowed and eyes confused, and then looked back to Paul as she asked, "... Does that mean what I think it means?"

"Yeah, I'm... pretty sure that it does," Paul replied. "I mean, who else could she have been talking about?"

Marina was now slobbering heavily on the Summer's hand that was holding her upright, but she didn't notice because her mind was officially blown. She again looked at Bucky, who still looked confused, but before she could say a word to him, Paul beat her to it.

"So yeah... with the exception of Sarah here, it looks like without you," he told Bucky, "none of the people in this room would be alive today."

He had already saved her life more than once. She just hadn't known that he had saved it long before she had even been born.

* * *

He tried to remember for himself what he had just heard. He focused on the details of the story and tried to piece it together in his head, but the memory was simply not there. As with a number of stories and parts of his other life, it was out of reach, and the first thing he did was try to poke holes into the theory.

"It... if it was me she described, I didn't save anyone on my own," he muttered, not exactly comfortable with the way that everyone was looking at him. "It was everybody, I..."

"Actually," Paul interrupted gently, "from the way it sounded, she was in such bad shape that she looked dead. So we don't know that anyone else would have checked her. Maybe by the time they did, it would have been too late."

"She never talked about this," Summer said, seemingly still in awe of this revelation. "I thought they freed the camp in a normal raid, not with Captain America."

Paul nodded. "Yeah, she didn't tell me this either. She told me the story of her and Saul and hiding being pregnant with our mom when they captured them, but I was like twelve and if she told me who saved her, I definitely don't remember."

Neither did Bucky, and it was infinitely frustrating. It was hard to accept people calling you a hero and raving over your deeds when you couldn't even remember doing them, but at the same time... how incredibly _amazing_ that this was true.

"Anyway, yeah, this is one of the main reasons why I wanted you guys to come over tonight," Paul said. "I wanted to tell you both in person and I've been dying inside since I read it."

Summer then asked Bucky quietly, "Can you remember it?"

He shook his head, glancing at the baby in her arms before looking away. "No. I mean... maybe I've had a flash from it before, but I wouldn't know."

Summer nodded understandingly, and Paul said, "That's okay. I just wanted you to know. And by the way, this makes me feel even worse for being a dick to you back when the accident happened, so..."

Little Sofia, who had been wandering through the room, looked up at her father, then repeated "dick" over and over as she headed towards a pile of toys. Sarah smacked Paul on the arm, and he cringed slightly before amending, "Jerk. I was a jerk. Whoops."

Bucky shrugged him off. "It's fine."

"Not really," Paul replied, "but can we all just take a moment and soak in the fact that the dude who saved our grandmother from HYDRA Nazis is now sitting in my living room and is in a long term relationship with my sister, because... man does that sound creepy when you first hear it because you'd expect him to be old enough to pass for Dumbledore, but _man_... seriously, you just can't make this stuff up."

"You should write a book," Sarah told Summer, nodding in agreement. "Because he's right. It really is an incredible story."

"I actually... sort of... am," Summer replied quietly.

"Really?" Paul asked, and Bucky watched her blush faintly and look down as she came up with an answer.

"Well, it's... based loosely on us," she shrugged. "Completely different circumstances. But I've got probably about half of it written."

Paul's eyebrows shot up. "Whoa! You're actually writing a book?! Sarah, get he defibrillator ready. When did you start it?"

Summer fidgeted a little and said, "Bucky's... birthday. It was my... uh... present to him. Then I added to it from there."

Bucky then watched Paul's face shift from excitement to understanding and then mild but mostly humorous disgust as he said, "So... what I get from that and the way that you're turning red is... when I read this story eventually, I'm gonna have to skim the crap out of it if I don't want my eyes to bleed and fall out of my head."

She nodded. "Yeah... pretty much."

"I'll read it all," Sarah piped up before looking around and then nonchalantly examining her nails.

Summer smiled awkwardly. "Yeah... okay."

All was silent for a few seconds until Paul smiled and said, "So anyway, back to the whole this guy saving our entire family and everything..."

Bucky sighed and leaned forward slightly, elbows on his knees as he said, "I just don't remember it. I wish I did, but..."

"That's okay," Summer replied. "I'm just really glad she wrote the story down. Otherwise we might not have ever known."

He nodded, then smiled a little as he said, "I'm glad I did it."

She smiled back, and then Paul sighed and said, "See, I should find this weird. I should. But I don't and I'm not sure what that says about how used I've gotten to things being completely bizarre."

"No, weird would be finding out that he," she pointed to Bucky, "was actually our real grandfather. _That_ would be bizarre and horrific because... yeah."

Paul choked on the water bottle he was sipping and then said, "Oh my God, I totally should have pranked you guys like that first. Like bad news, guys - you might be violating a few laws of nature doing what you're... doing."

"Oh God," Summer cringed. "I would have _actually_ killed you. Like you would be in the hospital now."

As the siblings carried on, Bucky continued to ponder the new information Paul had given them, and then he noticed a little face staring at him from the arm of the couch. The oldest kid, Maya, was leaning there and staring at him with open curiosity. First he tried to ignore her, but eventually he ended up staring back and waiting for her to say or do something.

"You're pretty," Maya finally said.

He furrowed his brows and shifted his gaze before looking back at her. "... Thanks?"

"You're prettier than Aunt Summer."

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. "I don't know about _that_, but..."

"Can I give you a makeover?"

He hesitated. "I... don't know..."

Maya then stuck out her bottom lip in a pout that made his eyes narrow and protests die in his throat. He got the feeling that the kid wasn't used to being told no, because she'd pull out _this_ face and make one feel like pure scum for even contemplating telling her no.

"... Fine."

She then broke into a smile and dashed off, presumably to gather supplies, and Bucky wondered what he had just gotten himself into.

Over the next twenty minutes, David kept busy by playing nearby with his only male cousin while Summer and Paul went through the rest of their grandmother's box and chatted. Meanwhile, Bucky sat still and played model for Maya, who apparently took her makeovers very seriously and would scold him if he so much as twitched while she did her work.

Summer kept glancing over at them, incredulous amusement on her face, and he would merely shrug and hold still while Maya painstakingly applied dark purple eyeshadow for a "smoky eye effect", as she called it.

Once she got to the blush stage, the brush she was using tickled his nose and he involuntarily scrunched his face up and turned away, only for her to immediately say, "Hey, I'm trying to contour your cheeks here."

He looked at her with furrowed brows and held still again. "What?"

She sighed impatiently. "I'm gonna be a makeup artist when I grow up. Now stop moving." He obeyed, and as she went back to "contouring", she said, "You have really good bone structure."

He looked at her strangely again and said, "You have a good vocabulary."

"Yeah, that's what my teachers say," she shrugged. "But math is my best subject."

"Really?"

She suddenly stopped what she was doing and looked at him with narrowed eyes. "Do you think because I'm a girl I'm bad at math?"

He shook his head quickly. "No. Not at all."

She then stared him down for a few more seconds before accepting his answer. "Good. My mama always says I can do anything a boy can."

"She's right," he agreed, becoming suddenly more concerned for himself when she put down the brush in her hands and started browsing through the little tiny lipsticks she had in her bag.

"I'm better at baseball than most of the boys at my school. Well, my old school. They didn't like playing with me 'cause I'd kick their butts." She evaluated each tube of lipstick carefully as she added, "But I still like makeup better." Then she held up two of the lipsticks and asked, "What do you think - mauve or rose?"

He opened his mouth to answer but then realized he had even less than no idea. Then she dropped them both and said, "Never mind, neither. I gave you a dramatic eye so I should just use a sheer gloss."

He chuckled at her serious, business-like manner, and then looked over at Summer, who was now sitting next to him with a sleeping Marina knocked out in her arms. She smiled at him, and he raised his eyebrows and shrugged, turning back to Maya so she could give his makeover the finishing touch.

It was quite distracting, though, seeing how natural Summer looked with a baby in her arms. If he let himself - and he was _not_ letting himself - he could imagine some things all too well, things that he would not utter aloud to her any time soon.

"Okay," Maya said, putting the cap back on the shiny gloss she'd just slathered on his lips. "Done. Ready to see your new look?"

He smiled and nodded, utterly terrified for what he was about to see as she pulled out a compact mirror from her bag and handed it to him. He opened it and then peered at his reflection, unable to keep his eyes from bugging out for a moment before he stifled a laugh at his "makeover". The kid actually hadn't done a bad job, and his cheeks really were quite well defined. It was the eyes that made him laugh, all dark purple and indeed quite dramatic.

"The purple really makes the blue in your eyes pop," Maya nodded. Then she looked at Summer and beamed, "What do you think?"

Bucky turned to her so she could get a better look, and Summer covered her mouth with her hand to keep from laughing before clearing her throat. "Very good job, Maya. He's very pretty."

Maya nodded wholeheartedly. "Hold on, I need to take a picture for my portfolio."

She then ran off, and Bucky slowly turned back to Summer and asked, "Did she just say 'portfolio'?"

Summer merely smiled, and Paul, back in his earlier spot on the opposite couch, nodded and said, "Welcome to the family. That was your initiation."

Summer laughed and he smiled, and a moment later, when Sarah and Paul were distracted, Summer nudged him with her elbow without disturbing Marina and said, "You sure do seem to be a sucker for girls convincing you to do ridiculous things."

"She's almost as good at it as you are," he replied with a grin. "Must be a family trait."

She nodded, then giggled. "I'm sorry, I can't concentrate with that smoky eye thing you've got going on. It's really distracting. I have to ask - back in the, uh, _bad_ old days, did you put on your Winter Soldier eyeliner yourself or did other people do it for you?"

He sighed heavily and gestured with his hand as he said, "First of all, it wasn't eyeliner. It's called black camouflage war paint, and yeah, I put it on myself."

She stifled a laugh. "Oh okay. So this probably doesn't feel as weird as it should," she grinned. "It really does bring out your eyes."

He rolled said eyes and then glanced at Marina and said, "You don't look like you're wanting to give her up anytime soon."

She shook her head. "Nope. Think you could help me sneak her out of here? I'm totally up for it."

"They might notice after awhile," he shrugged towards her brother and sister in law.

She sighed and nodded, looking down at the baby. Then, when she looked back up, Bucky could have sworn that she was on the verge of saying something that she then appeared to think better of before smiling and looking back down. He never got to ask what it was, because Maya was back with a camera and the rest of the visit went by in a flash.

From the story of his involvement in her grandmother's rescue seven decades ago to the faint tug he felt inside suspiciously near his heart every time he looked at Summer holding her baby niece, the night had left him with far more to think about than he had anticipated.

And the night only got more eventful from there.

* * *

After they got back to the tower and David was happily sleeping, Bucky, whose face was mostly cleaned of makeup now, watched in confusion as Summer emerged from her bathroom dressed for bed but quickly going for her phone and proceeding to seemingly text the crap out of someone after he helped her get into bed.

He sat near the foot of her bed, watching the distress on her face grow the more she typed, and finally he had to ask, "Are you... okay?"

She sighed and set her phone down. "Yeah... well, no. Apparently nobody in this whole place has what I need at the moment and now I have to ask you to do something that really shouldn't be embarrassing considering all we've been through especially with the hospital stuff and I mean my _God_ you've _shaved my legs_ for me so -"

He raised his eyebrows at her and caused a brief pause in her rambling. He smiled and she rolled her eyes at herself, taking a breath and explaining, "I need you to uh... run to the store and get me some... things. You know. Girl things."

His blank stare was all she needed to know that he didn't get what she was hinting at.

"Once a month girl things," she clarified.

"Oh." Well that wasn't so bad. He furrowed his brows and asked, "Why is that embarrassing?"

"Well, it's... you know. Sometimes guys act like idiots about stuff like that. At least in my experience," she muttered.

Since her experience was limited to only one other man, Bucky fought a roll of his eyes and restrained the insulting comment he wanted to make towards him. He just wasn't worth the breath. Instead, he focused on a more pressing matter. "... What... kind... do you need?"

"Uh, well, yellow box, and... you know what, I'll just send you a picture," she shrugged. "Just make sure and get the same thing. And only name brand. Definitely no knock offs." She paused, cringing. "And get the big box."

"Okay. Anything else?"

She paused again. "I mean if you wanted to throw in a giant dark chocolate bar, I wouldn't argue with you."

He smiled at her answer and then stood up, walking to where she sat on the bed and leaning down to kiss her all too briefly. When he pulled away, she pulled him back down and then used her thumb to wipe at the corner of his left eye, explaining, "You had some leftover eyeshadow there. You know, you kinda look you wore eyeliner to bed last night and never washed it off." She paused, then grinned. "I kinda like it."

"Then enjoy it while it lasts," he replied, kissing her one more time before getting up to grab a hat and get on his way. The last thing he did before leaving was turn on the holographic function in his arm and then tell Summer he'd be back in probably twenty minutes.

On his way down the hall, his phone buzzed with the picture Summer had just sent him of the item he needed to get, and as he opened it, he passed Sam headed the way that he had come from.

"Going somewhere this late?" Sam asked curiously, taking notice of the hat and the normal-looking left arm.

Bucky shrugged and then held up his phone to show the picture, which Sam glanced at before giving Bucky a pat on the shoulder and saying, "Good man. You should throw some chocolate in while you're at it. Just speaking from experience."

"Already planned on it," Bucky grinned before heading back on his way.

There was a drugstore not far away, just a brief number of blocks east on a corner, and the night was as quiet as New York ever got. To Bucky's relief, getting to the store and finding what he needed ended up being exceedingly easy. The hardest part was actually figuring out the chocolate and trying not to burst an artery at the _price_ of the stuff. He was getting used to the ridiculously inflated prices of the current century, but almost $15 for a bar of chocolate that would be gone in about three minutes seemed steep, especially considering others next to it were even more expensive.

Nonetheless, he plunked down the cash and then got out of there. True to his undying habits, he never stopped scoping out his surroundings as he walked from one side of the street to the other, but as usual, he spotted nothing out of the ordinary. He was as anonymous as anyone else in the city that night, but when he walked past an alleyway that laid between a pizza place and an office building, he heard what sounded like a muffled cry come from within it and stopped in his tracks.

He didn't move a muscle, listening carefully and straining to hear more. The next sound he caught was rushed whispering and another muffled noise, then, after another moment, a rather loud smack.

He didn't think about his next actions or the potential consequences of them. There was no debate or uncertainty in silently putting down the plastic bag in his hands to the ground, then once again scoping out his surroundings while pressing his back to the far edge of the office building. One short, unseen glance down the alleyway revealed two men and one girl, the latter of which was being held by one of them to the wall with a knife to her throat.

They were too far away to not see him coming. He quickly walked to around to the back of the building from the other side, edging closer to the alleyway with silent footsteps. He stopped once he reached it, then took the wall again, listening to the harsh whispers of one of the men as they told the girl, "Be quiet and it'll go a lot faster."

Bucky reached down to his boot and pulled out the knife that he never left home without. Considering the fact that there was no time to waste, he swiftly turned the corner and then threw the knife directly at the back of the man who was pressing the girl to the wall. He cried out sharply and sprung off of her, and then the second guy turned around and whipped out his own blade the minute he realized they were under attack. The guy cursed and then swung the knife at Bucky, who threw up his left arm and ended up with a slash in the sleeve of his hoodie. But at the unexpected resistance, the knife fell out of the guy's hand, and Bucky knocked him to the ground with one punch to the face.

The girl - who appeared to be uninjured - scrambled out of the alley and gave Bucky a shaky thank you on her way out, which he acknowledged with a nod. He then moved for the first guy, who was stumbling against the wall while futilely trying to reach the arm in his back. He grabbed the knife by the handle and yanked it out of the man, and as he cried out in another fit of pain, he turned him around and shoved him against the wall with the knife to his throat. The second guy, back on his feet, tried to charge at Bucky again, but he easily sent him back to the ground with one kick to his midsection while still holding the other man to the wall.

"Don't kill me," the man started pleading, and Bucky could feel him shaking under his arm and the blade he still held to his throat. "Please don't, I was just... just..."

"I know what you were doing," Bucky said, his voice low and as threatening as his inhumanly tight grip on the man. "I _hate_ men like you."

The man swallowed and clenched his eyes shut as his very bones shook in terror. "Just... just... please, oh God..."

As easy as it would have been to snap the piece of garbage's neck and rid the world of one more rapist, Bucky wasn't as mad with rage as he had been the last time he had nearly killed a man. It was a far more righteous sort of anger, rather than the shocked and vengeful desire to rip the person limb from limb.

This man wasn't worth staining his hands with more blood. Perhaps no man was. But that didn't mean he couldn't deliver some justice of his own.

A knee powered with all of his serum-enhanced strength to the man's groin rendered the criminal in so much pain that he could not even cry out, let alone breathe or do anything at all but crumple to the ground in a heap. Bucky stared down at him, only hoping that there would be permanent damage. Then he glanced to his left and saw the other guy on all fours, trying to scramble to his feet and get away.

Bucky walked rather casually to the guy and thwarted his attempts by stomping on his leg, pinning him to the ground, and the crack of bones and resulting shout of pain alerted him to the fact that he might have done it a little harder than he'd intended.

The second guy now lying on his back and crying actual tears while gripping his most likely broken leg, and the first no more able to get up and flee himself, Bucky's head then shot up at the sound of approaching sirens.

Maybe the girl had called the cops after getting away, or perhaps a pedestrian had seen the fight break out in the alleyway from the street. Either way, it was time for him to leave.

But first, he leaned down and used the second guy's jacket to clean his knife of the blood on it from the first guy, and then he slipped it back into his boot. The last thing he did before leaving was grab the man's throat and say in his most overtly terrifying tone, "One word about me and I will find you anywhere you try to go."

Then he stood up and left the alley without a second glance. Just before the police arrived, he circled back to the front of the office building, picked up the plastic bag he'd left there, and then began calmly walking home.

On the outside, there was nothing suspicious about him. He was just another guy on the street, walking home with a bag from the store dangling from his fingers. On the inside, however, adrenaline was still flowing freely through his veins, and his mind was racing with the dark thrill of what he had just done. He felt _anything_ but calm, but what struck him the most was how very _good_ he felt.

He certainly hadn't left the tower with the intent to stop a horrible crime in progress and then inflict serious injuries on the perpetrators. But now that he had, and in the process proven to himself that he _could_ curb the still-very present instincts to kill his targets without a second thought... he would be lying if he said that the idea of doing it again didn't sound incredibly tempting.

Just exactly _what_ had he tripped and fallen into?

* * *

Summer had moved to Bucky's room while he had been gone, mostly because that was where her laptop was, and she passed the time waiting for him to get back by writing a few more hundred words of her story. It had been a long day, but in the pleasant way, and her eyes were starting to grow heavy as she typed up words that she hoped would still sound good in the morning.

When she heard the door open, she looked up from her computer screen and smiled as Bucky walked inside and shut the door behind him. He smiled back, but something immediately seemed off about him. She wasn't sure what it was at first, and since it was possible that she was imagining things, she simply chirped, "Oh, yay, you're home. How did it go?"

"Fine," he said, dropping the bag on the floor next to where she sat on his bed. She closed her laptop and pushed it aside as he leaned down to kiss her, and one of her hands went to his arm out of habit. She didn't expect to find a rip in his sleeve, like something sharp had torn right through it.

After the kiss, she looked down at where her fingers still touched the sleeve and asked, "What happened to this?"

He shrugged and pulled the arm away, straightening up to take the hoodie off. "I got you chocolate."

She raised an eyebrow slightly, taking mental note that subject change was not on his rather extensive list of various skills. Still, she replied with her thanks and then reached into the bag to grab the item. It _was_ chocolate, after all.

He then disappeared into the bathroom for awhile, and she pondered the possibilities of just what was afoot as she ate the chocolate. None of them were particularly good, but since Bucky wasn't shaking or wild-eyed or covered in blood, chances are, whatever it was hadn't been that bad. Maybe some idiot had tried to mug him? It had to be _something_ \- his clothes didn't get ripped up for no reason.

When he re-emerged from the bathroom, she watched him carefully as he stripped off his shirt and then his jeans, though not for the obvious reasons. At least not _entirely_ for those. She chewed and didn't take her eyes off of him as he climbed into bed, staying on top of the covers and looking at her blankly when he noticed the contemplative way she was staring at him.

But before he could say a word, she broke off one of the squares of dark chocolate in her hand and offered it to him between two of her fingers. "Wanna share?"

He looked from her fingers to her eyes with mild surprise, and then smiled for just a second before nodding. He leaned forward, and she brought the chocolate to his mouth, ignoring what it did to her to watch him take a bite and look her in the eye as he did it. His lips brushed over her fingertips, and she bit her lip without realizing it, thinking that maybe she should have done something more conventional like... actually asking him what was wrong, instead of hand-feeding him and giving him the perfect opportunity to distract her.

Still, she broke off a second piece and then repeated her last action, only this time not having to reach as far because he was sitting much closer to her now. He also seemed to enjoy the second piece more, or maybe just her obvious reactions, since he _really_ went for it that time. He ate from her fingertips slowly, looking up at her through dark lashes and then closing his eyes as he sucked lightly at her fingers before drawing away.

She stared at him open-mouthed, at a loss and almost forgetting that she still needed to ask him a question. Then, after he swallowed, he looked up at her in a way that was unexpectedly predatory, and suddenly he was invading her space and only breaking his heavy gaze upon her to kiss her with an unexpected and dizzying passion.

Her questions were dead on arrival, lost to the far more pressing matters of his mouth hungrily taking hers and the taste of the dark chocolate on his tongue. He was relentless and she had no motivation to stop him, especially when he groaned quietly into her mouth and then broke away, sucking in a breath and moving his kisses to her neck. She held on to the back of his head and gasped a little in surprise when his right hand slid underneath the top lace trim of her camisole and groped her unapologetically, all while he panted on her neck between nearly ravenous open-mouth kisses.

Not that she would complain, but he hadn't been like _this_ since... when? It took her a moment to gather the brain power to think at all, but then she remembered that this was similar to how he would act following a successful night in the field.

But that didn't make sense... did it?

Then, as suddenly as he had pounced upon her, he let go of her and pulled away, shutting his eyes and muttering regretfully, "I'm sorry. I forgot you're... you don't usually want to do anything when you're..."

He gestured vaguely then towards her abdomen, and she stared at him silently, knowing what he was getting at but suddenly too concerned to worry about answering him. He brushed his hair back with his hand and muttered another apology, and then as he fixed her top for her, she blurted, "What _happened_ tonight?"

He looked at her with what might have been relief or maybe surprise - it was hard to tell because there was simply too much going on in his eyes - and then, with a deep breath, he eased away from her and sat with his back to the wooden frame behind them. She straightened up, the blood slowly returning to her head over the next few moments that they spent in silence, and she watched him carefully as he dragged his right hand over his face and searched for words to say.

"I don't know," he finally answered.

"... Was it HYDRA? Did someone find you, or..."

He shook his head. "No. Nothing like that." He paused, staring ahead, and then said quietly, "I stopped two guys from raping a girl in an alley."

Whatever she had been expecting, it wasn't that. She raised her eyebrows and replied, "Oh. _Oh_. That's good. How did that happen?"

He then launched into the story, which was actually quite short the way that he told it. She listened intently, watching his face shift from confused to worried to contemplative as he described what it was like to stop something bad from happening to an innocent person and then proceed to beat the crap out of their attackers.

Judging by the words he used and the look in his eye, he had _really_ enjoyed playing vigilante for a night. He just wasn't sure what to make of that fact.

"... It would have been so easy to kill them," he said after he concluded the story. "Took barely anything to break the one guy's leg. I mean, they would have deserved it, but..."

"I'm glad you didn't," she said gently, reaching to take one of his hands in hers. She took the closest one, which was his left, and went on, "Because yeah, maybe they did deserve it, but... that burden doesn't fall on you. It's not your place to take any more lives. Unless you _had_ to, to save innocent people."

Bucky nodded, looking down at their hands and staying silent for a moment. "I just didn't expect it to feel so good."

"Well... I'm sure it was an adrenaline rush, which... would explain what happened a few minutes ago too," she grinned faintly, catching his eye and making him smile back for just a second before their expressions grew serious again. "And you helped someone. That girl was lucky you were there."

She hoped her words would reassure him, but his eyes remained serious and torn. "But I shouldn't enjoy hurting people. Even if they're bad, I shouldn't."

She reached her free hand towards his face and turned it towards her. "Maybe not. Maybe if you were normal. But the thing is, you're not normal. You've been through way too much to be normal, and that's okay. It's just the way it is. And I don't think anybody could understand what it's like to be a victim better than you. So maybe you _should_ enjoy helping other people not become victims too."

He stared at her, obviously surprised by what she was saying. She didn't know why - had he really expected her to scold him or something?"

"What if I wanted to do it again?" he asked quietly.

"Well... I'd say that you need to be careful and not ever get caught, since you're... you know... a fugitive and all and like half the world wants you dead. So maybe wear a ski mask next time or something?"

If it was possible, he stared at her in even more surprise and borderline bewilderment. "You're _okay_ with this?"

She shrugged and drew a breath, replying, "I mean, yeah, if you decide to go and beat up criminals at night, I'll worry because that's what I do, but I won't try to stop you. I know you've been bored."

He shook his head and immediately started protesting. "No I haven't."

She gave him a knowing look. "Yes you have. There haven't been any missions for awhile, and you're not exactly the kind of person who can sit around a house all day and be content. I get that. And if this helps with that and makes you feel good... then I say do it. And you'll be helping people, which is something I _know_ you're good at, more than most."

His expression soft, his thumb ran over her hand as he asked, "Are you sure?"

She nodded. "As long as you promise me that you'll be careful and not get arrested."

He nodded back. "I'm pretty good at that."

"And cover your face. A hat and a hoodie isn't good enough."

He nodded again. "Okay."

She paused, then looked down the length of his bare torso before adding, "And just make sure you give me some warning next time so that I can expect the whole adrenaline-rush thing. Not that I'm complaining, but _holy_ _crap_, when you get like that..."

"Sorry," he smiled sheepishly. "But you fed me chocolate."

She blushed a little at the very recent memory, and then chuckled before leaning her head on his shoulder. "Yeah... big scary Winter Soldier turned part time vigilante, plays piano in his spare time and lets little girls give him makeovers, then turns into a sex god when fed chocolate by hand. Quite the resume you're building there."

His arm wrapping around her shoulders, he kissed her hair and said, "Doesn't sound so bad when you put it like that."

She then looked up at him and smiled, shaking her head. "Nope. Not bad at all. That's kind of the thing with good guys. They're _good_. So you should probably get used to it."

He answered her with a sweet smile and a kiss, and though she would worry about him should he choose to pursue this new path, she wouldn't stand in his way. Anything that made him feel better and feel like he was making up for the horrors of his past could be nothing but a good thing.

And _good_, whether he was ready to believe it or not, was the perfect word to describe what he was. If this helped him to truly realize that and believe it, then for that reason alone, this was more than worth it.

**A/N: So, as promised last week, here we have an actual plot-relevant chapter, with a bunch of feels thrown in :D I just want you all to know that we are getting VERY close to some good stuff. Really fracking close. So keep sticking with me. We're maybe like... halfway through the story lol (... or less? Oh God I don't even know). But thank you guys so much for reading, reviewing, following, and/or lurking, I appreciate all of these things SO MUCH and I love you ALL :D big, big thanks to midnightwings96 for helping me fix parts of this chapter that I initially hated, and just always being amazing &amp; helpful. I shall see you all next week! :D**


	33. Chapter 33

A lot could change in four months, and in Summer's case, her life was no exception. Seemingly in the blink of an eye, she was now event coordinator for the New York division of Stark Industries, David was officially in school for the first time in his life, and she was even walking again - with the aid of a black cane that she had personalized with various sparkly stuff, prompting Darcy to dub it her "pimp cane".

Life was moving quickly, but life was _good_. She felt almost like her old self again, in the physical sense, and David was not only functioning but _thriving_ in school. It had taken some time for him to adjust to the change in routine and the school environment, but he had come a long, long way from the boy who used to fear the slightest changes. She was deeply, ridiculously proud of him.

But, with change always came a few downsides, and in this case, it was saying goodbye to one of her favorite people as he decided that it was time to go home.

"Are you sure you have to go back?" Summer asked quietly, fixing her coffee in the kitchen as Thor grabbed a cup for himself and sighed heavily next to her.

"Yes, I'm afraid that I am," he said, smiling at the slight pout on her face. "I have enjoyed my time here greatly, but... my instincts tell me that I am needed at home more than I am here."

She sighed and sipped from her cup as she watched him pour one for himself. "Well... you'll come back, though, right? Within the next hundred years? Like, don't lose track of time up there and come back after we're all dead. I'd be majorly sad."

He laughed. "Do not worry. I will miss Earth very much. You will all remain very close in my thoughts."

She smiled goofily, still a little starstruck by him after all this time. "I'll hold you to that. I just wish you could wait a few days. I've got that benefit tomorrow that I've been planning and an appearance from Thor would have _really_ made it a big deal..."

"Ah, yes, my apologies. Next time?" he smiled. "But I have no doubt that it will go splendidly."

She smiled nervously. "Well, I hope so. It's my first big event that I've planned. I've gotten to practice with a few little things, but... yeah. This is either gonna be awesome or awesomely horrible."

"It will undoubtedly be awesome," he grinned, giving her arm a pat.

She smiled appreciatively, hoping he was right and in absolutely no position to argue, and then she said, "Oh, make sure you say goodbye to David, otherwise he'll cry for a week."

"Of course! I would not forget. Where is the boy?"

The boy was in the living room, sitting on the floor in front of two of his new favorite people, getting some time to play with Legos in before Summer would take him to school. It was something of a routine now, David dragging Vision and Wanda into his construction of various things with the little blocks, but it was less dragging and more of a team effort. Wanda would make David positively squeal with glee by moving the pieces around with her powers and making Lego planes that he built actually fly on their own, and when Summer had told her that she didn't _have_ to do it if she didn't want to, she said that it was actually a good exercise in control for her. Vision, meanwhile, would watch with his quiet curiosity, going along with whatever David asked of him. At that point, it was hard to believe that the two relative newcomers hadn't always been a part of life at the tower.

Wanda in particular had undergone a marked but gradual change, going from quiet and grief-stricken to more talkative and much more at ease as time went on. The memory of her lost twin was never far from her mind, but she was adjusting to her new life and growing through the pain rather than letting it hold her back.

There was something else that was equally remarkable to Summer, however, and as she made her way on her sparkly cane to the living room, she saw it in action. Since David still refused to say a word out loud to anyone, he alternated between a mix of sign language and gestures to get his points across, but with Wanda, he didn't have to do either. Instead, Summer watched him turn around on the floor to look at Wanda and then gesture to the pile of unassembled Legos on the floor.

Wanda looked down at the Legos, then David, and she smiled as she leaned forward and touched the side of his head, just at his temple.

"Ah. A pirate ship. I can do this."

David then smiled and sat back and watched excitedly as the woman then looked down at the blocks and began assembling them without touching a single one. She could build such things fairly quickly now, much quicker than she had when David had first began asking her to do this, and the child had no idea that he was legitimately helping her learn valuable control and skills this way.

Vision watched with fascination and innocence in his almost-human eyes, and Summer and Thor were just as enraptured in watching a truly impressive pirate ship come together, piece by piece. Because Wanda had _seen_ the ship that David had wanted, she even colored it the way that he had imagined it. By the time that she was finished, she had smiled and sat back by a few inches, pleased with her work almost as much as David was.

He smiled hugely and then gestured for her to make it fly, so she nodded and did as he said. As Summer watched the pirate ship fly through the living room with red wisps of energy traveling behind it, Summer sighed and said, "You know, there's some seriously cool people who live in this tower, but you might actually be the coolest."

Wanda glanced back at her and smiled, briefly pausing the ship's flight as Thor agreed, "Yes, this is very impressive. Your control has come a long way in a very short amount of time."

"I have been practicing with weapons," she said, resuming the ship's lazy glide through the room. "Taking them apart, putting them back together. It was Steve's idea when he saw me doing this a month ago."

"Oh," Summer said, eyes widening. "So if some guy was coming at you with a gun, you could basically jam it or disarm it by moving the parts around?"

"Yes," she replied. "I can now disarm twenty automatic rifles at once, but the problem is how close I have to be to do it. But this," she moved the Lego pirate ship to the very edge of the living room and then sent it towards the kitchen, "this helps with that also."

"... In other words... coolest person ever," Summer shrugged, her point being made for her.

After a few more moments spent in admiration, Thor glanced outside the closest wall-length window and said, "I'm afraid I cannot linger any more. I am leaving from the new facility and must be on my way."

Summer's mood quickly went back to quietly sad, and Wanda brought the pirate ship back to dock on the floor as Thor stepped into the room and knelt down in front of David. "I'm afraid I must return to my own home today. But I will be back, I promise. And I will miss you."

David's previously happy face instantly fell, and Thor's did as well the moment he saw the boy's reaction. "I will visit soon, I swear. And when I do, I will bring you something. What would you like?"

David's face brightened somewhat then, and he tapped the back of Thor's shoulder as an answer. Thor glanced down at his little hand and then guessed, "A cape?"

David nodded, then turned to Wanda and gestured towards his head. Summer watched and was unashamedly overcome by jealousy as she watched the other woman literally peek into her son's mind. She loved that Wanda could do this and that David could communicate with her effortlessly, but _God_, what she would give to be able to do the same thing.

After Wanda had taken a look, she told Thor, "He wants a red cape, like yours, but with Captain America's star on it."

"Ah, the best of both worlds, as they say," Thor grinned. "I will have this made for you, out of the finest materials that my realm has to offer. And when I visit next, I shall bring it with me. Deal?"

He nodded, then threw his arms around the much, _much_ larger man in a big hug. Thor chuckled and hugged him back, and told him to be good and continue to be the valiant lad that he was before standing and giving his goodbyes to Vision and Wanda. Summer watched those as well, never not amused and fond of the way that he got along with Vision especially. There was just _something_ special about it, perhaps due to the fact that they were both worthy of one of the most legendary and powerful relics in the universe and that was definitely a compelling thing to have in common.

Then, a few moments later, Thor made his way back to Summer and nodded to her as he said, "I wish you the best of luck with your work and your continued recovery. I shall miss your delicious creations and your company."

Summer smiled like an idiot and blushed beyond her control as she then stuttered, "I, uh... yeah, I'm gonna miss you too. Actually, I'm gonna miss the _crap_ out of you. Don't take a year to come back."

"I shall do my best," he smiled, just before taking her hand and laying a friendly kiss on the back of it.

Her smile reached nearly terrifying proportions and the high pitched sound that came out of her mouth was somewhere between a giggle and a squeal, and he laughed as he released her hand.

"Never change, Lady Summer," he smiled. "And remember, as soon as I can manage it, you and the others are welcome to come and visit my home."

Her smile got even bigger somehow. "Really? I mean, I know you've invited me before, but... _really_?"

"Of course!" he grinned. "It will be a great joy for me to open my home to you as you have opened yours to me - in a manner of speaking, since this is Tony's home. But," he gave her shoulder a light pat, "you have helped to make it feel like a true second home, and I thank you for that."

Having been reduced roughly to a puddle on the floor by this, Summer stammered out a reply but wasn't sure what she even ended up saying. A moment later, however, he told her goodbye one more time and then she watched him leave, feeling like the very sun itself was leaving with him, because he truly was an enormous ray of sunshine in human - well, Asgardian - form.

But she believed him that he would be back soon. Focusing back on the matters at hand, she looked into the living room and said, "Go grab your backpack, kid. Time to go to school."

Since he actually enjoyed school, David didn't hesitate to obey, stopping on his way out only to give Wanda a hug that seemed to take her by surprise. She quickly smiled and lightly hugged him back, though, and when he drew away and did his little head gesture, she touched his temple again.

Summer watched as the other woman smiled again and then nodded to him. "You're welcome, David." He took her hand and put back on his head, and she paused a moment before nodding, "Yes, we can make a tower later."

He smiled again and then hopped off towards the hallway, all happiness and enthusiasm, and Summer smiled and watched him go before turning back to Wanda and admitting, "I am incredibly jealous of how you can do that. You have no idea."

"Your boy is smart," Wanda replied.

"Oh I know. He's doing great in school."

"No, you don't understand," Wanda shook her head. "He is _brilliant_. The level of detail that he imagines and the way that he processes what he sees - it is incredible."

"Really?" Summer asked.

"Yes. I am not surprised that he taught himself to play the piano. For him, it is easy."

Summer stood there and stared for a moment, having known this on some level already, of course, but to have David's unconventional brilliance confirmed by someone who had literally _seen_ it with her own mind... yeah. That was special.

She then felt her phone buzz and snapped out of it. "Oh man, I'm gonna be late. But thank you for telling me that, because that's just... wow. I don't even know what to say. Oh!"

Having glanced at Vision and just remembered something as a result, she went to the table and grabbed her purse where it sat in a chair. She then dug out a small square-shaped device and then headed back into the living room, sitting next to Vision as she smiled brightly and held it up.

"As promised, I made you a playlist of music that I decided you need to hear," she explained, handing him the iPod. "Since you're... you know. Like five months old and all. Anyway," she pointed to the circular button beneath the tiny screen and said, "everything's already on there, you just have to push play. Now some of this you might find... weird, or... well, I don't know. I'm kind of obsessed with Justin Timberlake." She then glanced over to Wanda and asked, "You know him, right?"

"Who?" she squinted.

"Oh. Okay, never mind. Anyway, he's awesome, and I know Tony's made you playlists too, but I figured you could take a break from classic rock for awhile."

"Thank you," Vision replied politely, nodding gratefully to Summer. "I like music very much."

"It's great," she smiled. "And you can keep the iPod, too. I've got my phone so I don't need it. Let me know what you think later when I get home."

With that, Summer smiled and told both of them goodbye as she headed out of the living room. Vision, meanwhile, pushed the play button and then carefully put one of the white earbuds into his ear, and before he could put in the second one, he glanced over at Wanda. She had been watching him out of curiosity, but she looked away as soon as he had noticed.

But then he held out the second earbud to her, a silent offer that she glanced down at in surprise before looking up to find a small, friendly smile on his face. Hiding a smile of her own, she took the earbud and put it in her ear, looking back down to her hands in her lap. She snuck another glance later, only to find him still watching her, and she couldn't hide her smile that time.

Summer, who had seen all of this, put her purse on her shoulder and raised her eyebrows, then looked away thoughtfully and shrugged with a smile before heading to her room with the help of her "pimp cane".

Now to get David to school, herself to the office, and call Bucky sometime in between all of that to find out how his first morning at his own new "job" was coming along.

* * *

"So... this is, for all intents and purposes," Steve said, "the new SHIELD."

Looking out at the huge building, sprawling building before him from under the brim of his hat, Bucky said, "But you're not calling it that, right?"

"I left that up to the boss. And so far, no."

Bucky nodded, looking around the rather huge room that they were standing in. It was surrounded by windows, and the space was mostly open. Steve had brought him here this early because it was mostly empty at this hour, at least in this part of the building, and despite the fact that Bucky was "on the team" as much as anybody else was, the government and authorities didn't need to know that.

"Thought you were the boss," Bucky said dryly, turning towards Steve who merely shrugged.

"Maybe for the team I am," he replied. "But as far as this whole place... nah."

"Guess sitting behind a desk has never been your thing," Bucky nodded, walking around and stopping in front of one of the windows. The place was tucked away from civilization an hour outside of the city, and quite a few precautions were in place to keep it from being unintentionally stumbled upon. The security made military bases look positively open to the public.

Bucky yawned as he looked outside, and then next to him, Steve remarked, "Skip your coffee today?"

He shrugged. "No, just... didn't sleep much."

"Ah. Wonder why."

Bucky grinned, though Steve's assumption was quite false. It had been four months since he had accidentally taken on the role of nighttime vigilante, and now it was a regular part of his life. Several nights a week he'd pull a black ski mask over his face, at Summer's insistence, and would find criminals to beat up and victims to get to safety. Nobody knew but Summer, and while he wanted to tell Steve, he kept it to himself for the sake of not making the man worry. Steve worried enough, even now, and Bucky didn't want to add to that.

"Anyway," Steve said, leading him away from the window, "we've gotta get you a new uniform."

"New uniform?" Bucky said, scrunching his face a little. "Why?"

"Well, maybe not a new one, but we need to at least upgrade the one you've got."

"I like mine the way it is," Bucky shrugged.

"But," Steve said, tapping Bucky's right sleeve on top of his shoulder, "it's missing something."

Bucky stopped walking and gave Steve a weary look as he said, "You want to stick a big 'A' on it, don't you?"

"Not a _big_ 'A'. Same size as mine," Steve shrugged with a smile. "Just because you won't be visible to the public doesn't mean you won't be as much a part of the team as anyone else. In some ways, that might make you one of the most important ones. The stuff people never see tends to be the stuff that saves the most lives."

His recent time on the streets had proven as much. Bucky nodded finally and said, "Fine. I get a raise with the promotion, right?"

Steve grinned but before he could reply, a different voice behind them said, "You're asking the wrong person about that."

Bucky turned along with Steve and, for the first time since the events that had led him to breaking free of HYDRA, came face to face with his first failed assignment.

Of all of his previous targets, he remembered Nick Fury possibly the clearest, mostly because he remembered the frustration of having the man slip away into a hole in the middle of the damn pavement after surviving his first attack. Now he felt the familiar sensation of guilt rising up, and surprise when the man simply walked up to them without hostility in his eyes.

Well, _eye_.

"Nick, this is Bucky," Steve said, stating the obvious. "Bucky, this is Nick Fury. The boss."

"... Sorry," Bucky told the older man, because it was the only thing that seemed appropriate to say at the moment.

"Yeah, you were a real pain in my ass," Fury replied. "But I survived."

And that was no easy feat, either. Bucky distinctly recalled being very sure that he had taken Fury out, back when it had happened. He was, however, quite glad to be wrong.

"So," Fury said, "you two ready to get to work?"

"That's the plan," Steve said, glancing over at Bucky.

"Good." Then Fury looked at Bucky before walking off, adding as an afterthought, "Better make hiding your fugitive ass in here worth my while, Barnes."

And with that, Nick Fury was gone, and Bucky turned back to Steve and said, "He's nice."

"You'll get used to it," Steve grinned in reply. "Anyway, follow me. You're gonna like the training room."

"Training room?" Bucky asked, falling into step at Steve's side.

"It's more like a training _wing_," Steve said. "The others are gonna be here in about an hour. And we're losing Thor to Asgard today, so... expect to be busy from here on out."

Bucky nodded, yawning again, and Steve watched him from a side glance before remarking, "You might want to tell Summer to start taking it easy on you."

His yawn turned into a chuckle and he replied, "I'd rather take no sleep."

Steve chuckled back and shook his head, and as the two of them headed off towards the area they'd likely be spending a lot of their time in from here on out, Bucky couldn't help but notice that in a weird way, it felt a lot like home.

Knowing that his real home was waiting back at the tower for him to come back later that day made everything feel all the more right.

"So this is a permanent thing, right?" Bucky asked as he and Steve made their way down a long hallway.

"You mean the team and your place on it? Yeah," Steve replied, looking at him curiously. "Why?" Bucky shrugged, and Steve asked knowingly, "Been thinking about permanent things lately? Or maybe... _making_ certain things permanent?"

Bucky scoffed quietly but grinned in a way that was all the confirmation Steve needed. When he realized there was no point in playing it off, Bucky admitted, "Maybe."

Steve smiled. "Sounds like a plan to me." He paused. "Do you _have_ a plan?"

"Not exactly. Just kinda... thinking. And waiting."

"For what?"

Bucky shrugged. "I don't really know."

"Well, don't wait too long. Not getting any younger there, pal."

Steve grinned and Bucky rolled his eyes, but inside, he knew Steve was right.

He certainly had a lot to start thinking about, now that he was no longer afraid to.

* * *

"So," Paul asked over the phone, "what's it like throwing together a huge benefit for at one of the tallest buildings in Manhattan?"

"Um... a fricking lot of phone calls and emails, mostly," Summer replied, balancing her phone on her shoulder as she checked a roast that had been cooking all day in one of the world's biggest crock pots. "I just want to fast forward to tomorrow night and everything turn out fine so I can go back to, you know, functioning."

"Sounds like you're functioning pretty good," Paul replied. "What's the benefit for?"

"An autism foundation," she replied, gesturing for David to wait a minute as he hovered around her, wanting her attention. "Pepper said that SI needed good PR after the whole giant evil killer robot thing happened because of Tony, so I suggested a benefit for a really good foundation. Turns out this one helps fund David's school, which is the best special needs school in the whole city. So yeah. Should be great PR. If it actually goes well."

"As obsessive and overthinking as you are, I'm pretty sure it will," Paul said.

"Yeah, well... hopefully," she said, finally giving in and letting David drag her out of the kitchen and towards the table, where his backpack was. "Oh and my big doctor's appointment is tomorrow."

"Oh, you mean _the_ appointment where they're gonna tell you you're basically healed?"

"I hope so," she sighed, watching David excitedly unload essentially every last thing in his backpack in order to get to, apparently, a coloring book. "I mean I feel pretty good. I get around okay with the cane and probably won't need it much longer. I can work all day and just feel normal exhausted after..."

She trailed off mid-sentence, freezing when David happily shoved a drawing on a loose piece of paper into her hands. She looked at the picture and stared, her mouth hanging open, and Paul asked in her ear, "... You still there?"

"Yeah, I'm here... but I'm gonna call you back," she said, quickly hanging up and then sitting down in the nearest chair as a smile grew on her face.

It was a crayon drawing with the words "my family" at the top of the page. She figured his teacher must have had the kids each draw their families as an assignment. David's was of three people, a little bit better than stick figure status but not by much - drawing wasn't one of his talents, at least not yet. One was little with brown hair and brown eyes, and above his head was the word "me". He stood between two people, the shorter of which was a girl with very long dark hair and big circles on her chest (she'd have to thank him for _that_ later). Above her said "Mama".

The third figure, the tallest, had hair the same dark brown shade as the other two, but he had a hat on top of his head. His left hand was a bit of a mess, and she could tell that he had drawn a silver stick hand before he must have remembered that he wasn't supposed to do things like that outside of their circle, so then he drew over it with black, which made it look a bit like a glove. And above his head said "Daddy".

This had been a long time coming, and she knew that. There had been so many remarks from others, so many displays of deepening affection between Bucky and her son, and yet seeing the word "Daddy" itself hit her like a tidal wave of emotion that she hadn't been prepared for.

She turned to David, who was still excitedly awaiting her reaction, and she said with eyes that might have been just a little bit shiny, "David, this is... _wow_."

She drew him in for a hug, and after he hugged her back, he pulled away and tapped his left shoulder - his sign for Bucky - and asked with his hands if Bucky would like it.

"I think he's gonna love it," she smiled, trying very hard not to cry like she wanted to. "We'll show him as soon as he gets home."

David happily accepted that and put the drawing back in his coloring book and then put that back into his backpack, taking it all very seriously, and Summer almost jumped when, right on time, the elevator dinged and a bunch of Avengers came streaming on to the floor.

What David wanted to show Bucky, though, didn't seem like a group activity to Summer. So, when Bucky approached them and smiled before giving her his customary hello kiss, she kissed him back and then said, "Hey, David made something at school today and he wants to show you. Can we go in your room for a minute?"

"Yeah," Bucky nodded before narrowing his eyes at her slightly. "Have you been crying?"

She smiled. "Nope. Come on, let's go."

She grabbed her cane and then the three of them headed away from the kitchen and down the hallway, Bucky's hand in hers as an unnecessary but welcome extra support. Some days he still acted like she was still immobile and needed his help to get around, even though she was back to work and mostly okay, but she didn't mind the lingering habit.

Once inside his room, David plunked down on the floor and immediately got to work unloading the drawing again, and Bucky sat down on the foot of his bed as he waited.

"How'd work go?" he asked conversationally.

"Good," she smiled, still standing near the door. "Got some last minute stuff taken care of. Everything looks like it's in order for tomorrow. How was _your_ work?"

"Good I guess," he shrugged. "Saw the new building. Helped Steve with the training for awhile."

"Oh, how was that?"

He widened his eyes a little and said, "For someone who's not actually throwing any, Wanda packs a hell of a _punch_."

Before he could elaborate, however, David was shyly walking up to him and holding the drawing behind his back, and Bucky smiled at him with a puzzled expression. "What you got there?"

"Go on and give it to him," Summer urged David gently, and the boy finally relented, handing the piece of paper over and then intently studying his shoes as Bucky took the drawing, then glanced up at Summer in amusement. She then watched him look down and immediately, his eyes turned serious and just as stunned as she had known they would.

He stared at the drawing for a few long moments, and when he looked up next, it was to look at David with that same expression of undeniably pleasant shock on his face. It had hit him as hard as it had Summer, perhaps even more so.

She knew David would be shyer with her there - he was silly that way - so she smiled and quietly said, "I'll, uh... give you guys a minute. I'm gonna jump in the shower and then finish dinner."

"Okay," Bucky nodded to her, the two of them sharing a small but very real unspoken moment just through the small smiles on their faces. Now he knew why she had been teary eyed a few moments earlier, and she knew that this moment was every bit as important as she had first suspected it would be.

She slipped out the door and closed it behind her, leaning against it for a moment and feeling like she could cry for an hour, in the very best way possible.

Every step down the road that she was on had been followed by doubt like a stubborn shadow that she simply couldn't shake. Every single decision, every time David was unwittingly put in danger, every time he had to endure another major change because of who she had fallen in love with - it had wreaked havoc on her brain and her guilt, but standing where she stood now, she knew beyond even her deepest doubts that it all been more than worth it.

* * *

David had known when he had first drawn the picture that it was a change, and that it would probably end up being really important. The truth was, when he had been sitting there in the middle of the classroom, watching his classmates scribble drawings of their own families, he hadn't thought twice about what to draw himself. And when it came time to write the names above the heads of the stick-ish figures he had drawn, he had hesitated only to remember the proper spelling of the word "Daddy", since he had never written it before.

But what else could he call Bucky? Ever since the accident - which had been even scarier than the old house blowing up, or the fire in the tower, in his opinion, even though he hadn't seen it - Bucky had been everything he imagined a daddy to be. He read him stories, helped put him bed, hugged him when he was scared, and he even made _cookies_ for him once.

And now he was standing there, in the middle of Bucky's room, embarrassed and kind of wanting to run away as Bucky continued to gape silently at him. But before he could turn on his heel and dash out, Bucky finally got a few words out.

"This... this is how you see me?"

David looked at the drawing still in Bucky's hands, then looked up and nodded once.

"This... word. You feel okay using it?"

He nodded again. Why wouldn't he feel okay using it? He'd never had a daddy before, and now he was pretty sure that he had one. That was _awesome_.

He watched as Bucky then looked down, brought his hand to his mouth for a moment, blinking a few times. Then he set the drawing down, took a breath, and patted the spot on the foot of the bed next to him. David crawled up and sat down as Bucky asked, and then he waited patiently as they sat there in silence for a while.

When Bucky finally spoke, it was very quietly and as he looked at David very seriously. "The thing is... I've been thinking about something for awhile now. And you're the one I need to talk to about it."

David listened intently, wondering what it could be. His face was the picture of utmost sobriety, and Bucky smiled faintly at him before saying, "That picture... I feel the same way. About you both."

David smiled brightly, those words doing more to make him happy than any others in recent memory. Feeling all warm and fuzzy, he watched Bucky's own smile grow in response to his, and then he said, "And I've been thinking... maybe... maybe it's time to ask your permission for something."

Permission? David furrowed his brows, understanding the word but not what Bucky needed his okay to do.

"See, usually, guys are supposed to ask the girl's father for this, but since she doesn't have one anymore, that makes you the boss," he smiled. "So I've got something really important to ask you."

Hanging on his every word, David's mind ran wild with far-fetched and nonsensical ideas of what this could _be_, but thankfully, his confusion was laid to rest a moment later.

Quietly, carefully, and sincerely, Bucky asked, "Would you let me ask your mother to marry me?"

David immediately decided that this was the single best thing he had ever been asked in all of his six years of life.

If it was possible to nod with one's entire body, that was exactly what David did, along with signing "yes" over and over, doing everything he possibly could to scream his approval without letting a single sound out of his mouth.

And Bucky seemed not only endlessly amused by his super-enthusiastic response but also incredibly happy himself, breaking out into one of his relatively rare _huge_ smiles that David had only seen once or twice before. Then he laughed, because David launched himself at him in a hug that he meant with every fiber of his being.

This was _perfect_. It was just like the movies where in the end the princess married the prince or, in _Tangled's_ case, the reformed criminal, and then they lived happily ever after - only this was way better. This was real life, and now David knew for sure that his mother would never be sad like she used to be.

He couldn't wait to see her face when she found out about this. Suddenly he pulled away and began urgently signing "When?", and it only took Bucky a second to pick up on the sign and reply, "Well, I'm not sure about that yet. I haven't planned it or anything. But I want to ask her soon. Can you keep this a secret until I do?"

_Oh man_. That would be hard, but David decided that he could be tough and keep the secret. He nodded, and Bucky thanked him before pausing and asking with a grin, "You want to see the ring I'm gonna give her if she says yes?"

He nodded so fast it actually hurt a little bit, and Bucky chuckled before scooting slightly up the side of the bed and reaching into the drawer of the table that sat next to it. When he came back, he held out a ring for David to look at, and David stared at it with big eyes.

He had no clue what it was, but it was definitely pretty.

"It was my grandmother's ring," Bucky said quietly. "That stone's called an opal. I already know she likes it, 'cause she said she did the first time she saw it. That was back on my birthday."

David remembered that day. It felt like it had been _ages_ ago. After they had both spent a few moments admiring the ring, Bucky put it back and then reminded him, "Just remember, this is our secret, okay? Even if she starts to think something's up, you can't tell her."

David nodded solemnly, taking this responsibility with the utmost of seriousness. Bucky then smiled at him, and David smiled back, one more burst of the warm and fuzzies within leading him to sign something to Bucky that he previously only signed to his mother before.

And when Bucky watched him do it, his entire face changed. It went from happy and excited to suddenly much more serious and... sad?

No, it wasn't sadness. It was like when his mom was so happy that she cried, or when she just didn't know what to say or do, but for good reasons.

And just like her, David saw real tears swimming in but not falling from Bucky's eyes as he nodded, meeting David's eyes and clenching his jaw as he smiled at him.

"Yeah... I love you too."

That was all David needed to hear. This time, Bucky hugged _him_, and David now knew that he had been wrong when he had thought on his 6th birthday that things couldn't get any better. They _had_ gotten better, like a _lot_, and he just couldn't believe his luck.

He had a daddy now, and not just any old guy, but one who really loved him and made him feel even safer than Steve did.

He was pretty sure that _now_ things couldn't get any better. But then again, he was just a kid; maybe he needed to leave that stuff to the grown ups and just focus on being happy and enjoying what he _knew_ was a real-life fairy tale of their very own.

* * *

After David showed Bucky the drawing, for the rest of the night, Summer noticed a distinct... _something_ in Bucky's eyes that lingered there. She wasn't sure what it was, but it was in the way that he smiled at her and watched her as she went about her normal motions. She figured that he was just happy, and she _definitely_ was, too.

Similarly, David quite nearly _bounced_ his way to bed later that night, and she couldn't get over how seemingly excited he was. But she totally understood it, or so she thought, because when Bucky had told her of what they talked about after she'd left, she melted all over again.

David was so hyper that it took him a bit longer than normal to settle him down, but eventually he did, and then Summer let Bucky carry her off to his room for the rest of the night. Her leg tended to hurt the most at night, since she was still getting used to being back on her feet again and her leg was still rebuilding itself, so she never protested when he took the burden of walking away from her.

As the night drew to a close and Bucky crawled into his bed next to her, Summer looked away from the computer on her lap and smiled at him as he yawned and dropped his head on his pillow.

"Late nights out on the street catching up with you?" she asked, moving one of her hands over to run her fingers through his hair.

"Maybe," he muttered, eyes closed and nearly purring at her touch.

"You should stay in tonight. Sleep until like noon if you can."

"I can't," he sighed. "Gotta crash a gang initiation in an hour."

Summer smiled and shook her head. "Okay, well... don't take _too_ long. Even part-time vigilantes need sleep, too."

"Wouldn't have been so bad if Steve hadn't dragged me out of here at like five in the morning."

Summer paused and asked, "Wasn't that like two hours after you got back last night?"

He nodded, eyes still closed. "Almost punched him in the face."

She smiled and then turned back to her computer screen, one hand on the touchpad while the other kept idling away in his hair.

He cracked one eye open and looked at the laptop like it a rather foul thing to have in bed. "What are you doing? Writing? Editing?"

"I... probably should be," she admitted, "but no. Just looking over some emails and the guest list for tomorrow."

He groaned and then dragged himself up to a sitting position, closing the laptop and earning a squeal of a protest from her before he shoved the computer down somewhere near the foot of the bed. He merely shrugged and pointed out, "_You_ need sleep too. And your party's gonna go fine."

"But what if it doesn't?" she bit her lip as he leaned against the headboard, both of them facing each other.

"What's the worst that could happen?" he asked.

"Um... not enough people show up. The band I hired doesn't make it. The caterers give everyone food poisoning. We run out of champagne. A fight breaks out. I could go on."

"And would any of those things be your fault?"

She paused. "Well... maybe not, but..."

"Exactly. So stop worrying and get some sleep. And this time tomorrow, after the doctor's told you you're all healed now and your benefit is amazing like I know it'll be, I can say I told you so."

She smiled and leaned into his touch as his right hand touched her face, brushing aside a few stray hairs that had fallen out of her haphazard side braid. "I don't know what I'm more nervous about, the appointment or the party. _Why_ did I schedule these things for the same day?"

"I don't know, but why don't you try to focus instead on how good _this_ day was instead of how nervous you are for tomorrow?"

Her smile returned. "Yeah, today _was_ pretty awesome. Mostly because of a certain little drawing that I wasn't expecting to see..."

Bucky smiled back, fingers playing absently with the end of her braid, which rested down near her stomach. "Yeah. I know what you mean."

"You're okay with it, right?" she asked, just in case. "I know I kind of put you on the spot, but I was just really excited when I saw the picture, and..."

"No, it was fine," he assured her. "And yeah, I'm okay with it."

"It's a big thing," she said. "A lot of guys would be running for the hills about now."

He smiled and shrugged slightly. "The hills are overrated."

She smiled back and paused, taking a moment to gather her words. "Thank you for all of this. I never used to think he'd ever have anyone to call daddy."

Bucky was quiet for a moment before he admitted, "I never thought anyone would ever _want_ to call me that."

"Shows how much _we_ know," she chuckled before laying her head on his shoulder.

He kissed the top of her head and brought his metal arm around her shoulders, fingers resting lightly on her upper arm as she closed her eyes, wishing for sleep to come and spare her the jitters she felt for the next day. But she had no such luck. She was wide awake, and she would probably stay wide awake even after Bucky slipped out of his window into the night to beat people up.

Finally, she sighed and pulled away, letting her head thump against the headboard as she closed her eyes and muttered, "Well, frick. I'm tired but I'm not and I am so screwed for tomorrow. I'm gonna need like... an iced Red Bull latte in the morning... which could give me major cardiac issues, but..."

Bucky sighed and then used the metal fingers still on her upper arm to start plucking at the strap of her nightgown. "Am I gonna have to knock you out?"

She opened her eyes and slowly turned them his way. "I mean... only if you _wanted_ to..."

He grinned and used his right hand to brush her braid over her shoulder, inching closer to her as he said, "All you've gotta do is _ask_, Summer."

She smiled back, blushing a little. "Yeah, but... you're tired and probably saving your energy for the whole gang-busting thing, so I wasn't gonna..."

He rolled his eyes and shushed her with a kiss, all gentle and slow like he had all the time in the world. When he pulled away, right hand on her side and moving down it incredibly slowly, he said, "I know it's been awhile since we've actually had sex, but I didn't think you'd forget about the whole stamina thing already."

"_Awhile_?" She repeated with raised eyebrows. "It's been an eternity."

He grinned and then turned his gaze from her eyes to her lips and then her neck, lips following after he said, "Well, once the doc says you're all better..."

She sighed and closed her eyes, his kisses on her neck soft and sweet as they travelled from the various points that he knew affected her the most. "They'd better say that tomorrow, because I really _really_ miss..."

"Miss what?" he asked, looking up from somewhere near her collarbone in between kisses as one of his hands pulled a strap all the way down her shoulder.

She playfully narrowed her eyes at him. "Oh no. Nope. You're not gonna lure me into that thing where you make me say stuff just to see how much I'll blush. Not falling for it this time."

He chuckled, succeeding in pulling down the top of her nightgown all the way to the top of her stomach. "Fair enough. Guess I could just tell you what I miss instead."

He kissed her before she could react either way, and then he made her squeak a little in surprise by pulling her down so that she was no longer sitting but laying underneath him. He smiled against her lips and then, with perfect caution, kept all of his weight from even touching her right leg but pressed just enough of it down on the rest of her, flooding her brain with memories of all the times he had been on top of her before and making her crave having it back even more.

"I miss this," he said between soft but ever-deeper kisses, metal arm resting next to her head and holding him up while his right gently pulled up the hem of her nightgown. "I miss watching your face and feeling you shake when I'm inside you and you're _just_ about to..."

She interrupted him with a sudden... _some_ kind of noise, which she wasn't sure was entirely human. "Oh my God, what the... are you trying to kill me or..."

He kissed her then said, "Hush. I'm not finished."

She whimpered, not just at his words but also at his hand as it caressed down over her hip, down to her thigh and back up again, still utterly lazy.

"I always know," he said, lips on her jaw as his hand moved up to grasp her breast, "because you start to shake and you also hold your breath a little. So..." He ground his hips against hers _just_ enough for her to feel it. "Right when I know it's time and I'm hitting the right spot... I do _this_," he suddenly gave her nipple a pinch, not hard enough to really hurt but enough to make her yelp in surprise while he grinned at her reaction. "And then you're _gone_. I miss that. The way you tighten up around me and try not to scream and wake everybody up."

"... I'm _gonna_ scream and wake everybody up if you keep talking like that," she said, her tone strangled and blood boiling even though he's really barely even touched her yet. All he did was grin and kiss her again, hand moving back down her stomach and only teasing where she was starting to desperately need it.

"I'm still not done," he replied, and she groaned while her face burned like the surface of the sun. Fingers dancing up her thigh as he rained kisses down her chest, he went on, "I _really_ miss you on top of me. You used to be so shy about it at first... least till you figured out how to do it just right, and now you just... let your head fall back and you just _ride_ me, so hard and fast and _perfect_, and it's the _fucking_ sexiest thing..."

"_Oh my God,_ stop," she squeaked, feeling like she would actually physically die if he said anything else, and he replied by groaning a little and kissing her with a sudden consuming fury. Things moved quickly then, both of them a sudden mess of need and thirst that wanted to be quenched in ways they wouldn't allow themselves to quite yet, but in the end, they could more than make do with what they had.

"Hope I'm not making you late for the whole... gang thing," she said through breathy gasps, their foreheads pressed together, her watching his face and gripping the back of his hair with one hand while her other was quite _occupied_, much like his own was with her at the time.

He shook his head, though he sped up his movements a little at those words, earning a shaky moan flying out of her mouth into his. Then he kissed her and opened his eyes, telling her, "You come first, sweetheart."

While those words _could_ have been an extension of his previous dirty talk, she knew they were not. She understood what he meant, and she also knew how very true and real those words were. She loved him even more for it.

And, just like always, after it was over and she was utterly spent, she ended up sound asleep before he slipped out the window and worked on his latest hobby.

* * *

Bucky had a lot to think about as he stood in the shadows on top of a roof in the rougher side of the city.

The gang he was waiting for hadn't arrived yet at the abandoned old shop that he was keeping an eye on down below, giving him time to be still in the quiet coolness of the night and let the day's events rattle around in his head. But no matter where his thoughts drifted, they all eventually circled back and centered on a single, undeniably powerful word: _Daddy_.

The word carried a heavy burden. He knew that as soon as he had seen it scrawled out in blue crayon, over a stick-like figure of himself. It was only a word, but it felt as if it had changed _everything_. It was one thing to be a father _figure_, though even that had taken him quite awhile to adjust to and accept. But to be more than just that and actually be called _Daddy_ by a kid who had never even really met his real father... it was _more_.

It was terrifying, because what did he know about raising a kid? What he knew was _this_ \- fighting, usually in the dark, away from the eyes of the world, unlike Steve and unlike most others "on the team". He wasn't even officially on the team, regardless of what Steve said, because he was still a ghost. Steve could plaster an "A" on his sleeve and that was nice, and it was nice that the others accepted him as well, but the world did not and, as far as he could see, never would.

Just how could a ghost be a father?

He was no closer to answering that question by the time that the gang finally showed up. They were making their way down an alley to the abandoned shop, and he pushed his inner thoughts away and adjusted the annoyingly hot ski mask over his face, slinking closer to the edge of the rooftop while staying in the shadows.

A noise behind him, however, alerted him to the fact that he was not quite as alone as he thought. He froze, training his ears to listen harder before he crept backwards against a stairwell that was close by. Slow footsteps came closer, and when they came close enough, he sprung out from behind the wall, grabbed the throat of his assailant and slammed the guy against the wall.

Then he immediately let the man go, because it was Steve, who immediately began choking out, "Bucky, it's me, it's me!"

He furrowed his brows and dropped his hand, dragging up his mask over his face and asking with exasperation, "What the hell, Steve?"

He was dressed like he was going to the park, blue hat pulled down over his head and everything, still very recognizable and not the slightest bit truly incognito.

_Idiot_.

"What the hell are you doing?" Steve retorted, confusion evident in his wide blue eyes. "You're dressed like a bank robber."

Bucky sighed impatiently and gestured to the street below. "I'm about to go pound some gang members into the pavement before they can do their sick little initiation rituals with two innocent girls."

Steve glanced at the street, then back to Bucky, his face still the picture of confusion. "Okay. That's good, I guess, but... why?"

Bucky sighed.

"Not _why_. How? How did you get started doing this?"

Rather than answer, Bucky asked, "Why did you follow me?"

"I was by my window and saw what looked like someone climbing out of yours. I went to your room but you weren't there and Summer was sleeping, so I..."

"Followed me," Bucky muttered.

"Why didn't you tell me about this?" Steve asked, eyes giving away that he might have been a little hurt by this. "How long have you been doing this?"

Bucky opened his mouth to answer, then looked down towards the street and saw the gang filing into the empty building. He then looked at Steve and said, "Look, I'll explain after I take care of them."

He then shoved the ski mask back on, and Steve watched in bewilderment as he then all but leapt off of the rooftop, landing on a fire escape down below and then leaping from that to the ground, where he slipped into the shop and the fight began.

Steve listened and waited, hearing the pained cries and groans of men getting beaten to a pulp, then, after awhile, seeing two girls running out as sirens wailed in the distance.

Steve was still completely confused, but by the time Bucky came scaling back up the building and told Steve to follow him to a different rooftop safely away from the crime scene, Steve was smiling despite his continued confusion.

All in all, Bucky had spent no more than eight minutes in action, and he had gotten out of it unscathed, which was actually the norm. Sometimes a punk or two would land a punch, but not this night, and the rush of adrenaline fueled him as he led Steve to a roof where they could sit and he could explain all of this properly.

Once they got there and were sitting next to each other, Steve still staring in wonder and Bucky's heart still pounding from the addictive rush of it all, he told Steve the story from the beginning. The night it had started, how Summer had supported him, and how it turned into what it currently was.

"I know it's a drop in the bucket," Bucky shrugged. "The city's corrupt and I'm not gonna stop crime from happening, but... I guess that's not really the point. I've been at it four months. I've stopped a lot of bad things from happening. Mostly rapes. There's so many..." he clenched his jaw and shook his head. "It's way worse than when we were kids. Least I think it is."

Steve nodded. "I know. It's terrible."

Bucky then looked at him and said, "What you do - what we do - I know what it's for and I know it saves lives, but I don't _see_ them, you know? _This_, I see, and I know when I've helped someone. I leave the bastard tied up or unconscious for the cops, and even if he gets out, at least I know I stopped them from hurting one person."

"Yeah," Steve said. "Yeah, I get that. I do. I'm glad this makes you feel good. If you feel... purpose, I guess, in doing this, I'm not gonna tell you not to. I just hope you're careful."

"I haven't gotten caught yet," Bucky grinned.

"You _can't_ get caught," Steve said seriously. "If you did..."

"I know. But I'm not."

Steve nodded, quiet for a moment. "I'm proud of you, though."

Bucky looked at him in mild surprise, and Steve merely smiled and added, "You've come incredibly far. And you're putting yourself at risk to help people. Which is what you've done your whole life."

"Not my _whole_ life," Bucky muttered.

"The parts you were yourself for," Steve amended. "The parts that count."

Bucky nodded, knowing arguing this with Steve was impossible. It was like arguing with a steel wall. "I didn't tell you 'cause I figured you'd worry. Summer worries enough for everybody."

"That's okay," Steve shrugged. "You said she's okay with this?"

Bucky nodded, looking off in the distance. "Yeah. It makes her nervous but she's never tried to talk me out of it."

"She's... wow," Steve marveled.

"I know," Bucky smiled. After a pause, he added, "I think I'm gonna ask her to marry me soon."

If Steve hadn't been more careful, he might have fallen off the rooftop altogether. "Really? I mean I was starting to get the feeling that that's where you guys were headed, but..."

Bucky nodded. "See, earlier... David gave me this drawing he did at school that's supposed to be of his family. He drew me in there with the word "Daddy" above my head."

Steve smiled and raised his eyebrows in a _very_ happy and pleasantly surprised expression. "Really?"

Almost getting choked up all over again, Bucky nodded and went on, "Yeah. And I just... I don't know. Seemed like the right time, so I asked his permission to marry her."

"I bet he said yes."

"About a hundred times," Bucky chuckled. "I don't know when I'm gonna do it, but I know I'm going to. I think I've wanted to for awhile now, but with the accident and everything... didn't seem like a good time. But she's a lot better now, and with David calling me that..."

"That's amazing," Steve concurred, giving Bucky's shoulder a pat. "Really. It is. Especially the David thing."

"Scares me to death," Bucky admitted, shaking his head as he stared off. "I don't know what I'm doing or how to be a dad. I barely remember my own dad."

"You just keep doing what you're doing," Steve said. "Just do what comes naturally. That's how you've gotten where you're at. It's not like you set out to be his dad. It's just... happened. I don't think this changes anything, really. Just makes it more... special, maybe. More official."

Bucky nodded, glancing at Steve and smiling at the slightly dumb look on his face. "I think _you_ might be even happier about all this than I am."

"No," Steve shrugged. "Just really happy for you. All three of you. If you're happy, I'm happy."

Bucky smiled a little, and then after the two men sat there in silence for a moment, Bucky said, "I hope she says yes."

"Oh, she'll say yes," Steve assured him. "If she doesn't, I'll eat my own shield."

Bucky gave him the side-eye and pointed out, "You _can't_ eat your shield."

"Exactly. That's how confident I am that she'll say yes."

Unable to follow logic that weird, Bucky squinted and then laughed, which in turn made Steve laugh, and suddenly, Bucky felt a lot lighter than he had when his venture into that particular night had begun. He had one less secret to keep and the support of his best friend in two very important areas of his life, and - though it still felt strange to say it - a family waiting for him at home.

Suddenly, he couldn't _wait_ to find the right moment to ask Summer to be his wife.

**A/N: ... SO. See? I said we were getting to the good stuff now :p I've actually been waiting quite impatiently to get to this phase of things, and in fact, I skipped over some other, more minor stuff I'd had planned (well, more like delayed rather skipped) to get to this chapter lol. I was so excited that I wrote it all in like a day and half, which might have been a personal record, but ANYWAY :))) Hope you guys like it, and I can just about guarantee you'll like the next one, too :p**

**Two more things: First, midnightwings96 updated _Ruin_ today with a nice big fat AWESOME chapter, so if you're a reader, check it out :D Second, I've got a oneshot that I'll be posting very soon as a bit of a companion to this week's chapter. It's not my usual sort of oneshot, but it's a glimpse into Bucky's past (well, my slightly made-up version of it lol) that I wrote mainly to contrast where he's at at this current point with this relationship as opposed to his previous one. So keep an eye out for that and please give it a read when it pops up :D **

**Thank you guys SO MUCH for reading and reviewing week after week! I love you all bunches! *giant hugs*  
**


	34. Chapter 34

**A/N: I'm sticking this short little note up here at the top today, just... because :p Thank you guys so much for your feedback and continuing support! I love you all TONS, and I am super excited for this chapter, so I'm just gonna shut up now :D and big thanks to midnightwings96 for being a HUGE help as always *hugs her into infinity* :D Let me know what you guys think! **

The next morning, Summer woke up at an utterly ungodly hour and couldn't go back to sleep. Her mind already racing with anxiety for the day's coming events, she made coffee and then decided to at least while the early hours away being productive rather than obsessively and pointlessly going over details for the benefit. Instead, she got to work editing her book.

With Bucky dead asleep and motionless in bed next to her, she tapped away on her laptop, slowly turning the story into something she could hopefully actually publish. After having bounced some ideas off of Natasha, who was quite helpful when it came to these things, she had decided to change the names of the characters and change such obviously recognizable features like Bucky's metal arm to a prosthetic leg and a badly burned left hand and arm. With those details changed, the story was safe to be read by the world, and since she had finished a full draft during her time recovering, she was fairly close now to being able to send it off to potential publishers.

She expected to have a hard time, since she would be merely one of many first-time authors trying to get their foot in the door, but the encouragement of those around her went a long way in keeping her optimistic. Bucky and Natasha were the first to read the draft, and after them, Paul had read it as well (though he had been very upfront about skimming the more _interesting_ parts, to spare himself mental anguish), and Sarah had utterly gushed over how much she also loved it. Thanks to their help, she thought she might finally get to make good on her claim of being a writer.

By the time that the morning had grown bright and Bucky started stirring out of his sleep, her doctor's appointment was only an hour and a half away and she had just been about to wake him up herself. Instead, he rolled over towards her, squinting at her with sleep-heavy eyes, asking, "What time is it?"

"Almost time to leave," she said, computer still on her lap as she smiled at him.

He looked at her, noticing how she was already ready to go, then the laptop, and he asked, "How long have you been up?"

She smiled and cringed at the same time. "Like... three hours?"

He groaned and rubbed at his eyes, slowly sitting up. "Summer..."

"I know, I know, but I was way too nervous to go back to sleep. But hey, I was productive! Used a nifty little editing tool to change all the names in my story in like ten minutes. Then read through and edited like four chapters. Only three more to go and I might actually be done editing. Maybe."

He held out his hand expectantly, and she handed him the computer, watching him scroll down the page she had been currently on and reading through it with still-heavy eyes. He yawned, then chuckled and looked at her as he said, "So your fake name is May... and you named me after the crab in the mermaid movie."

She smiled and shrugged. "I thought it sounded pretty! And it's definitely very different from your real name." She paused. "Wait. You know the Little Mermaid crab?"

He blinked slowly and muttered, "Summer, I'm pretty sure I saw every single Disney movie in existence at least five times when you were in the hospital."

She laughed. It was true - David loved Disney movies of all kinds, even the supposedly more girly ones. "Oh, okay. Well, that makes sense. How sweet of you to sit through all of that."

He rolled his eyes at her slightly teasing smile, and then after reading through a few more paragraphs, he said, "Grant and Natalie, huh?"

"Too obvious?" She asked cautiously.

He shrugged to the negative. "I don't think so. It's gonna be next to impossible for anyone to connect the dots here."

Summer nodded, having spent far too long stressing over keeping all of the characters' secret identities under wraps, especially those of the Army buddy and her character's professional dancer friend, aka Grant and Natalie. But with the precautions she had taken, plus using a pen name to boot, really, she was pretty sure that she was safe.

Assuming she could get the damn thing published to begin with.

Bucky handed her laptop back to her and smiled. "Not much longer now."

She took the computer back and settled it in front of her, taking a nervous breath as she went about saving her work. "Maybe. If not, there's always self-publishing."

"Haven't you done that before?" Bucky asked with a slight squint. "Your brother said something about... an old... something he found, I don't remember what."

She cleared her throat, trying to keep a blush off of her cheeks as she replied, "It's called a blog, and I was seventeen. It wasn't self-publishing. Or I guess it kind of was. But we won't speak of that."

"What did you write?"

She calmly began to shut down her computer. "Nothing."

Bucky grinned lazily, leaning back against the headboard. "Oh, come on. Can't be that bad."

"It can, actually."

"What's 'slash' mean? Paul kept saying that but he wouldn't tell me what it means."

Unable to stop the blush now, she muttered, "It doesn't mean anything."

"The fact that you're the color of a tomato right now makes me not believe you."

She sighed and closed her laptop, gesturing impatiently with her hands and blurting, "I just really wanted to see hot dudes making out, okay? I never saw it in real life - still really haven't, actually - so I wrote weird things with people from movies." She shrugged. "Are you happy now?"

She glared at the way that he laughed at her, fully amused by how flustered she was as he replied, "Hey, calm down. Nothing wrong with that."

"No," she agreed, "but what I wrote was _horrible_, which is why I won't speak of it. Especially not before breakfast, speaking of which - we gotta get up and go."

She pushed her computer off of her lap then and tried to make her escape, but Bucky's hand grabbed her wrist and pulled her back with a soft groan of, "Hey, not so fast."

It was hard to find the will to protest when he was hovering over top of her, pressing a soft kiss to her lips before running his down over her jaw and then to her neck. "We _really_ have to go," she managed to say, though her hand on the back of his head wasn't discouraging.

"I know," he mumbled, raising his head back and looking at her with a certain _something_ in his eye. "Today's gonna be a good day." He kissed her lips. "The doctor's gonna tell you you're pretty much all better." He kissed her cheek, and she smiled. "Then you're gonna have your party, and it's gonna be great." Having finally made his way to her ear, he kissed just under it and then said low into it, "Then you're gonna come back here to my room the _minute_ it's over."

She smiled at him, cheeks burning a little as he looked down at her with a grin. "And _then_ what?"

"Then we're gonna make up for lost time," he replied, his right-hand fingertips brushing across her cheek.

She smiled even more widely at him before saying, "Just so you know, you have done amazingly well at... you know... keeping me, uh, _happy_, while I've been recovering. Without sex. Well. You know." She gestured vaguely with her hands. "Without _actual_ sex. Without your... uh... good Lord, I feel like I'm 12."

Bucky laughed quietly, looking down at her with clear affection in his eyes as she cringed at herself. "It's okay. I understand. One of these days you'll get the word out."

She eyed him skeptically. "I can't even _write_ it, so... fat chance."

He shrugged. "Doesn't matter to me. I still love you even when you act 12."

She snorted in a way that she knew was rather unattractive, but it only made him smile more before he kissed her a few more times. They wasted a few more moments lingering in bed before they truly couldn't procrastinate anymore, but soon enough the moment came when it was time to get up and go.

She might have been nervous and stressed to the max, but she spent the rest of her morning with a big fat smile on her face that _nothing_ could wipe away. The good news that she heard from the doctor later only made her smile even more.

* * *

"So I'm... good? I'm better?" Summer asked with hopeful eyes.

Stepping away from the X-Rays lit up on the wall, Summer's doctor tucked his hands inside the pockets of his lab coat and replied with a friendly smile, "In very simple terms, yes."

She broke out into a big smile and looked at Bucky, sitting next to her as he had during all of her previous appointments. He smiled back, and she turned back to the doctor and said, "Does that mean I can stop coming here every month?"

"What, you don't like our get-togethers?" the older man joked as he pulled up a stool and sat next to her.

"Honestly? Eh," she shrugged, still smiling.

"I'm hurt. But no, in all seriousness, your scans show us exactly what we want to see at this stage of healing. You can get back to all of your normal activities that you haven't yet - work, exercise, dancing, what have you. Of course, you need to still be careful and you don't want to _overdo_ it, but... you've done a great job keeping up with physio. This is the proof."

Summer beamed and squeaked a little in joy. "Yay! I do have one question, though, because I've got this big party later that I'm coordinating, and I really miss high heels, but..."

"Yeah," the doctor squinted, "I'd hold off on those for now. Only because it's not worth the added risk of tripping and falling and re-injuring your leg."

Summer's smile shrunk a little but she nodded, knowing he was right. "Okay. I guess I can save the heels for later, then. Oh, and you said dancing is okay now?"

He nodded. "Yeah, like I said, all your normal activities should be fine now. Don't expect everything to be the same or as easy as it used to be, though. That leg _won't_ ever be the same, but don't let that hold you back."

She nodded, fully understanding. "I won't. I'm excited."

The doctor smiled and got up, patting her shoulder. "I'm glad to hear it. And I'm glad I won't be seeing your face for awhile, no offense. I never want to see any of my favorite patients. Terrible side effect of the job."

She chuckled. "Oh, I get it."

He smiled back and then said, "Well, good luck with your party, and good luck with the leg. I'll see you in about... oh... let's say six months. Then once a year after that."

"Much better than once a month," she grinned. "Let's do it."

The doctor then bade farewell, leaving Summer and Bucky alone in the very familiar exam room. She looked his way to find him grinning at her, and she smiled back and asked, "What?"

He shrugged. "Nothing. I was just right."

She rolled her eyes, smile growing. "Yeah, yeah. You and your undying faith in me."

His expression became a bit more serious as he replied, "Just returning the favor."

Her expression softened as well, and she reached her hand to his as she looked down and said, "Well... maybe now we can finally have those Friday night dates we talked about before."

Then she looked up, and there was no mistaking the pain that crossed his face when she said those words. She knew why. Those Friday nights had been one of the last things they had talked about before that car had come speeding out of nowhere and crushed her leg, setting her on a long but ultimately successful path to recovery.

"Hey," she said softly, sliding off of the exam seat and walking unassisted to him to prove just how far she had come. "I'm okay. I'm better."

He nodded, looking up at her when she sat down across his lap and smiled at him. He only just returned the smile, looking down at her leg and placing his hologram-disguised left hand on it as he said, "I just... I'll never forget seeing that happen."

She frowned, covering his hand with hers. She couldn't remember much of it herself. She remembered that split second of terror when she saw the car coming, and seeing that same terror on Bucky's face right before everything was something she would _never_ forget. But Bucky had it worse in so many ways.

She knew he dreamed of it sometimes. She could tell because he'd jerk awake behind her, jarring her from sleep as well, and then she'd turn over to find him breathing heavily and looking around in the darkness with temporarily confused eyes. She'd tell him that she was there and everything was okay, and then after his eyes refocused and he knew that it had just been another dream, he'd hold her a little more tightly than usual and they would both quietly despise the torture that those dreams were.

He had endured _so much_ in his life, and had _so much_ to have nightmares about, more than what any one person should ever have to handle. She _hated_ that she had inadvertently added something to that list, just as she hated seeing the pain from that day resurface as it was now.

"I'm okay," she assured him quietly, giving his hand a squeeze. "We're okay. We got through it."

He nodded, looking up at her and smiling softly after a moment. "_You_ got through it."

"You helped me," she replied. "A lot. And now we get to put all of this behind us."

He nodded, and she decided to lean down and kiss away the last traces of sadness on his face. Today was a happy day, after all, and though she knew how easy it was for him to slip into the past and relive the memories he hated the most, she also knew that she could pull him out of it quicker than anyone.

It seemed to work, and his eyes were a little lighter when she pulled away. She smiled and said, "So, so far your predictions about today have been spot on. We'll see if you're right about the party too."

"I already know I am," he grinned.

"Well... we'll see. Like really soon. Wanna take me home so I can turn back into a giant ball of stress?"

He chuckled, nodded, and then kissed her again, and soon after, they walked out of the doctor's office together. One thing was for sure - she would never take _walking_ for granted ever again.

* * *

Once they got back to the tower, Bucky didn't see Summer for hours. She headed up to the top of the tower to oversee how the final preparations were going for the benefit, leaving Bucky and David to figure out what to do to pass the time. Luckily, this wasn't nearly as hard as it used to be.

After a few hours spent snacking, playing a card game that David had recently become obsessed with, and then playing piano together, which left Bucky as impressed with the kid's talents like always, David ended up heading to his room to watch a movie. That usually meant a nap was in order, so Bucky left him in there and then wandered to the kitchen to grab a drink, contemplating taking a nap of his own. He _had_ been out even later than usual the night before, after all, having confided in Steve after beating up the gang he'd targeted and then spent the rest of the night talking about his plans for himself and Summer.

He had a bottle of water in hand and these _very_ serious thoughts on his mind when he closed the refrigerator, immediately pausing when he looked up and found Natasha on the other side of the now-closed door.

She grinned at him, then said knowingly, "I hear you've got something big in the works."

He looked at her for a moment, stepping aside so she could grab something from the fridge herself. "Steve didn't keep that one quiet for long."

"He only told me," she assured him. "At least I think."

"If you say a word to her..." Bucky said warningly, knowing how close the two girls had become over the months.

Natasha looked at him incredulously and closed the fridge. "Are you kidding me? She wouldn't get it out of me under torture. I wouldn't ruin her moment like that."

Bucky nodded, suddenly feeling stupid for having been worried in the first place. But, in his defense, this _was_ very new territory.

"So, have you figured out how you're gonna do it yet?" Nat asked conversationally, leaning against the counter opposite Bucky.

He shook his head, absently turning the bottle in his hands over. "No. Not really."

"Do you want to do the big planned thing, or something more low-key?"

Bucky looked at her a little helplessly and asked, "Which do you think she'd like more?"

"Honestly," Natasha replied, "as long as it ends with you asking her to marry you, I don't think she'll particularly _care_ what you do. You know she's not expecting it at all, right?"

"Yeah, I don't think she is," Bucky agreed.

"She's afraid to say the M-word, even with me," Nat chuckled. "I think actually that if you did something over-the-top, it might be a little _too_ much."

He couldn't help but agree. "Yeah. Not really my style anyway."

Natasha chuckled. Their _styles_ were similar, now that he thought of it. Subtle, controlled, precise, all things that people of their backgrounds and skills needed to do their jobs effectively. But how did one apply that to a marriage proposal?

"This is going to sound cliche," Natasha said, "and actually, it sounds like one of those overly dramatic things Steve would say, but... maybe you should just follow your heart. Do what feels right. You're going to make her the happiest girl in the city no matter _how_ you ask. You really can't screw this one up, unless you chicken out."

"I don't chicken out," he half-smirked.

"I know," she smiled back. "Just don't wait around too long. You're not getting any younger, you know."

He raised an eyebrow at her as she walked around him, heading out of the kitchen. "Neither are you," he quipped.

She shot him a look over her shoulder, and his grin widened as she walked away.

She was right. He always told Summer to think less and simply _do_ more. Maybe he needed to take his own advice for once.

But first, he still needed that nap.

* * *

Later, early in the evening, Summer found herself running from her bedroom to her bathroom in her last-minute haste to get ready, though it was more cautiously quick walking than actual running. Guests were set to arrive in an hour, and she needed to get back to the penthouse floor half an hour before that.

She had her dress on, which was a pretty floor-length dark blue gown that she could shockingly actually afford now with her new salary. Under it she wore comfortable, safe flats rather than her once-usual high heels, and when she heard her door open and footsteps pad in, she was fighting with her curling iron and mostly losing.

"Hey, Summer," Natasha's voice came wafting into the bathroom, "give me your opinion."

Summer turned in the middle of trying to curl one of the front pieces of her hair to find the other woman standing there causally in her dark lingerie, holding up two dresses that she was actually asking _Summer's_ help with choosing from.

"Red or black?" Natasha asked as Summer stared somewhat dumbly.

"I... uh... you're actually asking _my_ opinion?"

"Yeah." Natasha's eyes flickered to Summer's hair and then narrowed. "You're about to burn your hair."

Summer squeaked and then quickly dropped the curling iron on the counter. "Crap crap crap. I'm so behind, my hair is a mess, and..."

"Okay," Natasha said, hanging up her two dresses on the door for the time being and walking to Summer, taking the curling iron in hand herself. "Stop. Breathe. You're fine. I'll have your hair done in ten minutes. Do your makeup while I'm at it."

"Okay," Summer nodded, taking a slightly calming breathe. "All right. I'm good. Just been panicking for like an hour now."

"Has anything gone wrong?" Nat asked, quickly getting to work on Summer's nearly waist-length hair.

"No," she admitted quietly. "I just feel kinda out of my element and like I am incredibly unqualified for this, which is nothing new, but..."

Natasha sighed, but with a smile on her face as she replied, "I'm not going to tell you that it'll be fine, because we've all been telling you that for weeks now. All I'm going to say is that you should just remember that it's a party and try to actually enjoy yourself. And if something goes wrong, just go with it. You're good at improvising."

"I am?" Summer squinted, pausing in applying eyeliner.

Natasha gave her a weary look. "_Yes_."

"I'm getting annoying, aren't I?" Summer cringed.

Natasha grinned. "Little bit."

Sighing and shutting up, Summer focused on getting the rest of her makeup on, and before she knew it, Natasha had curled her hair with almost lightning speed and then easily threw it up into a simple but elegant twist on the back of her head, with strategic pieces falling free and framing her face. She was an absolute _lifesaver_.

"Thank you," she said sincerely, turning and noticing that Nat still wasn't dressed herself yet. She glanced at the dresses on her door and then quickly decided, "The red one. Definitely the red one."

"I was leaning towards that one too," Natasha nodded. "I asked Steve and he was too busy staring at me to get a coherent answer out."

"Well," Summer shrugged, gesturing to Nat's body, "can't really blame the guy. I'm just still in shock because you asked me for an opinion. Me, who was burning my hair when you walked in."

Natasha rolled her eyes and grabbed the red dress, sliding it off the hanger as she replied, "_You_ might be a mess sometimes, but the people you take care of aren't. Same goes for your work. Have you noticed that?"

Summer blinked and realized that she was right. She herself hadn't had a haircut in longer than she could even count, but Bucky and David were regularly among the most well-groomed dudes in the tower. "Oh. Yeah. I guess you're right."

"I'm always right," Natasha smirked, sliding the dress on. "Now stop doubting yourself and go to work."

Summer nodded, taking a breath and squaring her shoulders. "Right. Okay. I can do this. Hell yeah."

"Exactly," Natasha smiled. "And besides, if you freak out again, there will be plenty of alcohol at the party to distract you."

"Drinking on the job. Yes. A major perk," Summer smiled. "Okay. I'm gonna go now. You're gonna come right at eight, right?"

"Steve and I will be there, just like we talked about," Nat assured her.

"Good, good. Thank you again," Summer said, giving the shorter woman a slightly impromptu hug and not caring for personal space issues at the moment, too busy mentally scrolling through her list of things she still needed to do as she finished up getting ready and then headed out. She made one quick detour before she headed to the elevator.

Stopping outside Bucky's door, she knocked on it lightly and then pushed it open. She smiled at the sight of Bucky and David lounging lazily on the bed, David's tablet in Bucky's left hand as his right jabbed at it, probably trying to beat a level for him on one of his games. Then they both looked up and Bucky lowered the tablet, and Summer smiled as she said, "I'm leaving now. Just wanted to let you both know."

David eyed her hair and dress and then frowned, knowing that he wouldn't see her before he fell asleep, and the little pout on his face made her momentarily feel like crap before Bucky jumped up to his feet and started quickly heading her way.

He opened the door fully, then looked her up and down before grinning and meeting her eyes. "Good luck tonight."

He then drew her into his arms for a hug, and she sighed and embraced him back as she said, "Thanks. I can't wait until it's over."

"Me either," Bucky said, pulling away and still wearing that maddening grin on his face. "I like this dress."

"Me too," she smiled, glancing down at it.

"I'll like it better on the floor, though," he said, whispering for the sake of nearby little ears.

"Please don't put things in my head," she smiled, squirming a little. "I can barely focus as it is."

"Fine, fine," he relented, giving her a short little kiss. He tucked a curled piece of hair behind her ear and then leaned in and whispered against it, "Just remember... the minute it's over, come to my room. Don't make me wait."

She shivered a little, not only from his words but from the tone of his voice. She nodded as he drew away, and after a moment's pause, there was suddenly a little boy standing next to them, initiating a spur of the moment group hug by holding both of their legs and smiling brightly up at them.

"Oh, hey!" Summer laughed, she and Bucky both leaning down to hug him back. "I'm sorry I'll be gone all night, but we'll have all day together tomorrow, okay? Be good for Bucky."

David then narrowed his eyes at her and signed something with a distinct scolding attitude behind it. It took her a moment to realize that he was using his made-up sign for Bucky, then following it up with the word _Daddy_.

"Oh." She hadn't realized that David would be so adamant in using only that word now, but apparently he was, and it made her glance up at Bucky and smile. Then she nodded to David and said, "Okay. Be good for Daddy."

David smiled again, squeezed them both, then headed back off to bed, leaving them standing there and smiling at each other almost dumbly. She felt tears start trying to swell behind her eyes, and she blinked them away before they could ruin her makeup. "I'm so not used to that."

"I'm not either," Bucky replied.

"It's still okay, right?" she asked, just to make sure.

He smiled and rolled his eyes at her silly question. "_Yes_, Summer. I promise you, it's okay."

She couldn't doubt his words. Smiling, she replied, "Okay. I've gotta go now or I'm gonna be late."

He nodded, kissing her quickly one more time. "Go. I'll be waiting."

"Okay," she smiled, extricating herself from his arms and tearing her nervous eyes away from him to turn and finally head towards the elevator and meet her doom.

Luckily, though, when it was all said and done, it was as the others had predicted, and there was no doom to be found.

* * *

About one hour later, Summer was standing in the middle of the result of her hard work, and she had to admit... she hadn't done half bad.

The top floor of the tower was _packed. _Everybody had showed up and then some, and the alcohol was flowing and the band she'd hired were playing pleasant, jazzy covers of current hits, setting a tone that was every bit as elegant as she had envisioned in her head. "Fun and elegant" had been her idea, and she was starting to think that she'd hit a home run with this one.

"Not bad, kid," a voice said from behind her, and she turned around to find Tony dressed at his best and grinning at her.

"Thank you," she breathed, fiddling with the clutch in her hands and looking around at the crowd. "So far so good, right?"

"I'd say so," he agreed. "Everybody's halfway to drunk already, and that's good. Drunk rich people throw around more money than sober ones. Just ask Pepper, she knows."

She laughed. "Well, at least it's for a good cause. And hopefully you get some good press out of it."

Tony shrugged and crunched his face some. "Yeah, not holding my breath on that. But that's okay. So, when's the auction start?"

"Um..." She opened up her clutch and checked her phone, then replied, "About half an hour-ish."

"Cool. What do you think Steve would do if _I_ bought the date with him? Think he'd mind? I'd totally buy him flowers and a nice dinner."

She laughed again. "Well, he _did_ kiss you awhile ago, so..."

"Very true. Maybe he wants an encore."

"Who wants an encore?" asked the man himself, strolling up to Summer and Tony in a black suit that made her do a brief double take.

"Nobody," Tony smiled. "Anyway, I gotta go find Pepper. Good job so far."

He gave Summer's shoulder a pat, and she smiled and thanked him again before turning to Steve and smiling wider. "Thank you for coming, since you're one of my most prolific guests."

"No problem," he smiled back, hands in his pockets. He looked around and said, "Everything looks great. Looks like you're really on top of things."

"Well, there was almost an incident with the champagne because I specified extra-dry but they started serving the other kind, but luckily I caught it in time."

Steve smiled in amusement. "Yeah. Sounds like a real disaster."

She smiled back and shrugged. "Well. The night is young. So, you ready to auction yourself off to the highest bidder?"

Steve looked around and took a deep breath. "I hope so. If someone scary gets me, just remember, I'm suffering for your sake."

"Oh, I owe you big time," she smiled. "I'll like... make you a giant cake of your choice or something. I don't know. But I'll figure it out."

"It's okay," he assured her, still smiling. In fact, he was smiling at her a _lot_, more than usual, and at first she had thought that she was imagining it, but now she was starting to wonder.

He stood there, still beaming at her, and she looked around awkwardly for a moment before looking at him in mild confusion. "Is everything... okay, or..."

"Oh yeah," he chirped, shaking himself a little and shrinking the stupid smile some. "Yeah, everything's great. Actually, I'm gonna go see where Nat is, but I'll catch up with you before the auction, okay?"

"Okay," she nodded, smiling and watching him beam at her again before turning and disappearing into the crowd.

... What was the deal with him?

Before she could lend the question too much thought, there was chattering in her ear and something about one of the socialites in attendance hassling the wait staff. She started heading towards where the incident was occurring, only to be stopped by yet another familiar voice, though this one was one that she hadn't heard in a long time.

"... Oh. My. _God_."

She looked to her left when she heard those words and then stopped in her tracks, a smile coming to her face as she looked at two extremely well-dressed men coming her way. "_Esteban_?"

"Ah, it _is_ you!" he half-exclaimed, dragging the guy with him by the hand as he grinned at Summer. "I never forget a face!"

"Yeah, I can tell," she laughed. "I didn't know you were coming here tonight. Which might be really bad because I read over the guest list like fifty times today..."

"Ah, well, I am here as my boyfriend's plus one, so that might be why you didn't see my name," he gestured to the taller, smiling man behind him.

Summer looked up to the other man and raised her eyebrows, a smile growing on her lips. "Oh. Wow. _Hi_."

"This is Nicolo," Esteban said as the other man reached forward to shake Summer's hand. "And Nicolo, this is Summer," he dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, "who dates the Winter Soldier and lives with the Avengers here."

"Oh my," Nicolo smiled. "I have heard about you. It is nice to meet you."

Summer smiled goofily the minute he spoke. He had a clear Italian accent and was _very_ pretty with his sparkly blue eyes and combed back, loose brown curls. "Yeah, you too. You're pretty."

Nicolo laughed and Esteban nodded enthusiastically. "I know! He's a photographer, and he's pretty _and_ rich - what more could I ask for?"

"No, no," Nicolo waved his hand, closing his eyes briefly. "We have already decided on this. _I_ am the lucky one."

Esteban rolled his eyes, and Summer smiled, "Actually, I think you're both lucky. How long have you been together?"

"Six months," Esteban replied. "We met when I caught him trying to buy an _awful_ orange tie."

"It wasn't _that_ bad," Nicolo sighed.

"It was _disgusting_," Esteban said, widening his eyes and cringing for effect, and Summer laughed. "But then, after I talked him into buying this beautiful maroon silk tie, he asked me out for coffee, and then we just..."

"Hated each other at first," Nicolo shrugged.

"It is true," Esteban nodded. "He insulted my country's football team."

"And when I showed him some of my best photos, he said they were 'too photoshopped'," Nicolo grumbled, like that one was still of significant personal annoyance.

She looked back and forth between them, totally able to picture all of this, and then she asked with full interest, "_Then_ what happened?"

"Well, we ran into each other about a week later at a bar," Nicolo said.

"He was wearing the maroon tie," Esteban added, snatching a glass of champagne as it went by. He took a sip, and then casually added, "Then later that night I used it to tie him to my bed."

Summer's eyes popped out comedically, and Nicolo flushed and laughed slightly nervously as Esteban merely smirked and enjoyed their reactions.

"Whoa!" she laughed. "Now that's a story!"

"And he tells it to everyone," Nicolo said, scratching at the back of his neck. "And I do mean _everyone_."

Summer laughed, again, taking a moment to marvel at the sheer beauty of the men standing before her. She was a sucker for a good story, and when the story happened to revolve around two men who looked like they could _live_ on the red carpet, well, that was just unfairly awesome.

Then she remembered that she was having a conversation and needed to actually say something. "Wow! Well, congrats, guys! And thanks for coming, too. I didn't think I'd see hardly anybody I actually know here and that made me kinda nervous, but..." She then gestured vaguely and explained, "I got a promotion, so now I'm in charge of planning these parties -"

"You _are_?" Esteban gasped.

"Yeah! And it's fun, but I've also been really nervous, and -"

"Everything looks fabulous!" Esteban assured her, waving his hand. "I am impressed! If you ever need help or an extra opinion, you know, I am definitely willing to lend a hand."

She smiled brightly. "Really? That would be great! I will probably definitely take you up on that. I _love_ your taste, which you know."

He grinned. "You would be crazy not to! But everything looks great. And so do you! How have you been?"

"Well, I've had a rough summer because I got hit by a car like six months ago, but -"

Both men gasped. "_What_?" Esteban asked, hand on his chest.

She smiled at his instant concern and quickly went through the story, earning a few more gasps and expressions of horror along the way, but she was used to that.

"So yeah... but I'm better now, as you can see," she smiled. "Even left my pimp cane behind for the night."

"Oh, you poor thing," Esteban frowned, genuinely distressed by what she had told him. "But look at you! You look great, and I bet you are making the money now with this new job."

She grinned. "That I am, actually. It's kind of weird. I'm not used to this. Like, my son is autistic, and I got him into this really expensive school, and I still can't believe I can actually afford it. Or this dress."

"The dress is gorgeous," he grinned. "But my niece is autistic too. That's one of the reasons why I'm here. What school does your son go to? Is it down on Fifth and -"

"Luther?" Summer guessed, and Esteban nodded with a smile. "Are you telling me they both go to the same school?"

"I think so! Her name is Maria, and she's six."

Summer's eyes widened. She had heard of a Maria before, when David would tell her about his days at school. "_Maria_ Maria? He told me about her - well, signed to me - because she's like him and doesn't talk."

"Wait - is your kid David?"

Summer's eyes got even bigger, and as the party continued flowing easily all around them, she and Esteban continued talking and marveling over what a very small world it was. She chatted with him for as long as she could before work drew her back, and after they parted ways for the time being, she found herself feeling overall quite lighter and a lot less stressed out than she had at the start of the evening.

She could do this. She could _so_ do this.

With the exception of a few very minute hiccups, the night went off without a hitch, and one of the highlights for Summer was the much-awaited date-auctioning portion of the event. Steve was the very last one up for grabs, with a slew of famous and slightly less famous names going before him. Tony's theory ended up proving pretty accurate, with the sloshed attendees throwing their money around at a rate that surprised her, but it meant very good things for the foundation that the party was all about.

Pepper herself did the honors and played auctioneer, slightly drunk herself and quite enjoying it, and Summer, who was stone-cold sober, stood next to her and helped whenever it was needed. Then, when it was Steve's turn, he walked up on the little stage that the women were standing on, smiled sheepishly and humorously at the cheering and whistling crowd. He looked at Summer and she grinned, clapping along with the crowd, and he rolled his eyes and stood there with his hands going to his pockets.

In the crowd, she could see Esteban and Nicolo, both of them suddenly looking excited, and she stifled a laugh when she suddenly had an idea of what was about to happen.

"Okay," Pepper said, microphone in one hand and a flute of champagne in the other, "I know this is the date that a lot of you have been waiting for, so I'll get right to it. We all know who he is, and I don't know anyone who would turn _down_ a chance to date Captain America..." The guests cheered again, and Pepper shot Steve a smile before saying, "So how about we start the bid at... let's say... $10,000?"

That was mere pocket change to most of these people - even Summer knew that. Still, she couldn't help but break out laughing when Tony, lounging at one of the tables with an entire champagne bottle to himself, was the first to shoot up his hand.

Pepper sighed. "Serious bids only, Tony."

"I _am_ serious!" He called from the table, aggressively throwing his hand up again.

Steve rubbed at his eyes and sighed. Pepper shook her head, grinning. "Well. Okay, fine. Who's got 15?"

She got her answer quick, and from there, the bids piled up quickly. Tony bid everybody up on purpose, but towards the end, a rather aggressively bidding couple put an end to Tony's antics, and Summer watched with poorly concealed glee as Steve was auctioned off to none other than Esteban and Nicolo - the latter of whom must have indeed been quite rich, having ultimately dropped $55k on the date.

"Sold to the two very pretty men on the left," Pepper announced happily, glancing at Steve, who was blushing a little and laughing at his fate.

Summer then watched with a huge smile on her face as the couple made their way up to "claim their prize", so to speak, and she and Esteban shared an excited look just before he subtly pointed at Nicolo with his thumb and mouthed, "_Huge_ _crush_."

"_Oh_," she mouthed back, grinning as Steve stepped down to them and shook hands with both of them. Nicolo was so visibly excited and trying to hold it together that it was probably the equivalent of how Esteban would have acted had they won a date with Thor. He was nearly bouncing on his heels, and coupled with Steve's slight embarrassment, it was all utterly adorable, and the best part was all the cameras snapping lots of pictures of the three of them.

Then, in the midst of happily watching her friends, Pepper shoved the mic into Summer's hand and completely took her by surprise.

"What?" Summer asked dumbly, looking at the microphone like it might blow up any minute.

"Take a minute to thank all the guests for coming," Pepper smiled. "All of this was because of you, Summer. They should know that."

"But I... how do I _talk_ to that many people?" Summer asked, panic suddenly clawing its way up her throat.

"Trust me," Pepper said quietly, "I used to be the same way. You're only nervous because you've never done it before, but once you do, you'll see that it's no big deal. And you don't have to make a speech. Just introduce yourself and thank them. That's all."

Though she would rather crawl under a table and hide than do this and she kind of hated Pepper at the moment, she closed her hand over the microphone and cleared her throat, nodding and trading places with Pepper. She looked out at all of the guests, noticed Steve and Natasha talking with Esteban and Nicolo not too far away, and she gulped down her sudden paralyzing fear of public speaking.

"... Hi."

The loudness of her voice over the speakers made her cringe, but she hid it, readjusted her hold on the mic and then added, "I'm... Summer... McAdams. And I'm the event planner for this branch of Stark Industries. I just got the job recently, actually, and I was... super nervous about tonight. I'm also super nervous about talking right now, as you can all probably tell. Sorry about that. Also sorry if I throw up, because I think I might."

Everybody laughed, and she smiled, feeling slightly better now that they weren't all just staring at her. She glanced back towards Steve and Natasha, and the subtly encouraging smile on Nat's face worked wonders for getting her through the rest of her little speech.

"Anyway... I put this together because my son is autistic, and I just really feel strongly about..." She paused, trying to find the right words. "Helping kids with autism and not making them feel like they're disabled or less than everybody else. Money can't fix everything but it _does_ help. I know, because money keeps the school that my son goes to open, and he loves it there. He's nonverbal and he's been labeled 'disabled' since he was two, but it's pretty hard to look at him and use that word when he's so smart that he taught himself to play piano on an iPad."

She felt like she was rambling and should probably shut up, but then she heard clapping, and she looked up to find the guests fully listening to her, most of them smiling and others clapping softly at the mention of her son. She blinked and smiled, her initial anxiety taking a massive blow.

"Yeah, he's... he's pretty great. I didn't know what autism was when he was diagnosed, because I was 20 and basically still a kid myself, so I thought that it was something horrible. And it is, if you don't understand it or if you're afraid of it, but the truth is..." She trailed off, then shook her head and added, "It's _challenging_. It _can_ be really hard. I know other parents have had a lot harder of a time than me. But it's not the end of the world. And if I could snap my fingers and make my kid wake up totally normal tomorrow, I don't think I would. I'd change how the world sees him instead and make them see how he's perfect just the way he is."

Then everybody _really_ clapped, and Summer couldn't believe it. There was even one or two people recording with their cell phones, and she had no idea why in the world they'd bother, but she wasn't going to object, that was for sure.

"Anyway," she smiled, "thank you all for coming - every single one of you - and thank you for your donations. Every little bit helps." She then paused, trying to figure out how to end it, then decided on shrugging and saying, "... I guess it's time to dance now?"

To her undying relief, everybody seemed to like her, and they laughed quietly at her clueless wrap-up as she blushed with a mixture of embarrassment and relief and handed the microphone back to Pepper.

"I said you _didn't_ have to make a speech," Pepper chuckled, giving her a one-armed hug.

"... Oops?" Summer smiled, finally allowing herself to relax for the first time that night.

Everything continued to go beautifully for the rest of the night. She did, however, save her own dance for after the party, knowing that someone was waiting for her to get back so that they could share their first dance together in months.

She couldn't _wait_.

* * *

Summer stepped off the elevator on her floor much later that night, well after midnight, her feet aching and legs more sore than they would have been had she not recently recovered from a major injury. Though she was tired, she was also nearly trembling with anticipation as she made a beeline for Bucky's room, just as she had promised him she would as soon as she got back.

She had downed two glasses of champagne in the last hour, in celebration of her first major event being a success, making her blood feel extra warm in her veins as she got to Bucky's door and then paused before opening it. She could hear the soft sounds of the piano playing on the other side, and she smiled to herself before opening it and slowly stepping inside.

Bucky looked up, but his fingers' movements didn't halt on the keys as she walked in. He grinned at her, and she smiled back and closed the door behind her. She recognized the song that he was playing as she headed towards the bed, sitting down on the edge of it and taking off her shoes without her taking her eyes off of him. It was a song they had danced to before, either in this room or the living room, and this was the first time he had ever knowingly played something for her before.

A few moments passed where she watched his hands move and make it all look effortless, but she knew it really wasn't. Having two entirely different kinds of hands _had_ to make playing more challenging, and he had said as much before, but she couldn't tell by watching or by listening. The best part, though, was watching his face and seeing the peace and calm upon it as he played through the song.

After he played the last few notes, he drew his hands away from the keys and met her gaze again, a small smile touching his lips as he quickly stood up. "So, how did it go?"

"Just like you said it would," she replied, watching him walk her way. "It was actually awesome."

He smiled, and when he reached her, he leaned down and kissed her softly before murmuring, "Congratulations. I told you you had nothing to worry about."

She smiled back and nodded. "Yep you did. Once again... you're always right."

"Don't forget it," he grinned before drawing back, then heading towards the other side of the room.

She frowned a little at his departure, but then she looked around and realized that everything was rearranged. The room was more open than it normally was, and when she looked back to him to find him setting up the record player, she realized what he was doing.

As the first strains of the song he had chosen echoed softly through the room, he turned around and walked the short distance back to her, reaching out to her as he smiled. "Dance with me?"

Placing her hand into his, she nodded and bit her lip, letting him pull her up to her feet and then gently lead her towards the most open part of the room. They were a bit mismatched, with her in her gown and him in jeans and a black t-shirt, but she didn't care. The only thing currently on her mind was her hope that after all she had been through, she still _could_ dance.

"We'll go slow," told her when they came to a stop. He drew her close, his right hand holding her left and his metal hand going to her lower back. "And if anything hurts..."

"I'll tell you right away," she nodded quickly, smiling a bit nervously.

He tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "Okay. Ready?"

She nodded, as ready as she would ever be. He then pulled her closer, and in another breath, they were dancing for the first time since the accident.

It felt strange at first, like if one quit driving for six months just after learning how, then jumped behind the wheel only to find themselves nearly back to square one. But he moved with her incredibly slowly and carefully, giving her time to remember the steps, and eventually, it started to feel a little more familiar.

The first time he carefully and slowly spun her out, she followed just fine, but her leg was much more stiff than she had remembered it being before the accident. She made it work, however, and when he pulled her back in against his chest, she couldn't help the smile that she flashed him. He smiled back, and after that, it was like falling into an old and sorely missed routine.

It wasn't perfect, and she couldn't move quite like she used to - yet, anyway - but she was still _dancing_. There had been days where she had feared she'd never do this again, and that something they had grown to love doing together had been taken from them. But she had fought and he had never lost faith in her, and now here they were, dancing around his room and grinning like blessedly happy idiots.

The final time that he spun her, drew her back, and then dipped her, he didn't drop her very far in order to keep her legs from straining. When he pulled her back up, they smiled at each other and then fell still for a moment, long enough for her to say quietly, "I can't believe we're dancing again."

"I can," he said, his tone quietly reverent as his eyes dropped down to her lips and then back up to her eyes. "You're stronger than you think you are."

He started swaying her slowly again, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, tilting her head to the side as she said, "Well, I _did_ do some public speaking tonight, so... I'm starting to think that you're right."

"Wish I could have been there," he said a bit wistfully. It had just been too public of an event, and far too many cameras around to have risked it.

"You're here now," she smiled. "And we're dancing. I wouldn't change a thing."

He smiled back and then kissed her softly, and as she kissed him back, the song playing lowly in the background drew to a close. They stopped swaying, and in the course of a moment, the kiss turned from soft and slow into something deeper and longer.

His arms wrapped around her and pulled her as close as she could get to him, and her hands slid to his hair as the moment dragged on, setting her nerves alight as the tone of the moment slowly became more intense.

He broke away first, his eyes meeting hers and holding her gaze as one of his hands went to her hair and carefully took it down. After her hair fell free in loosely curled waves, he buried his hand in it and kissed her again, harder this time, and her stomach erupted in pleasant flutters when he turned her around and started walking her backwards.

Her back hit the wall, and she grinned against his lips as she felt his body press into hers in a way that she hadn't for far too long. Everything they had done since the accident had been so careful, almost all of it done sitting or lying down for safety's sake, and now at last, she had the freedom and the ability to do _whatever_ she wanted, _however_ she wanted.

... Where to even start?

The next time Bucky drew away, it was to slide his hand to her back and find the zipper of her dress. He pressed hot kisses to her neck and quickly slid the zipper down, and she bit her lip and felt her cheeks heat up as he pulled at the dress until it was a pool around her feet.

She opened her eyes and watched him stop what he was doing and let his eyes drop heavily over every inch of her body, which was unexpectedly bare following her dress hitting the floor. It wasn't her usual sort of move, _but_... she had wanted to draw the sort of reaction from him that she was getting right in that moment.

"You..." He licked his lips, utterly surprised by what he was seeing, and he seemed torn in terms of what to do - drop to his knees before her, pick her up and push her harder against the wall, or just stand there and keep gaping at her in admiration. "You were like this all night..."

She nodded, her hands going to his face to lift it back to hers as she grinned shyly. "Yeah. Figured I'd... uh... come prepared?"

He grinned back and then kissed her madly, though not before murmuring breathlessly, "_God_, you're so perfect."

She giggled and then, right when his hands moved to the back of her thighs to undoubtedly pick her up, she turned the tables and switched their positions, pushing him against the wall, immediately yanking at his shirt to pull it up over his head.

Once it was off and on top of her dress on the floor, they were kissing again, and she broke away only to pant as she started undoing his belt, "You know how last night you were telling me all the things we used to do before my accident that you miss?"

He nodded, making it hard for her to concentrate on her task when his hands were _everywhere_ and his lips could hardly stay away from hers for more than a second at a time.

"I've missed some things, too," she said, finally getting his pants undone and pushing them down, then pausing exactly the same way that he had when he had gotten her dress off. He had apparently had the same idea about unnecessary clothing barriers as she had.

Dragging her eyes up from where they had been glued to, she met his gaze and saw the grin on his face as he shrugged, "Coming prepared, right?"

He reached for her again, but she pushed him to the wall by his shoulders and shook her head. "Not yet, Bucky. I've been waiting a _really_ long time to be able to do this."

"Do what?"

She merely kissed him one more time before slowly, almost torturously, sinking down to her knees in front of him, kissing teasingly down his body the whole way there. She looked up at him as her knees made contact with the carpeted floor, both of his hands in her hair as he stared down at her in anticipation. Her bad knee didn't feel _great_ like this, but she could take it, and it was worth the mild discomfort to have this part of her life back. She _had_ always liked this, after all, and Bucky had a way of making her feel like the most powerful woman in the world when she was on her knees.

"I can... I can sit if you want me to," he said, uncharacteristically stammering a bit, holding his breath as she teased her hands down his hips.

She looked up and shook her head, biting her lip again and unable to hide her grin as she said, "No, just..."

"What?" he asked a little desperately. "Tell me."

She had basically made a public speech tonight, right? If she could do that, surely she could say something back to him that wasn't all blushes and silly words and chickening out at the end.

Inches from where she needed to be, she released her lip from between her teeth and blurted out, "Watch me. The whole time. Don't... uh... don't close your eyes."

She cringed immediately, feeling like an idiot and almost losing her nerve as her face started burning, but that embarrassment faded away the minute she dared to peek up at him. His eyes were even darker now, and she felt her heart flutter when a grin slowly spread across his lips.

"What happens if I do close them?"

She paused, unsure of how to answer. She'd only had the courage to say the one thing, and now she had to get her nerve up all over again.

"I'll... stop?"

His grin widened and he dropped his head against the wall, never taking his eyes off of her. "You have no idea what you do to me, Summer."

She grinned back, nerves lifting thanks to those words, and then she closed her eyes and started kissing a trail that ended with both of them moaning, her much more muffled than he, and his hand in her hair tightening and causing the kind of pain that felt _amazing_.

Everything was finally, _finally_ back to the way it was supposed to be. What better way to celebrate?

* * *

He _tried_ to follow her instructions, he truly did, but she was simply too good at what she was doing. Bucky's eyes closed so many times over the next few moments that it was almost embarrassing, but lucky for him, Summer didn't _want_ to punish him by stopping. He got the feeling that she'd be punishing herself as much as she would be him.

He was loud and he didn't care, getting caught up and relishing every last bit of it all, how it felt, how she looked down on her knees, how her hair felt tangled and tight between his fingers, and all too soon, it was over. Everything went white for a moment, and he didn't come back into his own mind until he had sunk down to the floor, panting and loose and sated - for the time being - while being drawn into the comforting arms of the woman he loved.

"You okay?" she asked near his ear after a few moments.

He nodded, lifting his head from where it had been slumped on her shoulder, and a lazy grin lit his face. "Yeah. I'm... great. That was..."

She smiled that little falsely shy smile of hers, her legs tangled with his on the floor. "Yeah. Thought so. I... uh... I liked it too."

Drawing her closer with his arm around her, Bucky looked at her with wonder in his eyes and said, "_That_ was what you missed being able to do?"

She shrugged and looked down, but he tipped up her chin to make her keep looking him in the eye. "Yeah. I just... I don't know. I like it. I mean, I miss the other stuff too, _duh_, but... you've been so good and so selfless to me. I just really wanted to... blow your mind." She paused, squinting slightly. "No pun intended."

He kept a straight face long enough to nod and reply, "Consider me... blown."

She burst out laughing the minute the words left his mouth, and he started laughing right with her. She covered her face with her hands and he tugged her closer, utterly _adoring_ her and loving how easy it was to laugh with her like this. Everything was so easy, even effortless sometimes, and yet nothing was less intense or more boring because of it. He didn't know how that was even possible, but it was something he'd never ever take for granted.

"Come on, sweetheart," he eventually said quietly, getting up first and then scooping her up into his arms. He carried her to the bed and, rather than lay her down carefully on it like he normally did, he took advantage of her good health and gently tossed her down on top of it. She giggled the minute she hit the mattress, but that lighthearted feeling only lingered for a few more moments before the fire came back and chased the whole world away.

He was still careful with her leg, and he suspected that he always would be. The difference was that now that leg was no longer an obstacle or a hindrance, and he proved this to Summer by taking his time in kissing every last inch of it.

There was scarring along where it had been broken and operated on, but the marks were already a little better than they had been before. Most were around her knee and below it, jagged and asymmetrical as they marred what had once been perfectly smooth skin. She had been remarkable so far in accepting the scars and not appearing overly insecure about them, but just in case, he wanted her to know that he accepted them as wholly as she accepted his.

He glanced up at her occasionally as he kissed his way up the leg, and she laid there and watched with a quietly content look on her face. She'd grin when his eyes would meet hers, and he'd grin back before closing his eyes and devoting all of his attention to his task. Before he knew it, he had passed her knee and was dragging his lips up the inside of her thigh. He felt her tense and shift with anticipation, but when he was almost _there_, he bypassed it and began kissing up her stomach inside.

There was no mistaking the slight disappointment on her face, but it only made him grin before kissing her lips and then flipping them so that she was on top of him, straddling his hips. She squeaked a little at the change, then smiled and pressed her chest to his as she leaned down and kissed him feverishly.

A few moments passed before she broke away, then sat up and blushed a little bit as he ran his eyes down the sight that she provided.

"So," she said, trailing her hands along his chest while his skimmed up her hips and her sides, "I got to do what I wanted... I guess it's your turn now."

He nodded, feigning a contemplative look as he watched both of his hands slide over her breasts, then caress down the sides of them before he met her gaze. "... I think I want you on top."

She smiled and looked to the right before pointing out, "I already am on top."

"... Of my face," he clarified.

He wished he could have recorded the way that her smile froze on her face and her eyes widened in what was surely a moment of pure panic. Her silly reactions to things like his rather filthy suggestions were one of the many things he loved about her.

"... _Oh_!"

He raised an eyebrow, smirking. "_Yeah_."

"Um..." The _overwhelming_ blush on her face was also present on her neck, and even her chest was turning red. As much as he loved it and could spend all night enjoying her squirming, he knew what he had to do next.

He sat up, hands going to her hips as hers went uneasily to his shoulders, and he said gently, "You don't have to do it if you _really_ don't want to, but..."

"... But you want me to?" she asked quietly.

He looked her in the eyes and said with pure sincerity, "I've wanted it for a _long_ time. I just didn't think you'd want to, so I've waited. But I just..." He trailed off, licking his lips, unsure of how to put his feelings into words.

"I mean... I know it's not like it's actually any different from what you already do, but... just... _man_."

He nodded. "I know. And like I said, you don't have to. But... you asked what I wanted, so..." he smiled, shrugging slightly.

She stared at him blankly. "... Why?"

His smile slowly disappeared, and suddenly, rather than have to fight to find the right words, they were all somehow on the tip of his tongue. "Because you are _amazing_, Summer, but you think too much. The only time you _stop_ thinking is when you feel so good that you stop caring about how you look or how you're acting. And you're _perfect_." Her eyes widened a little bit again, though not in shock like before, and he gently touched her face as he repeated softly, "You're perfect. And when I try to imagine how you'd look riding my face..."

Her mouth fell open and the instant blush returned, and he couldn't help but smile, though his own words made his heart rate pick up a bit.

She was speechless and dumbstruck, so he kissed her softly, then tried to distract her with sweet but heated kisses across her jaw and down her neck. He spent some time on her favorite spots, sucking and nipping before lazily kissing back up her neck, until he reached her ear. He kissed under it, then bit playfully at her ear lobe before murmuring against it, "Please, baby, for me."

He heard her actually whimper, and he pulled back to see her staring at him with fully dilated eyes and her mouth still open.

"You..." She blinked and smiled, "You've never called me that before."

"You like that?" he grinned.

She nodded, biting her lip. "Yeah. And okay."

He raised his eyebrows hopefully. "Okay?"

Her blush deepened and she nodded. "Yeah. Just... don't let me fall or... suffocate you or... drown... you..."

He couldn't help but smile widely in response and shrug, "Okay. Can't think of a better way to go, though."

She rolled her eyes and playfully smacked his shoulder, and it only made him grin wider. He was aware that he was smiling like a teenage boy about to get to see his crush naked for the first time, and he just didn't care, because dammit, he was _excited_.

"And after?" she asked, smiling as he peppered her with small but enthusiastic kisses.

"After," he replied, "I'm gonna make love to you until you make me stop."

He could _see_ her swallow, and her voice came out as barely more than a squeak. "Okay."

He bit his lip and then kissed her, holding her to him as he leaned back and let himself fall on the bed, taking her with him. He'd never understand how he got so lucky as to find this brave, endearing, beautiful creature, but one thing was for sure. He was never letting her go, and the only thing stopping him from asking her to marry him right then was the overwhelming need to prove to her that she was nothing short of a goddess among women.

And if she still wasn't convinced once the night was over, then he'd believe it for the both of them, especially after the sight of her doing what he had asked of her ended up being one of the highlights of his entire life.

* * *

Morning came all too early the next day, but Summer couldn't find it in her to even _begin_ to complain.

The room was perfectly warm, and the sun was bright but not too bright outside of the windows as she awoke and gently stretched her limbs through the messy sheets. Bucky was behind her, flesh arm thrown over her waist and still asleep, at least for the moment.

She was sore, especially in her legs, but it was the _good_ kind of sore, the sort that brought a smile to her face as she opened her sleepy eyes and settled in closer to the warm body behind hers.

What a day yesterday had been. And what a _night_ had followed it.

Some small part of her had expected to wake up and somewhat cringe at a certain part of the night, but she felt absolutely nothing but _amazing_ about every last thing that had transpired. Bucky's request had been an exercise in trust and confidence-building - not to mention the whole _mind-blowing pleasure_ thing too - and now she just felt silly for having had such a terrified initial reaction to it. The rest of the night had been more familiar territory but no less amazing, and they had utterly relished finally being able to do _everything_ they wanted, with no fear of aggravating or worsening an injury on accident.

There was also something almost imperceptibly different about it all, but she hadn't been able to put her finger on it. It was something about the way that he had looked at her and held her, told her that he loved her as he slid within her, but she just couldn't tell what it was.

What she _could_ tell was how incredibly happy he seemed to be.

She was thinking about his big, carefree smiles that had been so commonplace that night when she felt him stir against her. He tightened his arm around her, groaned softly, and then pulled her closer against his chest, all without opening his eyes once. She smiled and settled against him, wanting to purr like a cat when his fingers started trailing up and down her side.

She was nearly back to sleep when those comforting, warm fingers suddenly started tickling her and made her squeal like a very loudly dying mouse.

"Holy crap, _why_?!" she asked through half-terrified giggles when he stopped, turning over to find him quite awake and grinning at her distress. "Why would you _do_ that?"

"Sorry," he shrugged innocently, voice heavy with sleep. "Just checking if you were awake yet."

"... Well, I think you took care of that one," she said, chest heaving still. She flopped down on her pillow and eyed him pointedly. "Next time you want to check if I'm asleep, feel free to... you know... do something else with your fingers to check."

His lazy grin didn't budge. "All right. Next time."

She sighed and then, despite still kind of wanting to smack him, scooted closer to him and snuggled up to his chest, though her intentions weren't entirely pure. She waited until he had wrapped his arm back around her and tucked her head under his chin, and then she started tracing pointless lines down his chest and, eventually, his stomach.

There was exactly one place on his entire body where he was significantly ticklish, at least as far as she currently knew. She had found it by accident, months ago, and this was the first time she would be able to use it to her advantage.

"What time is it?" he asked, voice still sleepy.

She traced just near the spot, beneath his navel and towards his right hip, and she answered softly, "Almost nine."

He groaned his acknowledgment and then pressed a kiss in her hair, and she smiled and waited for him to completely relax before striking. And when that moment came, she brushed her fingertip across that one ticklish zone, and he jerked immediately.

Before he could say a word, she grinned and then launched an all-out assault in retaliation of his earlier one, and she couldn't believe it, but he actually _giggled_ in the middle of flailing and trying to get her off of him. It was a sound she'd never forget.

"Stop, stop, _stop_," he laughed, both of her wrists in his hands when he wrestled her (rather easily) to her back, and she couldn't help but dissolve into her own giggles all over again.

"You giggled!" she squeaked, not minding how he was pinning her to the bed in the least. "Oh my God! You totally giggled like a little girl!"

He scoffed while in the midst of still laughing, and he moved both of her wrists to one hand as he shook his head at her. "No I didn't."

She raised both eyebrows pointedly. "Oh yes you did."

He shook his head again, and she missed how his now-free hand was sneaking down the bed, heading for her side. "No I didn't. _This_ is giggling like a little girl."

She then nearly screamed with almost painful laughter as he mercilessly attacked her side, and with that, the tickle wars had officially commenced. Both of them being rather stubborn, neither were willing to concede defeat for some time, and the morning became one full of laughter, breathless pleas to stop, and sweet kisses interspersed between brutal tickle attacks.

They had many, _many_ good mornings under their metaphorical belt, but she was pretty sure that this one was in a category all its own.

When they both finally agreed to a draw, they collapsed next to each other in the bed, Bucky on his front and her on her back, covered just barely by a thin sheet. He wasn't covered by _anything_, however, and it was more than just slightly distracting.

He caught her staring and cracked open an eye at her as she smiled. "Well, that was fun."

He grinned and shifted to his side, propping his head up on his hand as she sat up a bit. "Yeah. Wasn't how I planned to spend the morning, but..."

"How did you plan to spend the morning?" she asked, grinning suggestively.

"Don't know," he said, evading a real answer. "But we've still got time for a few things I had in mind."

"Just as long as they don't involve my legs," she said. "Because they're like noodles right now. Definitely gonna need my pimp cane today."

"Yeah?" he grinned, free hand slipping under the sheet to trail softly - not ticklishly - over her stomach.

She nodded. "Entirely too much riding of... several... parts of you, probably."

He laughed, deeply enough that his eyes shut for a moment, then replied, "Sorry."

"No you're not."

He nodded. "I'm not."

Then it was her turn to laugh, and she sighed before turning to him and simply staring for a moment. She just couldn't help it - his hair was beyond mussed, his cheeks were still slightly flushed from all the tickling, and he was looking at her _like that_ again. That peculiar way that she just couldn't figure out, and at the moment, she didn't care to try to.

"I love you," she said quietly, smiling and reaching to tangle her fingers with his metal ones.

He smiled back, but rather than say the words back, he pulled her hand to his lips and laid a soft, unexpected kiss on the back of it, near her knuckles. Then he grinned up at her in that strange way, and she _finally_ figured out what it was. It was an _I know something you don't know _sort of grin, but that actually only served to confuse her more.

She slid closer to him, lowering her face down near his level, and she smiled as she asked, "Okay, _what_? _What_ are you smiling so much about?

"Me?" he asked innocently.

"Yes, you," she rolled her eyes, still smiling. "Something's up. What is it?"

To her surprise, the grin then fell off of his face, and his expression slowly became one of complete and utter seriousness. She suddenly wondered if she had said something wrong, or read him completely inaccurately.

Then his metal fingers laced with her normal ones, and his eyes grew softer and determined at the same time, never leaving hers. Seconds passed, and she grew more confused with each one, but she didn't dare open her mouth to ask what was wrong, because she wasn't sure if she had ever seen him so suddenly and wholly serious before. And that was saying something.

But then, just a little bit, his eyes lightened, and he drew a breath. And with that breath, and with just a ghost of a smile on his lips, he softly spoke three words and changed her life forever.

"Marry me, Summer."

It was the very last thing she expected to come out of his mouth.

She stopped breathing, her heart nearly stopped beating, and if the Earth had stopped spinning at that moment and hurtled directly into the sun, she wouldn't have noticed or cared in the least.

She had done a lot of open-mouthed, wide-eyed staring in her lifetime, especially when it came to this particular man, but the look on her face in that moment put all of those previous ones to utter shame. And all the while, he was staring at her with hope and fear and happiness and vulnerability in his eyes, and holding her hand in his like it was a lifeline.

And when she finally found her voice and managed to give him an answer, it was nothing short of being entirely _her_.

Her voice was barely above a whisper and somewhere under a squeak. "Okay."

Then she immediately shook her head and blinked several times, quickly amending, "Oh my God, not 'okay'. Yes. _Yes_. Yes, I'll - am I hallucinating, or did you really just ask me to marry you?"

He smiled, and it was the kind of smile that could break her heart and stitch it back together again. It was the single biggest, happiest smile she had ever seen on his face, and she could have sworn that he, who as a rule really did not cry ever, was getting pretty damn close, judging by the way his eyes were shining. "Yes I did."

This was real. She wasn't dreaming.

_He had just proposed to her_.

"Oh my God," she replied, heart racing and a tidal wave of happy tears about to burst forth like a broken dam, and then she was watching with saucers for eyes as Bucky smiled with elation and then rolled over towards his bedside table.

He grabbed something out of it hurriedly and then rolled back over to her. His metal hand reached for her left, and then his right hand - which was shaking - opened to reveal his grandmother's ring.

The ring was what made it all real. And once it was real - undeniably real - she started crying.

"I don't know if this'll fit," he said, his voice trembling as much as his hand was, and her eyes flickered from his face to his fingers as they slowly slid the ring onto her left ring finger. "If not then I'm sure we can fix it, or... if you don't like it, I could find something else, or..."

He was _rambling_. This had never happened before.

She held up her left hand in front of her face, testing the ring's fit and staring at the gorgeous opal that sat in the old-fashioned setting, and she felt a tear escape her eye as she said with a huge smile, "No, I love it. And it fits. It fits fine. See?"

She held out her hand for him to see for himself, and once he did, the smile on his face returned with full force. He took her hand and clutched it tightly, watery eyes meeting her freely-crying ones as he asked, "You mean it? You _really_ want to marry me?"

"Oh my _God_, yes," she assured him, sniffing back more tears. "I'm just - I'm in shock. I didn't think you'd ask me for like... years, and we never talked about it."

"I know," he replied. "I know, but I've been thinking about it and waiting for the right time and... I just couldn't wait anymore. I didn't want to wait."

She beamed, then paused and said excitedly, "David! David is going to _freak out_."

"He already knew I was asking you," Bucky grinned.

Her eyes widened. "_What_?"

"He was the first person I told. I asked for his permission to ask you, and he gave me his blessing."

And just like that, Summer melted to the floor and fell in love with him all over again.

"I love you," she said, squeezing his hand. It was all she could say in that moment. It just kept getting better, and she wasn't sure how much more she could take before she simply just _died_.

"God, I love you too," he smiled, grabbing her face with his free hand and kissing her with every ounce of joy that was in his being, and at the moment, it was a _lot_. She kissed him back in pure bliss, the weight of the ring on her finger a welcome burden that she'd gladly carry for the rest of her days.

She hadn't seen this coming, not one bit, and the surprise and the shock of it made it all the sweeter. She wasn't sure how long they spent like that, kissing and holding each other and laughing softly every time their eyes would meet, but her first coherent thought after a little bit of the shock had worn off wasn't what she would have expected.

"You know..." She looked at him and the sheets barely covering their bodies, then grinned, "You proposed to me while we were both naked."

He grinned and stole another kiss, flesh fingers running over the ring and the finger that it now sat upon. "Maybe that was my plan."

She smiled back and caught the glint in his still-shiny, unbearably happy eyes, and then she simply couldn't herself. She _pounced_ on him, and his head hit his pillow with a satisfying _woosh_ as she climbed on top of him and said, "We're engaged."

His smile was every bit as wide and silly as hers. "We're engaged."

"You're my fiancé now," she said, leaning down and kissing him, then pulling back and adding, "That's super hot."

He laughed at her words, closing his eyes as her mouth went to his neck. But he couldn't help but ask, "Are you sure you don't want to get up now and... start telling people, or..."

Her head popped up, and then she shook it. "Nope. They can wait. I can't."

He growled his agreement, and then he turned them over, kissing her deeply and entwining their hands again so that her left was joined to his right, and before they got carried away in the moment, he had one last thing to tell her.

"Thank you for saying yes," he said softly, eyes full of emotion and love that she'd never _ever_ be able to doubt again.

As usual, she said the first thing that popped into her head. "Thank you for passing out in front of my old house like a million years ago."

His smile grew and then he kissed her once more, and together they rang in their first day as an engaged couple the best way they knew. And it was _perfect_.

The previous day had been a pretty good one. But all future days had a hell of a job to do to ever even hope to live up to _this_ one.


	35. Chapter 35

Summer couldn't wipe the enormous smile off of her face as she led Bucky by the hand out of his room, into the hallway and towards the room where her son was still asleep. Her legs were sore and a bit shaky, but the latter was due mostly to the lingering shock and pure happiness still coursing through her veins. Nothing in the whole world could distract her from the extremely important task at hand: waking David up with the good news.

When she got to the door, Summer glanced back at Bucky and widened her smile before turning and opening the door, leading him inside the room and carefully avoiding stepping on toys that littered the floor. David was curled up and asleep under his covers, and the television on the wall was playing the menu of the DVD he had fallen asleep to, providing a whimsical soundtrack as Summer made her way to the bed. She perched on the top corner, facing David, and Bucky sat closer to the bottom, facing away but watching with a stubborn smile of his own as Summer gently shook her son awake.

"David," she called gently, in what she referred to in her head as her "mom voice", and it took a few moments for him to stir and slowly open his eyes. Once he did, he looked at her and then closed his eyes again, rolling over to ignore her, so she laughed and gently shook him again.

"Come on, kiddo. It's time to wake up, _and_ I have something big to tell you."

At that, David opened his eyes again and rolled back over, blinking at her with curiosity in his sleepy eyes. That was also when he noticed Bucky's presence down near his feet, and David looked back and forth between the two of them like they each had sprouted alien heads.

To be fair, they _did_ look quite ridiculous with the smiles plastered on their happy faces, Summer especially.

"Guess what B-..." she quickly corrected herself, "_Daddy_ gave me?"

David stared at her blankly until she held up her left hand, showing him the ring that Bucky had himself showed him only two days before. It was then that David paused, stared at the ring, and then shot up suddenly while rapidly signing to both of them with a big smile growing on his face.

"Whoa, slow down," she laughed, unable to quite decipher what he was saying since he was going so fast. David then paused impatiently and started over, and when she was able to follow this time, she grinned and replied, "Yep, he asked me."

The little boy then utterly mauled them both, incredibly excited and instantly full of joy, and if it was possible to get any happier than she already was, it certainly happened in that moment.

In the midst of the impromptu, deathly-tight group hug, Summer looked at Bucky from over David's little shoulder, and he caught her gaze and returned the smile that she sent his way. They'd both predicted this jubilant reaction, but there was nothing quite like experiencing it.

After he pulled away from them, still smiling, David bounded up and out of bed, and went about his usual solo routine for dressing and getting ready for the day while practically bouncing the whole time.

Now sitting next to Bucky, Summer nudged him and said, "Told you he'd freak out."

"He looks happy," Bucky said quietly, smiling back at her.

"He _is_ happy," she replied. "You've totally changed his life, you know. From the very start."

Bucky smiled softly and nodded, then looked away, appearing to be in thought. Summer smiled and laid her head on his shoulder, hoping that knowing the good that he had done for the both of them would help combat all the guilt she knew he carried with him every day. Some of the guilt was for them and the danger they'd faced because of him, and the loss of their house. The rest of it was for actions that he had never been responsible for but he still carried the shame of anyway.

That guilt, though, seemed to be slowly easing from his shoulders with the more time that passed. She suspected that it was partly due to his part-time job as a masked vigilante, which gave him a much-needed sense of truly helping others and slowly making up for all of the blood on his hands. But, as she watched Bucky's bond with her son deepen over time, she could see how that was also helping him to see himself in a different light. A year ago, the word _father_ would have made him run for the hills and possibly never come back. Now he welcomed that word and seemed honored to take it on.

And he wanted to marry her. She still couldn't believe it.

Her head still on his shoulder, Summer held up her left hand in front of her and admired the ring now sitting upon it for what was probably the hundredth time in just an hour. She felt Bucky's head shift against hers as he also looked at her hand, and then his right one was holding hers and his thumb running softly over the stone.

"It looks perfect on you," he said quietly.

"It's beautiful," she smiled.

"It's not too old fashioned?"

"Definitely not," she assured him. "It's vintage." She lifted her head to look him in the eyes and grin. "Kinda like you, actually."

He exhaled a chuckle and then kissed her, softly and sweetly, at least until David reappeared in front of them and started tugging excitedly on both of their hands. Summer broke away with a quiet giggle and let David drag them both to their feet.

"Ready to spread the news?" she asked him, and he excitedly nodded. Then he held up his hand and wiggled his fingers, as if to mime magic, which she knew to be his personal sign for Wanda, and then he pointed to himself. "You want to tell Wanda yourself?"

He nodded, then sprinted for the door. She wasn't surprised. As time went on, he only got more and more glued to the woman's side, enough to make Summer worry that Wanda would get annoyed, but she had assured Summer multiple times that she didn't mind in the least. It was a relief, because David currently considered Wanda among his favorite people in the universe, and that was no small feat.

Her own excitement building once again, Summer held Bucky's hand in her own and smiled at him once more as they left the room, then headed towards the kitchen, her thoughts racing with all the names and people she needed to blurt out the news to. There was everybody here in the tower, and then there was Paul and Sarah, and that was mostly the whole list, but she knew a _lot_ of people in the tower...

Once they had approached the kitchen, Summer smelled coffee in the air and found Steve to be the only person present there or in the entire common area. He was also half asleep, in a too-tight white t-shirt and blue pajama pants, and his hair was sticking up rather comically as he looked their way and smiled cheerfully.

"Morning," he said. "I made coff-_oomph_."

David had all but jumped on him, making his sentence cut off and tired eyes widen at the sudden assault. Then David was beaming and once again signing rapidly, and Steve, the poor barely-conscious guy, watched helplessly and had no clue what the kid was telling him.

He looked at Summer and Bucky for help, and they both smiled before turning to each other. Unspoken words passing between them, Summer broke out into her idiotic smile and stepped forward, proudly holding out her left hand to display the ring and squeaking, "We're getting married!"

Steve stared at her hand, blinking once and then looking up at her, smiling, and then looking at Bucky, who was standing there and grinning with nothing but pride and happiness on his face. Steve's smile became _enormous_.

"Oh my God, congratulations, guys," he gushed, first drawing Summer into a hug and just about engulfing her. She was used to super soldier hugs, but Steve was basically a human version of Thor, and he nearly squeezed the life out of her before letting her go and then hugging his best friend.

It was, surprisingly, the first time she had ever seen them hug. She suspected that it wasn't a coincidence and that they actually probably hadn't hugged much at all, because Bucky's arms hung awkwardly at his side for a second before he snapped out of it and returned the hug. Sometimes it was easy for Summer to almost forget that Bucky still had a lot of memories left to recover and that, while he and Steve were close, they still weren't where they had once been. But that gap was ever dwindling, and the way that Bucky smiled and genuinely hugged Steve back was a good sign of that.

When Steve pulled away, he looked so incredibly happy that it made Summer actually hurt a little inside.

"This is great! You sure didn't wait long," he said, clapping Bucky's shoulder.

Bucky shrugged and replied, "Well, someone reminded me that I'm not getting any younger, so..."

"So you knew too?" Summer grinned at Steve, who nodded sheepishly.

"Yeah, I did. But only since two nights ago. And I only told Nat."

"Told me what?" Natasha asked, strolling into the room with her hair up and face make-up free, still stunning in loose black shorts and one of Steve's shirts.

Summer wheeled around, smiled excitedly at her, and thrust out her hand. She was starting to really enjoy this stuff. "We're getting married!"

Natasha smiled quietly at her and Bucky behind her, then took her hand and adjusted it so she could see the ring better. Then her smile grew as she looked back up and pulled Summer into a hug, which was also a rare occurrence. "Congratulations. I'm happy for you two, I really am."

Summer squeezed her happily and then pulled back, pleased by the genuine smile on Natasha's face, and then she watched as Nat smirked at Bucky and said, "Good job on the ring."

"It was my grandmother's ring," he replied, playing off the compliment but surely secretly appreciating it.

"Nice. So let's hear it," Nat said, heading for the coffee.

"Hear what?" Summer asked.

"The story," Natasha grinned over her shoulder. "How he asked you."

"Oh," Summer smiled, looking at Bucky and then pausing before giving her answer. "Well, we woke up today and had a... tickle war, and then he asked me. And it was way more perfect than I just made it sound."

"Tickle war?" Steve asked, brows slightly raised.

"Is that a child-safe euphemism?" Natasha asked.

Bucky shook his head. "No. It was an actual tickle... war."

"I guess it was one of those things where you had to be there," Summer shrugged. "But it was seriously _awesome_."

"Well, this is great," Steve smiled. "And I think a certain little boy might actually be the most excited about it."

True to his words, David was still bouncing around, at the moment looking for more people to tell the good news to, and Summer shared another smile with Bucky before they eventually managed to wrangle the boy to the table and start actually having breakfast.

After that, there was a steady stream of newly-awake people making their way into the room, and the story was retold with each one. First there was Sam, who had been out of the loop and was the first to be actually surprised by the news. He gave Summer a one-armed hug and patted Bucky's non-lethal shoulder, and when she mentioned the "tickle war" portion of the story, he grinned and said, "So that's what the kids are calling it these days." Before she could set him straight, Darcy popped up and gave her a whole new set of problems.

"Oh my God!" she said, plopping down at the table next to Summer and inspecting the ring. "Nice! Like it's old looking but good old. Like the kind of ring you'd see on a classy, pretty old lady, not the angry ones that throw their shoes at you for accidentally cussing in front of them."

"Yeah, that's... uh... accurate, I guess?" Summer shrugged, smile plastered to her face.

"Man, this is great! So what kind of wedding are you gonna have?" Darcy asked, letting go of her hand and pushing her glasses further up her nose, looking at them both.

"I actually... have no idea yet," Summer admitted, glancing at Bucky to find him as clueless as she was.

"Dude," Darcy waved her hand vaguely, "you should totally go get hitched in Vegas. Just imagine it. All the Avengers in Vegas. Just imagine what could happen."

"Vegas would never be the same," Summer replied, eyes wide.

"I know. But no, seriously. Church wedding? Outside wedding? Destination wedding? Elopement?"

Summer shrugged helplessly. "Oh man, I don't know. I'm gonna have to think about it for awhile."

"Oh fine," Darcy sighed. "So, what about babies?"

Summer choked on the sip of coffee she had been drinking, and David, two seats away at Bucky's side, instantly looked up and smiled brightly at Summer as she tried not to sputter everywhere.

"I, uh... what about them?" she smiled uneasily, glancing nervously at Bucky in the process.

"How many are you gonna have? Because let's face it, you guys will make ridiculously pretty little people."

"We, uh... um... haven't actually..."

Thankfully, just in time, Darcy's phone rang at that moment, and she groaned as she checked the ID and muttered, "It's my mom. We'll finish this talk later."

"... Okay," Summer said, face slightly red as Darcy got up and headed out of the room. She looked at Bucky, whose expression wasn't nearly as nervous or suddenly anxious as hers was, but she couldn't quite bring herself to actually address the topic at hand.

Getting engaged was a big enough step, she thought. Talking about _this_ also... wasn't it a bit much? She didn't want to scare Bucky off or put a damper on what was otherwise an incredibly happy day by bringing up something he might not feel comfortable with yet.

So, she fidgeted nervously instead of growing a pair and actually talking about it. Then when Wanda showed up in the kitchen and David saw her there, he all but jumped off of his seat and headed her way, then unintentionally made Summer's ordeal even worse.

She watched as David ran up to the woman and tapped his temple, and Wanda blinked tiredly at him before giving him a small smile and gamely following his lead.

Then Wanda looked Summer's way with a quietly surprised expression, and Summer's face-splitting smile returned at full force.

"Oh," Wanda said, drawing her hand away and looking at the couple in question. "You are getting married?"

Summer nodded from the table and replied, "Yup. Since this morning!"

Wanda then glanced at David and then said, "And you... are you..."

Summer paused, then watched Wanda gesture vaguely to her stomach before she suddenly got it.

"Oh! No! No, I'm not... pregnant," she replied, face burning as she wondered why - _why, God, why_ \- this had to keep getting brought up today of all days.

"Oh," Wanda said, perhaps a little embarrassed herself. She gestured to David and said, "He showed me a picture in his head, and you were... holding a baby, so..."

_Thanks, Darcy_, Summer groaned internally, though she was also simultaneously surprised and maybe a little touched that David was so instantly a fan of the idea. At least she didn't have to worry about _his_ reaction to a potential new baby's presence.

"Oh, yeah, no... Darcy just put the idea in his head like five minutes ago, so..." Summer again glanced at Bucky, who still looked impressively neutral, though also amused at her slight floundering.

"Oh. Well, congratulations," Wanda smiled before turning her attention back to David, who was tugging on her sleeve and probably not ready to leave her alone for at least the next hour.

Summer smiled and looked away, glancing again at Bucky, who had barely taken his eyes off of her since Darcy's interjections. She looked away and then looked back at him a few times, trying to get her nerve up, and finally she managed to suck in a breath and say, "So..."

He raised an eyebrow and leaned his head on his hand. "So."

Before she could even begin to blurt something out, however, Steve walked by and (thankfully) ruined the moment by giving Bucky's shoulder a heavy pat and saying, "Take the day off, pal. We can handle training without you today."

"Oh. Thanks," Bucky nodded to Steve, who gave him another pat and turned to Summer next.

"Figured you guys could use the time to get some stuff squared away. Maybe get started on wedding plans," he grinned.

She smiled back. "Yeah. We probably should do that, since right now I have no idea. About anything."

They both chuckled at her, and then Steve paused before saying, "Well, I'm just happy for you both. Enjoy your day. Tell me all about it later."

Bucky chuckled quietly and nodded again, and with that, Steve left them alone. Summer had officially lost her nerve, and when Bucky looked at her again, she decided to deflect by asking a completely relevant question, though it was one she knew he likely didn't really care about.

"So, do you want to get married in a church or outside?"

He just smiled and finished his coffee. Summer smiled back and laughed to herself, having a feeling that it was going to be an interesting day and that the baby topic would come back up one way or another.

* * *

Not too much later after that entertaining breakfast, Bucky found himself standing on Paul's doorstep, next to Summer, waiting for the door to open. She bounced excitedly on her heels after she knocked on the door, and between them, David was doing nearly the same thing.

Then Paul opened the door, looking like he had _just_ rolled out of bed, and as he squinted at them, Summer squealed and shoved her hand in his face.

"Hey, what are you guys doing h... what the hell, Summer," he groaned, pulling away from her hand, "are you trying to punch me?"

"No, you idiot, look!" she exclaimed, nearly smacking him as she thrust her hand out again. "Look!"

Paul narrowed his eyes and grabbed her hand, then looked closer and promptly snapped his head up, looking back and forth between them.

"Are you telling me it _finally_ happened?"

Summer laughed and nodded. "Yes!"

"Oh my God, my sister's marrying a creepy old man," Paul said before drawing her into a big hug with a huge smile on his face.

If Bucky was just the slightest bit relieved that Paul didn't freak out and immediately announce his disapproval of the idea, he kept it to himself and simply mentally chided himself for being nervous in the first place.

"Come in, come in," Paul said, releasing Summer and then dragging her inside. He then patted Bucky on the shoulder and said, "Me and you are having a talk by ourselves later."

"Oh no, Paul, please don't -"

He held up his hand and smiled. "It'll be a good talk, calm down. Besides, if I was gonna break the shotgun out, I would have done it a long time ago."

He then smiled at Bucky and let him step through the door, and Bucky looked up to find that look of pure joy on Summer's face that hadn't left once since he had asked her to marry him. He reached out and took her hand as Paul closed the door behind them and said, "Okay, you guys head to the kitchen and I'll get Sarah, because she'll kill me if I hear the whole proposal story before she does."

He then headed up a nearby staircase, and Summer steered both David and Bucky towards the kitchen. As she did, though, she leaned in close to Bucky and asked barely above a whisper, "This is all okay, right? I don't want to overwhelm you with all of this."

"It's fine," he assured her. "It's worth it to see you this happy."

Her smile widened and she couldn't help but lean up and kiss him briefly, before they entered the kitchen and took their seats at the table there.

Most of the kids were at school that day, minus two year old Sofia and baby Marina, so there was no stampede of children to greet them or eight year old Maya to turn Bucky's face into her personal makeup canvas. Instead, after only a few moments, Paul reappeared with Sarah, who had Marina on her hip, and Bucky watched with endless amusement when Summer jumped up to shove her hand into yet another new face.

All morning, he had watched with ever-growing amusement and affection as he watched her share the news with nearly everyone she knew, utterly glowing and giggling and practically walking on air as she did. Now, that affection all but tripled as she hugged Sarah, then came away suddenly holding little Marina, who had giggled and latched herself to Summer during the hug. Then she sat down next to Bucky, and while the sight of her holding this particular baby had always stirred something buried within, now he knew exactly what it was that caused it. And Summer seemed terrified of even broaching the subject.

After they had told the proposal story - and gotten the same reaction from Paul as Sam regarding the apparently hard-to-believe "tickle war" - Paul didn't wait too long to suggest leaving the women alone to talk wedding things so that they could have their own "man to man" talk.

Paul took Bucky outside, in the backyard, which as backyards went was pretty nice. There was an in-ground pool and a big trampoline, two sandboxes, a swingset and various other stuff that made it a kid's dream. He wondered if Paul wasn't hinting at something by bringing him out there, but Paul ended up sitting him down a little picnic table that was almost comically too small for either of them to comfortably fit in.

"So," Paul sighed, leaning his arms on the table, "this is definitely happening."

Bucky smiled, just a little, and nodded. "Yeah."

"Not gonna lie," Paul said, looking down, "I do wish that you had asked me first, just because our dad's not around and I try to fill in for him as much as I can."

"I know, but... that's why I asked David's permission," Bucky explained. "He's... the boss."

Paul smiled and nodded. "Yeah, I guess you're right. He sure seems happy about it. And I noticed what he's calling you know."

"That just started. Started when I asked him about marrying her, actually," Bucky replied.

"I'm sure I don't have to tell you how big of a deal that is," Paul said. "I mean, that kid is extremely selective in who he'll even acknowledge. And for him to actually call you that - that's huge, man."

"I know. Trust me, I know," Bucky said quietly. "It scares me but at the same time I just... it feels right."

Paul nodded. "Like marrying her?" After Bucky nodded, Paul added, "You know that it's gonna be actually forever, right? My sister's extremely traditional, even if her life so far has been the opposite. She's wanted this longer than she'll admit."

"You mean marrying me?"

He nodded again. "And babies. Maybe you haven't noticed this but when she holds my baby, she looks over at you with these giant sparkling Spongebob eyes basically begging you to knock her up."

Bucky stared at the other man and said, "I... no, I haven't noticed that."

"Probably because you're too busy staring at her like your begging her to _let_ you knock her up. Which I find completely disturbing, don't get me wrong, but seriously, have you guys even had that talk yet?"

Bucky shook his head. "No."

Paul sighed and muttered, "See, she won't take the initiative here on almost anything because she's scared of scaring you off. And that's not your fault or her fault, it's Mark's fault. He shut her down every chance he got when it came to _everything_, so now she's got this mortal fear of asking for basically anything."

Bucky frowned, having not really noticed this before but now that Paul mentioned it...

"So for now, I think it's on you to bring up stuff like that. And don't just ignore it or put it off, because I guarantee you she doesn't want to wait that long."

"You sure?" Bucky asked.

"Oh yeah. And now that you're engaged..." Paul shrugged. "Just talk to her about it. That's what the engagement period's for. Lots of talking. And arguing too, because everybody's stressed out with wedding plans and family members and whatever drama inevitably happens, so it's great practice for being married."

Bucky nodded, though inside, he was screaming a little. Asking Summer to marry him had been easy and incredibly simple, but now with everyone suddenly talking about babies and stress and all of these things that he _wasn't_ sure how he felt about... it served as a rather efficient buzzkill, to an extent.

"But hey, for what it's worth," Paul said, "you _have_ been a good father to my nephew. You've taken better care of my sister than I thought any guy she went for ever would. And this is coming from someone who used to trust you about as much as I'd trust Peter Pettigrew."

"... Who?"

"She still hasn't gotten you to watch the Harry Potter movies?" Paul asked, as if such a thing was truly shameful. Bucky shrugged no, and Paul sighed, "Such a slacker. But anyway. You see my point."

He nodded. "Yeah. Thank you."

"You're welcome. Also, good job on that ring."

Bucky couldn't help but smile, this being the second time he'd gotten that particular comment that day. "It was my grandmother's."

Paul's eyebrows shot up his head. "Whoa. That makes it, what, two hundred years old?!"

"Not quite," Bucky said, trying not to roll his eyes. "But it's old. And it's been through a lot."

"Fitting, then," Paul smiled. "Oh, and one more thing. Summer's got that whole self-sacrificial streak thing in her, which is fine, but don't let her cheat herself out of a good wedding just for the sake of being cheap or easy or whatever. I grew up with her, so I know more than anyone how much she's always wanted an awesome wedding. Not necessarily a big one or anything, but just... a really nice one, with a big dress and the whole nine yards. So make sure she has that."

Bucky nodded, unwilling to have it any other way. "I will."

"Good." Paul then paused and added, "And it goes without saying that if you screw this up or leave her that I'll find you and make you die a very slow, painful death."

"Of course," Bucky shrugged. That really did go without saying, especially since Bucky would hurt himself long before Paul ever could if he ever ended up being stupid enough to do either of those things.

"Sweet. Okay. Then I guess we're done here. Now just take a look around and catch a glimpse of your future."

Paul then waved dramatically to the backyard in general, and Bucky chuckled quietly while sweeping his eyes over the space and everything kid and family related within it.

A part of him was still significantly scared, but he knew he could, and would overcome it when the time came. There were, however, two things he needed to talk to Summer about first, and he planned to do this before the day was over.

* * *

Summer left her brother's house absolutely buzzing with excitement. Her brother and sister in law had been the first actually married people she'd gotten to talk to since becoming engaged, and after Sarah had started a lively conversation about the joys and stresses of wedding planning, Summer suddenly couldn't wait to get started. She had no clue where to _start_, but once she figured that out, she was fairly confident that it would be fun, and besides, she did this kind of stuff for a living now. It would be a breeze.

Then, upon returning to the tower, Bucky had surprised her by telling her to get dressed and ready to go out - as in going _out_ \- and then briefly headed to his room before all but disappearing before she even got a chance to tell him goodbye or ask where they were going.

After that, she asked around to find out who was willing to take David while she and Bucky were gone, and after Steve volunteered, Natasha suggested she tag along and make it a movie date. From there, it turned into a group outing with Sam and Darcy, and after David tracked down Wanda and begged her to come also, the group was complete. They left before Summer did, in order to grab something to eat first, and she couldn't believe how _normal_ everything was under the seeming weirdness. David's trust in people had never been higher, and she couldn't have felt safer knowing that he would spending his day with no less than half of the Avengers. Really, what more could a mother ask for?

After they had gone, she focused on getting ready and fell into a deep, dark hole of angst when faced with the very real dilemma of whether to wear a bra or not wear a bra with the white sundress that she had chosen to throw on. Ultimately, she decided to be brave and not wear the bra, only because the straps of it would have been distracting (to her, at least) under the much thinner ones of her dress, and the dress actually had a bit of built in support, which was helpful. Then, with _that_ decided, she decided to be even braver and wear heels for the first time since her accident.

The shoes in question were a pale, pretty yellow pair with small heels, nothing like the skyscraper-high ones that she owned but wasn't comfortable wearing yet. She figured she could handle the shorter heels, and after slipping them on and running a brush through her hair, she grabbed her purse and headed out of her room.

She checked her phone and found a text from Bucky telling her to meet him outside in fifteen minutes, and she smiled at his oddly mysterious way of treating this particular date before as she headed out of the hallway. Then she paused at the sight of Tony and Vision standing in the middle of the kitchen, Vision coughing with what looked like a glass of whiskey in his hand.

"Oh come on, man - that's my best stuff right there," Tony said, watching as Vision sputtered like a kid who had just had their first taste of hard liquor. Because he sort of... was.

"That is the most unpleasant drink I have tasted," Vision said, handing the glass back to Tony. "Thank you for sharing, sir, but..."

"Yeah, yeah," Tony sighed. "Well, maybe one day you'll acquire a taste for it. She sure did."

Summer suddenly smiled at the unexpected acknowledgment, glancing at the clock on her phone before stepping closer to them. "Yeah, that stuff _is_ pretty delicious."

"See? Told you," Tony said to Vision before turning and flashing a smile at Summer. "So, I hear congrats are in order."

She managed only a smile back before Tony threw an arm around her and gave her a small but surprisingly affectionate hug, patting her back as he pulled away. "Yup," she grinned. "I'm so excited I might die."

Vision listened with interest as Tony replied, "Yeah, I can tell. So, when's the wedding?"

"I'm not sure yet," Summer replied, again checking her phone. She had about ten minutes left. "We've got a lot to talk about."

"I bet," Tony nodded. Then he paused, glanced down at the glass still in his hand, and said, "Now don't get me wrong here, because the last thing I want to be is a giant buzzkill, but I do have something serious to ask you about all this."

Her smile shrunk a little. "Oh. Okay."

"You know what you're getting into, right?"

Summer's smile returned at that question. "You mean with Bucky? Yeah, I've got a pretty good idea by now."

Tony squinted a little and said, "That's not... exactly what I meant. I meant your life. What it'll be like once you make things permanent."

"I... well, I don't think it'll be much different, honestly," she shrugged, wondering exactly what Tony was getting at.

Tony glanced over at a wall and nodded, then said, "Yeah, you're right. This is exactly what it's gonna be like," he gestured to the tower in general. "You're gonna be on the run for the rest of your life. You _and_ your kid."

"... On the run?" she asked in slight confusion.

"Yeah. You know that everybody and their third cousin is looking for him. CIA, FBI, every country that HYDRA ever screwed over, which is a lot. Every shadowy, scary intelligence agency you can think of and the supposedly 'good' ones too. Want to know why they haven't found him yet?"

Summer stared at him and asked in a small voice, "Why?"

"Because every week, me and Nat leak false info to those bastards. Last week there was a Winter Soldier sighting in Berlin. This week it was Bangkok, which, by the way, is my favorite city name ever, but I digress. They haven't found him because we've been covering for him and sending them on very well constructed wild goose chases. And erasing every trace of his existence that we can."

Summer felt her jaw drop a bit. Of all the things she had imagined being among the main reasons why Bucky was currently free, it wasn't that. "Holy crap."

He took a sip of the whiskey in his hand. "Yeah. It's not easy, either, but we've managed to stay a step ahead of everyone. Otherwise he probably would have been killed or arrested months ago."

She was speechless. Natasha she could see doing this, but Tony? It wasn't the sort of thing one would expect considering the history between the two men. After floundering in silence for a moment, she asked quietly, "Does he know?"

Tony shook his head. "No. That was Steve's call. Something about stress prevention and keeping him from freaking out and pulling a Twilight and splitting for your safety. But my point is, I don't know that we'll be able to protect him forever. It's working now, but if somebody picks up a real lead one day? Wouldn't be good, kid."

"But..." Summer tried to find something to say, anything, but Tony painted such a grim picture that she couldn't form a single word.

"Look, like I said, I'm not trying to be Captain Party Pooper here. I'm really not. If you're happy then you're happy and you should do what keeps you that way. But you're a good kid and I just want to make sure you know _all_ of what you're getting into."

She nodded, understanding where he was coming and actually rather touched by the concern. Tony was the Avenger she probably saw the least of out of all of them, but he had been the first one she had ever spoken to, and he had slowly warmed up to her since her arrival at the tower ages ago.

"I understand," she finally replied. "And thank you for doing that for him. I wouldn't ever ask you to do it after... what happened."

Tony nodded, then shrugged and said, "Well, I heard your kid's calling him 'Dad' now. I happen to know how bad it sucks to lose your dad."

"So do I," she replied. "It's the worst."

"Yep. Even if they were a dick," Tony said matter of factly before blinking and changing the subject. "But anyway. Good talk. Hope I didn't ruin your mood too much."

"Not at all," she shook her head. Then she paused and decided to heck with it and hugged Tony, taking him by surprise and not caring, because if he was one of the main reasons why Bucky was with her and not dead or in prison, then he deserved a _lot_ of hugs.

"Oh, hello. Wasn't expecting this," Tony said, patting her back as she poured all of her gratitude into a big squeeze. Vision watched with a quiet, small smile on his face, surely fascinated by her odd human behavior.

She pulled away and then smiled, "Yeah, me neither, but just take that as a hug from all of us. Thank you for helping him."

Tony nodded. "I'd say no problem but it actually _is_ a pain in the ass. But you're welcome. Going somewhere?"

"Yeah," she smiled. "Date, I guess." She checked her phone and then said, "I actually have to go out and meet him now."

"Well, have fun," Tony said, knocking back the rest of the drink and then setting the glass down. "And don't start looking over your shoulder because of what I told you. The whole point of it is so you don't." He narrowed his eyes then and said seriously, "Got it?"

"Totally," she beamed as he then gave her one more pat and walked away, leaving her standing in front of Vision and turning her smile on him.

She was just about to turn and leave when Vision said in his usual quiet, thoughtful manner, "I look forward to this... wedding. It sounds nice."

"I think it will be," she smiled. "And hey, it'll be your first wedding you've been to. That's awesome. Make sure you bring a date."

He paused. "A date?"

"Yeah. Everybody brings dates to weddings. And besides," she added casually, "Wanda will need a date, too."

His already puzzled expression grew more curious, but Summer merely left it at that and left with a quiet goodbye. She'd never been much of a matchmaker, but she had called that one awhile ago before anyone else had. If it ever came to fruition, she'd be the first to break out into an "I told you so" dance right in the middle of the tower.

Making her way to the elevator, she checked her phone once more and found herself right on time. She headed down to the ground floor with a smile on her face, a part of her still slightly disturbed by what Tony had told her, but the rest of her too optimistic to let that worry get her down. She had already known that Bucky was a _very_ wanted man, and now she knew that one of the world's richest and smartest men and a world-renowned spy/assassin was watching out for him and covering his tracks. In the end, finding this out only made her feel more secure.

So, with her smile still stuck on her face, she headed out of the tower and on to the sidewalk, under the warmth of the sunny afternoon sky and still firmly on cloud nine. She looked around for Bucky, expecting him to be on foot and already waiting for her, but he was nowhere to be found. She checked her phone again, ignoring the sound of a rather loud engine approaching as she started texting Bucky to find out where he was at. The engine sound grew louder, until it was right in front of her, and she was just about to hit the send button when she looked up in annoyance.

Then her mouth fell open and she dropped her phone on the sidewalk, because the obnoxious sound was coming from a sleek black motorcycle that had just pulled up and came to a stop only feet from where she was standing, and sitting on top of that motorcycle was the unfairly gorgeous creature she was lucky enough to call her fiancé.

He was dressed to _murder_ her, in black leather pants that she hadn't seen since their Coney Island date ages ago plus a jacket to match, white t-shirt underneath, and aviators that he took off as he turned his head her way and grinned like the cocky jerk that was still very much alive underneath everything he'd been through.

"Need a ride?" he asked as she stood there staring and gaping like an idiot. The fact that his hair was windswept and perfect was just icing on the maddening cake.

"... Where... why... how?" was all she managed to get out of her mouth, only making him grin more.

"Where is a surprise. Why is... obvious. Not sure how to answer the how," Bucky replied. Then he dropped his eyes down, trailing them all the way to her feet before slowly bringing them back up again and grinning, "I like that dress."

She snapped her mouth shut at last and then picked up her miraculously undamaged phone, then stepped closer and asked more coherently, "Where did this come from? Is this yours?"

"Actually yeah," he replied, leaning back some but staying where he was as she ran her wide eyes over the bike. "And it's from Steve."

"Steve?" she repeated, staring at the thing with both admiration and terror.

"Yeah. Gotta have some way to get around, being 'on the team' and all," he explained, catching her eye and grinning widely again. Then he handed her a helmet that had come from out of nowhere and said, "Hop on."

She stared down at the helmet with wide eyes and immediately started shaking her head. "Oh _God_, no. I can't. No."

"Yes you can," he assured her with a smile, making her take the helmet as he drew his hand away.

"No, I've never been on one of these things before, and I'll probably like panic and cry -"

"You're gonna be fine. Do you trust me?"

She snapped her eyes up to his, inwardly cursing all the freaking leather and the hair and just _him_ for being so perfect. "Of course I do, but -"

"Then put on the helmet and get on. You're gonna love it."

She eyed him skeptically. "And if I don't?"

He shrugged and replied, "Then I'll pull over, but that's not gonna happen. Come on, Summer." He smiled and motioned for her to get on, and she gulped before looking down at the helmet again.

She couldn't believe she was doing this. She'd rather just sit there and stare at him sitting on the thing, not actually ride it herself, but she still ended up shoving the stupid helmet on her head and letting him help her get on the bike behind him.

"You know," she muttered once she was sitting behind him, trying to figure out where to put her feet and also trying to smooth out the skirt of her dress, "what is it with you and getting me to ride things? If it's not your... you know... then it's your hand, or your face, and now a freaking motorcycle..."

His grin widened as he turned and looked at her, fully amused as he replied, "I see where your mind's at."

"Oh, like you didn't know that's where my mind would be the minute I saw you sitting on top of this thing in leather and those sunglasses."

"Yeah, but you knew the same thing when you put that dress on," he pointed out, looking her up and down again in a way that made her heart pick up some. He touched one of the dress's thin straps and said, "It's so thin. I'd rip it in half and fuck you on top of this bike right now if I could."

Her jaw dropped - _again_ \- and she didn't say anything, because she knew only incoherent jibber would come out if she actually tried.

He simply grinned wider and kissed her softly, then slipped his sunglasses back on, turning back around. He then reached behind him and took her arms, wrapping them around his middle as he said nonchalantly, "Hold on to me tight, okay?"

"... Okay. Where are we going?" she asked nervously, doing as he said and trying to clear her mind of the images he had just placed within it, but it wasn't easy.

"Out of the city," he replied. "And if you get scared or need me to stop, just pull on my jacket."

She anticipated pulling a lot. "Okay."

"Ready?" he asked.

Before she could squeak out an answer, he kicked the engine back to life, and she jumped as soon as it happened. Her arms held on to him for dear life, and she squeezed her eyes shut as he drove them into traffic.

At first, it was _horrible_. She felt like an insignificant bug surrounded by much bigger cars and trucks just waiting to smack into her and send her and Bucky flying into the pavement, but she didn't pull on his jacket. She was determined to at least give this a decent try, and by the time he had gotten them out of the city and on to a less busy highway, she _finally_ managed to start calming down and letting herself actually look around rather than just keep her eyes closed and chant prayers for survival in her head.

It actually wasn't so bad, she decided. Once she got used to it, it wasn't as terrifying as it had been at first. In fact, after awhile, she started to think that it was even a little fun.

Then a semi passed them, and the terror returned tenfold. She still didn't pull on Bucky's jacket, but she did make about ten different deals with God in as many seconds.

It felt like an eternity passed and like they should have crossed at least two state lines by now when Bucky finally took an exit off the highway. In reality, it hadn't been even ninety full minutes since they had left the city, but nonetheless, Summer's relief was palpable when his speed decreased and he drove them into a small city that she'd never been to before.

It was one of those cities that was often overlooked, probably only stopped in by non-residents for the sake of getting gas on the way to somewhere else, but Summer found it cute in an unassuming way as Bucky parked them in front of what looked like a tiny downtown square. As soon as the engine was off, she took the helmet off and left it on the seat before bolting to her feet and letting out the world's most relieved sigh.

"You okay?" Bucky asked, taking the glasses off again and hanging them on the collar of his white t-shirt as she turned around and looked at him wearily.

"Yeah, I think so. Just had like twenty near death experiences, but I'm good."

Swiftly, he secured the bike and then got off of it and walked to her, smiling reassuringly as he said, "We never even came close. We were fine. But if you were that scared, you should have told me."

"No, I didn't want to be a baby about it," she muttered, running her hands through her hair to try to reverse the havoc the helmet had played on it. "And it _was_ fun. Just not when there were semis trying to kill us."

He chuckled and then threw his right arm around her shoulders, walking her to the nearby sidewalk. "You did great. And nobody tried to kill us." Then he paused and kissed her temple. "Thanks for doing this with me, sweetheart. I've been wanting to take you out on that bike since I got it last week."

She sighed and leaned against him. "Well, hopefully the way back will be easier. By the way, why'd you bring us here?"

Looking around the simple, quiet buildings that surrounded them, Bucky replied, "I just figured getting away for awhile would be good. No tower, no city, nobody we know. Gives us a chance to talk."

Hands linked as they walked aimlessly down the sidewalk, along the small businesses that populated the area, Summer looked up at him and asked, "About wedding stuff?"

"Yeah. And other things," he said, giving her a small smile.

She grinned back, though she wasn't sure what he was getting at. "Okay. Like what?"

"Well, first, do you want to walk or do you want to find something to eat?"

"Definitely walk for now, because I'm still getting over the urge to throw up," she said, making him grin again before he nodded. "So...?"

"So," he replied, and she could tell by the little smile on his face that whatever it was that he was about to say, he was a bit nervous. "I've been thinking."

"Okay," she smiled, stomach knotting up slightly as she waited.

"I talked to your brother, and we didn't talk about this, but... some stuff he said made me want to ask you about it today."

"About what? Kinda on the edge of my seat here," she said, letting out a slightly nervous giggle.

He took a moment, his eyes thoughtful as he looked ahead and gathered his words. Then he turned to her and asked, "Are you going to take my name?"

She nodded quickly. "Oh yeah. Of course."

He nodded back. "Okay. Then... I think David should have it too."

Her steps slowed, and he came to a stop while looking at her like he was nervous for her reaction. Which he _totally_ shouldn't have been.

"You mean... you want to adopt him?" she asked. He nodded, and she watched relief set in on his face as she smiled so widely it almost hurt. "That's.. oh my _God_. Yeah! I would love that - _he_ would love that. That's perfect!"

"Good," he smiled, still looking incredibly relieved, and his hand squeezed hers briefly as they started walking again. "Just... with him calling me _Dad_ now, it feels like the right thing to do. Make it official."

"Yeah," she agreed, still looking up at him with her huge smile. "You know that this is a huge deal, right? I mean, he's never even met his real father, and this is just... I don't know what to say."

Bucky smiled back before asking quietly, "Will his real father be a problem?"

She paused. "Well... I don't think so. I'm sure he'd be happy to sign his rights away and not have to worry about sending me checks every month. I'll have to actually get in touch with him, though."

"Can't a lawyer do that for you?" Bucky asked.

"Yeah, but that's the other thing... I have a feeling we're gonna need, like, probably Tony's help with the legal stuff." When Bucky looked slightly confused, she added, "Because you don't exist, technically, and you can't just walk into a courtroom and petition for an adoption. Same thing with a marriage license, actually."

"Right," Bucky muttered, turning his eyes back to the ground.

"But it's okay. We'll make it happen," she smiled.

Never in a million years would she have believed back she and Bucky had first met that he would be marrying her one day and adopting her son, but that merely made this day all the sweeter for how truly unexpected it was.

Bucky looked up and smiled back at her, glancing at a store they were walking past - a tiny photography studio - and then he drew a breath and said, "The other thing I was gonna bring up is sort of... about the same kind of thing."

Summer glanced over at the store that he had looked at, and sure enough, in the window, there was a giant picture of a little baby girl dressed from head to toe in pink frills. She then turned back to Bucky and said cautiously, "You know we don't _have_ to talk about this now. I mean, proposing and adopting David are both huge enough, you know, and -"

"But I want to talk about it," he said quietly, coming to a soft halt on the sidewalk.

She nodded, fiddling with her hair and having no idea why _this_ topic, more than any other, made her so nervous. "Okay," she said, and then he was pulling her by her hand towards a little bench sitting nearby.

Once they sat down, Summer started fidgeting with the hem of her dress with her free hand, and this didn't go unnoticed by the man sitting next to her.

"You okay?" he asked, eyes going from her nervous hand to her face, which flushed a little when she looked up and met his gaze.

"Yeah, I'm... well," she sighed, deciding that it would be best to just get this over with and blurt out everything currently swirling around her brain, for better or worse. "I know what you're going to talk about, and I'm just afraid that everybody immediately jumping to the whole baby talk thing today is making you do this, and I don't want that. Because you've come so far, and _we've_ come so far, and we're taking big enough steps as it is without talking about _this_, too."

"I'm not bringing it up because Darcy did," Bucky replied. "Or Paul."

She blinked. "_He_ brought it up, too?!"

Bucky simply smiled and said, "If I'm adopting your kid, Summer, it's probably... normal to talk about this next. Not that I would really know, but... just feels that way."

Summer couldn't really argue with his logic. She released her dress and sucked in a breath, trying to keep her hand sitting still for the time being as she said, "Okay. You're right."

Bucky only let her prepare herself for a few seconds before he dived right into the as-yet uncharted territory in their relationship. "Do you want more kids? With... me?"

She looked up at him and felt her words fly out of her mouth so fast that it almost left her dizzy. "I've wanted to have your babies for, like, _ever_ now."

His eyes widened by just a fraction and his little surprised smile was instant. "Really?"

"My God, _yes_," she half-groaned. "I've been holding it in for a long time because I was pretty sure I'd scare you to death if I said anything, but..."

"That doesn't scare me," he assured her. "At least not that part."

She paused, searching his face for clues as to what all was going through his head at that moment. "What does scare you?"

"I guess it's just... the idea of a baby," he said, looking down at their still-joined hands. "I wouldn't know what to do with one. And with what I do..." He trailed off, jaw clenching almost imperceptibly.

"By what you do, you mean being a hero and saving people and catching bad guys?" she smiled. "Because it's pretty damn cool. What kid wouldn't want a superhero for a dad?"

"I'm not a -"

"You kind of are," she interrupted, still smiling. She used her other hand to turn his face back towards hers, making him look her in the eye. "And as far as the baby stuff, you'd learn. It's pretty easy once you get the hang of it. I did with David. If I did, _anyone_ can."

He looked at her a bit skeptically. "What if I can't?"

"Can't get the hang of it?"

He shook his head. "No, have kids."

She stared at him in slight confusion for a moment, wondering why that would even be a worry of his before she caught on. She dropped her voice to a whisper, just as a precaution, and asked, "You mean because of... the serum, or the... freezing, or something?"

"All of it," he said. "I mean, I have no idea either way. It's not like I've been tested, but... when it comes to people like _them_, there's a... tradition of eliminating the potential for certain things." He glanced at Summer and quickly added, "But I was just a gun, and I wouldn't have had the chance anyway. So maybe they left that alone."

Summer had never thought of that. Bucky was so healthy physically and overall the very picture of the male form at its peak, like Steve, that the question of fertility hadn't even occurred to her once in her entire time of knowing him.

"Yeah, I would think so," she replied. "Seems like that would have been the last thing they'd worry about, considering, but... if you want, you could get tested, just in case."

He looked at her, a hint of caution in his eye, and asked quietly, "And if it turned out that I can't?"

"Well, I'd be bummed out," she admitted, figuring there was no use in hiding that fact, "but it wouldn't change anything for me. There's a lot of options these days for couples with fertility issues. And even without all of that, I'd still be incredibly happy with you and David. I _want_ babies, but I don't _need_ them to be happy. Trust me."

"You sure?"

"Positive," she smiled. "And besides, if you ask me... I think it's more likely that you've probably got, like... how do I put this... crazy-fast, like, Olympic-grade, extremely functional super-sperm."

She hadn't maintained her previous whisper-time for that particular line, and she said it unintentionally loudly just as an old lady walking three yappy little teacup dogs walked past them. As Bucky laughed at her terms of choice, the old lady sent Summer a rather pointed glare, and her face turned bright red before she broke into her own giggles.

"... And I just basically yelled that for this entire city to hear," she said, covering her face as the old lady strolled away with her nose in the air.

Bucky pulled her against him with his arm around her shoulders, smiling against her hair. "Yes you did. But I appreciate the vote of confidence."

She groaned at her own ineptitude before dropping her hand from her face and peeking up at Bucky. "Yeah, you're welcome." They sat there for a few moments, both seeming to simply absorb everything they had talked about so far. Then a thought popped into Summer's head. "I wonder if the serum you got would affect a baby somehow."

"I don't know," Bucky said quietly. "I guess it could."

"I mean... I would _guess_ that it wouldn't hurt the baby at all. Unless it like... grew too fast because of it, or... needed extra calories and nutrients and I couldn't... supply them."

She glanced up at Bucky and got the feeling that she wasn't exactly easing his mind. "But," she quickly added, "from what I've heard, Steve should be able to have kids fine. So you should too."

"But I don't have what Steve has," Bucky reminded her. "Same effects, but different stuff."

"I know. But I really doubt anything bad would happen. We can talk to a doctor and get this all figured out soon. But," she straightened up and looked him in the eye to make sure he was listening to her, "I mean it, though. No matter what, we'll be fine. I'm not worried."

He nodded, accepting her sincerity and not questioning it. "Okay."

"Okay," she smiled. Then she paused. "Does this mean I can get off the shot now? Or should we wait until we're married?"

It still felt incredibly strange to say the word _married_ so casually, but she absolutely loved it. Bucky's expression became more thoughtful before he asked, "How long do you want to be engaged for?"

"Not that long," she replied without hesitation. "But planning a decent wedding takes awhile, even for a small one."

She paused, thinking, running through a number of possibilities in her head as Bucky waited for her to come up with a number. A year felt way too long, but a few months probably wasn't enough to find and order a dress and get everything else squared away. Maybe it was best to meet in the middle.

"Six months, maybe?" she suggested with a shrug.

Bucky nodded. "I can live with six months."

"Okay. And actually, I would be due for another shot around then, so... I can just get off of it then. And ask a doctor about everything first."

He nodded again. "Yeah."

She smiled again, the muscles in her face almost aching at this point with all of the excessive smiling she had been doing all day. "I still can't believe we're doing this. Can you believe we're really doing this?"

"Barely," he admitted, hand going to her face to brush his thumb along her cheek. "I love you."

She smiled even more and then leaned in close, kissing him sweetly and mentally _squealing_ in pure bliss. She had meant what she said to him. No matter where they went from here and how much bigger their little family eventually got or if it remained the same, she would be incredibly happy and satisfied either way. There was no room in any of this for sadness or worrying, at least not today, and after she pulled away from the kiss to find them both grinning like morons, she all but leapt up to her feet and dragged him off the bench.

"Let's go find something to eat and walk around some more," she said happily, walking ahead of him until he caught up with her in one stride and kissed her again. She grinned more after pulling away and asked cheekily, "Hungry?"

"Always," he murmured, stealing a kiss on her neck before she giggled and pushed him away, keeping him at arm's length so he wouldn't devour her right there on the street.

"Come on. Food first, _then_ you can try to distract me," she said, staying ahead of him as he scoffed at her words but went along with her anyway.

From there, they continued to traipse around the unfamiliar town on foot, and Summer convinced him to settle on the very first diner they came across when she realized how starving she suddenly was. She felt strangely lighter and more carefree now that they had talked through things and even set a timetable for the wedding, not to mention _finally_ had the baby talk, and she was still utterly ecstatic over the adoption thing. Simply put, the day had been pretty damn near close to perfect, minus the whole motorcycle-induced panicking thing, but she could deal with that.

At the diner, they ate cheap but surprisingly tasty food, and Summer laughed while showing Bucky pictures Steve texted to her of the whole group at the movie theater. In one picture, David was drowning in popcorn and sandwiched between Steve and Wanda, his two favorite people present, and Sam was photobombing from behind with a devastatingly serious model-esque expression on his face. Then, in another, Steve was getting actively pelted with popcorn from Natasha, and while David was cracking up at this, Sam was still crashing the photo, this time Darcy's help as they both shot the camera their best _I'm sexy and I know it_ grins.

By the time Summer and Bucky were done eating, they lingered at their table and chatted about less heavy and more frivolous things than they had on the bench, passing the time effortlessly and eventually almost losing track of it. The afternoon slowly turned into early evening and gray clouds covered up the previously brightly shining sun as they finally paid their bill and decided to leave, hand in hand and looking just as goofy going out as they had going in.

"So," she said as they stepped out on to the sidewalk again, heading back in the direction they had walked there in, "what kind of wedding would _you_ want?"

He let out an exhale of a chuckle and shook his head as they walked. "The kind where we get married."

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, but I mean like... outside or inside, at a church, or..."

"I really don't know," he admitted with a shrug. "I don't think I really have a preference. Whatever you want, I'll be fine with."

"If you say so," she sighed, shooting him a smile. Then, as they crossed a street and got started on the next block, something suddenly occurred to her for the first time. "Wait a minute. We're getting married."

"... Right."

She slowed down her steps and looked at him with a slightly shy little grin. "That means we get to have a honeymoon."

He grinned back, eyes shifting to something a bit more playful and mischievous than before. "You're right."

"Can you imagine... an entire week... completely to ourselves?" she asked, eyes a little wide as she considered the alien prospect. No kids, no Avengers, no work... just two of them completely alone in some place they would have all to themselves.

His arm was then around her waist, tugging her closer as his lips brushed teasingly at her ear. "I can _definitely_ imagine that."

"You sure you want to wait a whole six months?" she asked, peeking up at him and grinning before she suddenly felt something wet on the tip of her nose.

They both looked up at the sky at the same time, just as another raindrop splashed on her face, this time right in her eye.

"Ow," she muttered, covering her eye with her hand just before Bucky started cursing. Two raindrops quickly became a _million_, and just like that, they were suddenly being quickly drenched in the unexpected downpour.

And they didn't even have a car to escape to. _Fantastic_.

Summer groaned in dismay and held one hand over her forehead to keep her eyes shielded as Bucky grabbed her hand and then started quickly dragging her somewhere, and she had no idea where he was taking her until they got there.

_There_ ended up being an alleyway, one that wasn't completely safe from the rain but was much better than where they had been. Summer turned and looked out at the street, barely able to see anything through the rain, and she looked down at herself and fought the urge to slam her head into the wall. It just figured that the one day in her entire life that she'd chosen to wear a thin white dress with no bra on, _this_ would happen.

"Well, this is great," she muttered before turning to Bucky and immediately freezing where she stood. She'd been so busy angsting over her current drenched status that she hadn't noticed _his_, and his was... well, it was worth staring at for awhile.

He stood a few minuscule feet away from her, a few stray pieces of soaked hair stuck to his forehead and his clothes as wet as hers was. His right hand wiped his eyes free of the water clouding them, and then he blinked a few times and looked at her in a way that made her freeze even _more_.

She _felt_ like a wet dog, but apparently, that was the last thing she looked like. He ran his eyes from top to bottom, from her drenched hair to her feet in those small-heeled yellow shoes, and then his gaze lingered entirely too long at her chest for his own good.

She couldn't blame him, though, and she couldn't blame herself for taking him in just as greedily before grabbing him by his jacket in the very same moment that his hands shot out to her. Their lips met in a sudden, mutual frenzy, and then her back was slammed - somehow gently - into the alley wall, her body pinned between it and the very _eager_ man suddenly kissing her like he needed her more than air.

His hands started out her hips, gripping them and pulling them against his as they kissed like _mad_, and then in seemingly no time at all he was bunching up the skirt of her dress and pulling it up her thighs.

"Whoa," she said breathlessly, breaking the kiss and suddenly noticing that her hands were under the front of his shirt. He stared at her, eyes wilder than she expected and breathing through parted lips as she managed to squeak out, "We're in _public_."

"Nobody can see us," he told her, and a quick glance that she stole into the rain outside of the alley served as confirmation of that. Then he was kissing her neck, one hand letting go of her dress to trail up her stomach and over her breast through her now see-through dress, and any reservations she might have had to begin with evaporated into smoke when he groaned against her wet skin and snuck his leather-clad thigh between her legs.

"Okay," she squeaked, one of her hands now tightly gripping his slick hair as his hand on her hips ground her against him. "Yeah, you're right, you're... definitely... _uh_..."

Then he lifted his head and grinned at her, casting one more look out of the alley to check that the rain hadn't let up before he kissed her lips again and slid his hand to one of the straps of her dress. He kissed her deeply, his tongue doing almost filthy things with hers as his flesh hand's fingertips slipped under the strap and into the top of her dress. He squeezed, and she moaned quietly into his mouth and ground harder on his thigh.

There was something about doing this _almost_ in the public eye, _almost_ where they could be caught, that made it even more thrilling than usual, and while she hadn't expected that, Summer relished it as much as she could tell Bucky was. He broke their kiss and yanked down one side of her dress, then ducked his head down and made her bite back a yelp while his mouth worked its magic on her now-_very_ exposed breast. Her hips moved with greater urgency and she held his head close to her, then checked the rain one more time before letting her free hand go to his belt.

His headed lifted as she worked on getting the thing undone, and then he was helping her as he met her gaze and, to her delight, grinned softly at her. She grinned back and bit her lip, then giggled when he pushed her hand away and moved his under her dress, where he slid down her underwear with surprising gentleness. Then, just in case he had a sudden stupid moment and was about to toss the fabric on the dirty ground, she took them from his grip and then shoved them into a pocket inside of his jacket.

He merely grinned again and kissed her once more before making her giggle against his lips by picking her up and pinning her to the wall all over again. She wrapped her legs - still sore from the night before and already shaking a little - around his hips and held on to him tightly, alight with anticipation as he slid into position and then broke their kiss.

His forehead was against hers, his hair dripping with tiny droplets of rain and landing in various places on her as he opened his eyes and looked into hers with a heart-stopping intensity. She froze and stared at him, then lost her breath when he said in a low, lust-filled tone, "Don't you _dare_ keep your voice down."

She gulped. "But..."

Keeping his eyes locked with hers, he shifted them _just_ enough and her words died in her mouth, becoming a gasp that she couldn't hold back as he stopped teasing her. He kissed her again, enjoying the way her head dropped back against the wall and eyes closed as he moved in a deceptively leisurely pace, as if he had all the time in the world to torture her.

He leaned in and brushed his lips along her ear, saying in that same maddeningly dark tone, "Nobody else can hear you. Nobody's even out there." He kissed under her ear, along her neck and then back up again as his pace slowly increased, noises of his own escaping in the process. He never _could_ keep himself quiet, she was well aware.

It was pure, exquisite torture, made all the more incredible by the thrill and the slight fear caused by where they were doing this, and she was putty in his hands. He knew this, working her expertly with his body and hand as he coaxed her with words spoken sweetly and seductively into her ear at _just_ the right moment.

His voice was shaky and his breath came in heavy pants as she _almost_ lost her mind. "Come on, baby."

That single term of endearment whispered into her ear at these sorts of moments would be the death of her, she was sure of it.

Moving faster and so close now to his own end that she could _feel_ it, he sounded a little rougher and more desperate as he then said, "Say my name, Summer, _please_..."

And just like that, it didn't matter where they were, whether they were in the privacy of their own room or semi-exposed in an alleyway during a rainstorm, because she trusted him with everything she had within her and couldn't help but obey. And the best part of it all was how tightly he held her and moaned out his end against her neck, every bit as lost to her as she was to him, just like always.

For something rather quick and sudden in an _alleyway_ of all places, it left Summer feeling as warm and fuzzy and loved as she would have had this happened back home in Bucky's bed. In fact, as they recovered and he gently and reluctantly set her back down on her feet following several long, quiet moments of bliss, she felt his chest rumble against hers with a barely audible but deep _laugh_.

"What?" she asked in a hoarse voice - how loudly _had_ she said his name? - smiling dumbly as he straightened up and started fixing her dress for her, gently tucking her breast back inside.

His eyes met hers and his grin widened, his breath still coming heavy as he shook his head and replied, "I can't believe we just did this here."

"_You_ can't?" she said, slightly dumbfounded. He fixed his pants as she said with a smile, "This was your idea."

"I know. I'm a bad influence," he grinned, straightening out his jacket and then pushing his hair off of his forehead. "Sure you still want to marry me?"

She rolled her eyes, grabbing one of the sides of jacket and pulling it open to retrieve the underwear she'd stashed there. "Sure you want to marry a girl who just moaned a guy's name embarrassingly loudly in the middle of a downtown alleyway?"

"As long as it's my name," he grinned back as she slipped the underwear back on. Then he slid his jacket of and draped it over her, which she was extremely thankful for, considering the rather sheer state of her dress at the moment.

"Thanks," she said, sliding her arms through the too-long sleeves, though they surprisingly weren't too terribly oversized.

He nodded. "You ready to head back out?"

She glanced out of the alley and saw that the rain had died down quite a bit, which was incredibly convenient. Hopefully it would stay that way and they wouldn't get rained on the whole way home.

"Yeah," she replied, smiling up at him. "Now that I can barely walk..."

He grinned back and kissed her again, holding her to his side after he turned and started walking them out of the alley. "I'd say I'm sorry, but..."

"... But lying's not your thing," she finished for him, leaning on him and letting him help her walk because her legs, especially her recovering one, really _did_ hurt. But it was worth it.

The rain stayed away as they made their way home. She ended up enjoying the ride home much more than she had the ride there, holding on to him slightly less tightly and laying her head on his back as she watched the clouds in the sky break just enough to watch the sunset in a way she never had before.

All in all, not a bad first day of her engagement. Not bad at _all_.

* * *

Much, _much_ later that night, Summer couldn't sleep. Her day had ended as lovely as it had began, with herself and Bucky putting David to bed and taking turns reading him stories until he fell asleep. Then she and Bucky had a little more than an hour to themselves before he slipped out his window and headed out into the streets, leaving her with nothing to do but lay there in his bed and think. The nice thing was, all of the things she was thinking about were _good_ for a change.

Still, she had no hope of falling asleep anytime soon, so she got up and wandered into the kitchen for a drink of something, thinking she would _surely_ be the only one up at this hour. But she wasn't.

Natasha was there, sitting alone at the table and drinking what looked to be a cup of tea. She smiled as soon as Summer came into view, then said, "And here I thought you'd be passed out from all the sex I can only imagine you and Barnes have had today."

Summer smiled a bit sheepishly, heading to a cabinet to grab a cup. "Actually... it wasn't _too_ many times. We do have some self control."

Then Summer immediately cracked up at herself, because they really didn't, and everybody knew it. Including Natasha, who simply gave her a look over her mug.

"Okay, fine," Summer replied, ending up settling on a boring old glass of water from the sink. After she filled it up, she turned around and headed for the table, adding, "But no, I can't sleep because I've got so much to do and think about now. It's insane."

"The joys of wedding planning," Nat smiled as Summer took a seat. "Just take it slow and don't overthink it. You've got time."

"Six months," Summer replied, sipping the water. "But like... I've gotta think about _dresses_. I don't even know what kind of dress I want."

"Then trying them on will be all the more fun," Natasha shrugged.

"I hope so. Will you come with me when I go? I'm gonna desperately need your opinions."

"Oh of course," Natasha replied lightly. "It'll be fun. I've actually never helped anyone pick out a wedding dress before."

"Really?" Summer asked with a smile. Then she worked up her courage and asked Natasha something that she was pretty sure would be impossible to misinterpret. "Ever been a maid of honor?"

Natasha slowly set her mug down, and Summer watched as a real, genuine smile spread across the woman's face. There might have been some surprise there too. "Can't say that I have."

"First time for everything, though, right?" Summer grinned, expression hopeful.

"If you're sure," Natasha nodded.

"Oh I am. Just... you know... try not to outshine me too much," she half-joked.

"I don't think you'll have to worry about that," Natasha shook her head. "Got a date set yet?"

"No date yet, but... soon," Summer smiled. "I am just... ridiculously excited."

"Enjoying being engaged?"

"Oh yeah," Summer blushed before pausing and blurting, "We had sex in an alley earlier."

Natasha paused her mug halfway to her mouth and raised one eyebrow. "Nice. Alley sex is always fun."

"Yeah..." Summer sighed and leaned her head on her palm, unknowingly chewing her lip as she briefly got lost in thought.

"What is it?" Natasha asked. "I can see you overthinking."

"Oh, well..." Summer sighed and eventually said, "Well, the thing is, I've been thinking, and the wedding night is supposed to be this big special thing, but... we've already done pretty much everything." She paused. "Well, everything I'm willing to do."

"I'm sure it'll still be special," Nat assured her.

"But will it?" Summer asked. "I mean... I don't know. I wish I could do _something_ special for him. Like, if I was you, I'd just like... I don't know. Do some super sexy burlesque dance and blow his mind, but..."

Natasha didn't say a word. Summer looked up at her, saw the glint in her eye and the faint smirk growing on her face, and Summer's eyes widened. She knew what that look meant.

Summer had only one word to say. "No."

Natasha raised her eyebrows and cocked her head. "You _could_."

Summer shook her head adamantly. "I couldn't."

"I could teach you."

_Oh God_. "I'd suck."

"Not with enough practice."

Summer began to desperately grasp at reasons why this _definitely_ wouldn't work. "But my leg..."

Natasha shrugged. "It would be great therapy for it."

Summer began to sink down in her seat slightly, groaning as she said, "But I just... I can't, Nat. I can't. I mean, stripping and stuff?" Pure terror overcame her at the very thought.

"Look," Natasha leaned forward, "he drools over you with your hair in a knot and no makeup and sweatpants on. Right?"

"... Right," Summer agreed cautiously.

"So just imagine what he would do if on your wedding night, you sat him down in a chair, then put on a song and danced for him. And yes," Natasha smirked, "_stripped_."

Summer simply stared at the other woman and shook her head, her eyes huge.

"He'd never forget it," Natasha said. "And he definitely wouldn't be expecting it."

Summer gulped. "... You really think I could do that?"

"You can do anything you want to do," Natasha replied, fully believing what she was saying.

Summer couldn't help but smile, because Natasha had just unknowingly quoted Bucky himself when Summer had told him the same thing regarding the very same topic. During that undercover op at the burlesque club, she had admired the courage and talent of the ladies while also saying that she could never do it herself. Bucky had simply looked at her and told her that she could do _anything_ she wanted to.

... Maybe he and Natasha were on to something. Maybe?

"How would we... start?" Summer asked in a small voice.

"Well, we would come up with a routine. You'd need to start practicing right away. Three times a week, maybe more once we get closer to the wedding day. Just to make sure. It's a very choreographed type of dance and you'll need to know it inside and out. But all of that preparation will help your nerves, because it'll all be planned out and there won't be any surprises."

"... Oh God. Okay."

...Could she really do this?

"It'll be fun," Natasha said. "It'll help with your control and coordination, plus it'll be good for your leg. And once you do it for him... he'll never be the same."

Summer couldn't believe she was considering this. But... honestly, when it came down to it... _why the hell not?_

Natasha was right. She was _always_ right. And she was offering to teach her.

She did want to make the wedding night special, after all. And if this wasn't special, not to mention a fantastic gift to her future husband, then she didn't know what was.

_Well, you only live once, right?_

"So, what do you say?" Natasha asked.

Summer swallowed down the fear and nagging insecurities telling her to run the other way, and instead felt her face start to heat up with what had to be a particularly vibrant blush as she sighed and said, "You know what? Let's do it."

Natasha smirked and leaned back in her seat. "Well, this is going to be fun."

Summer giggled nervously and then covered her face with her hands, having no idea what she had just gotten herself into, but at the same time, she was pretty sure that one day she'd look back and be extremely thankful that she had the guts to just _do it_.

If it wasn't before, her wedding day was definitely going to be one _interesting_ affair now.

**A/N: sorry for the slightly late update! I just finished this chapter a few hours ago lol, because for some reason this chapter was extremely hard to get out. But, thanks to the help and ever-awesome ideas of midnightwings96, I managed to finish it ALMOST on time. Thank you guys SO MUCH for reading and reviewing, and for all the lovely feedback for last week's chapter :) This chapter here is a bit filler-ish, but all the ones in the near further aren't, so yay! Lol. ****Oh and! If any of you are in the mood for a Steve/OC story, check out Mooka333's _It's Been a Long, Long Time. _She's a lovely writer and lovely person, and her stuff is totally worth a read :D ****Thank you guys again, and I will see you all next week! :D**


	36. Chapter 36

Summer fidgeted on her feet, chewing on her lip and deciding that she was quite sure that she could not do what Natasha was asking her to do.

Standing in front of her, Natasha crossed her arms and sighed quietly. "It's really not that big of a deal."

"I know," Summer said, nodding. "I just... um... I know I'm going to look like an idiot doing this, so..."

"You're not going to look like an _idiot_," Natasha replied. "You're going to look like a beginner. We all have to start somewhere. And trust me, I'm not one to judge."

"Yeah, but," Summer continued fidgeting, "I just hadn't realized that _this_ would be what we'd be starting with."

"Well, ultimately, there's no point in learning a burlesque dance if you don't know how to strip properly," Natasha explained. "So we need to work on this first."

"Right," Summer breathed, looking around Natasha's room and putting her hands on her hips. "I just have to stand here and practice taking off my bra and stuff. Over and over."

"If you're _that_ uncomfortable," Natasha said, taking a few steps back and sitting on the edge of her bed, "I could always make it even and be in my underwear, too."

"... Yeah, somehow I don't think that'll help me much," Summer shrugged, pretty sure that such a thing would have the opposite desired effect and make her feel even less secure.

"Okay. Well, time's ticking," Natasha said with a slight grin. "Being an Avenger and all, I _don't_ have all day."

Summer sighed, briefly closing her eyes. "Okay. Fine. Let's do this."

"Good," Natasha nodded. "Start with the bra, and once you've gotten better at that, we'll move on to taking off a garter and hose."

She said it like she was discussing the weather or mentioning ingredients needed for a pie. Summer groaned inwardly and willed herself to just get over it, taking off her shirt and turning around, officially beginning what she was mentally calling "wedding night boot camp".

Reaching both arms behind her, she found the clasp of her bra and proceeded to fumble with it like a pubescent boy trying to get his first look at real boobs for the first time.

After an entire minute had gone by, she dropped her arms and slumped her shoulders with a groan. Behind her, Natasha asked, "How do you normally take off your bras?"

She turned and muttered, "I pull the straps off and like turn it around and then unclasp it from the front. So in a completely non-sexy way, in other words. I've always sucked at taking them off the normal way. Plus half the time I don't even _have_ to take them off myself."

It was true. Bucky could get her bra undone with a hand that wasn't even made of human flesh in the blink of an eye, while both of hers took about a million years to get the same result.

"Okay, well, let me show you," Nat said, standing up and shedding her own top. Then she turned and, with all the grace and effortless skill of someone who extremely competent and good at these things, reached back and unhooked her bra perfectly. Then she glanced back at Summer and said, "That's your goal."

"... I'm doomed," Summer decided.

Natasha simply chuckled and then re-hooked the clasp, and that might have been even more impressive than how easily she had unhooked it. "No, you just need practice. Now keep trying."

"Okay," Summer muttered, turning back around and trying again. If she couldn't do this, then she really did need to just pack it up and go home, and figure out something else to make her wedding night more interesting.

But then, what else could she really do? She ran through a number of options in her head, each one more embarrassing than the last, ranging from letting him find her tied to a bed or just doing nothing and letting the night go as it would, but she _really_ wanted to make this work. It would be amazing if she actually pulled it off, and he would absolutely _love_ it...

Then she felt the clasp snap apart, and she startled out of her thoughts and exclaimed, "Hey, I did it!"

"You did," Natasha smiled. "But it took you about thirty seconds. Now keep practicing. Remember what I showed you."

"Okay," she sighed, her motivation improving as she re-hooked the bra - with even more difficulty - and then began practicing until she was blue in the face.

The nice thing was, as her struggle continued, she stopped thinking so much and feeling nervous, mostly thanks to the repetition of what she was doing and getting used to the idea of doing it in front of someone. Of course, her anxiety had a good shot at returning full-force once it was time to actually get mostly naked, but she'd worry about that when the time came.

After an unknown amount of time that Summer didn't want to measure in order to maintain her dignity, she finally managed to unhook her bra quickly enough and in enough consecutive times that Natasha gave her an amused slow-clap.

"Okay, I think you're getting it now," Nat said, and Summer sighed with relief. "You'll need to keep practicing, but let's move on to the fun stuff."

"The fun stuff?" Summer asked warily, though she was pretty sure she knew what was coming.

Natasha nodded. "Now you get a lesson in taking off garters and hose."

She suddenly wished that she could go back to the bra stuff.

About an hour later, Summer had learned the finer points of shedding lingerie by both watching and by practicing taking the various items off, and she also picked two songs to use when that fateful wedding night finally came. The first song, a slower one, was one that she knew from Bucky's records, and the second was a more modern take on another song from his time. Both were on the shorter side and quite different, but when played back to back, they were perfect for what Summer had in mind. With Natasha's seal of approval, it was one more decision regarding the wedding night surprise down.

By the end of the hour, she was already a bit tired, and she hadn't even started the dancing stuff yet.

_Those_ things, however, would have to wait for another day. It was still morning, and she had somewhere rather important to be.

She took a little bit longer jumping in the shower and getting ready that day, making sure that she looked almost at her best, and she made sure that David was in tip-top shape too. Once she was satisfied in their appearances and refusing to feel silly about it, she grabbed a thin folder containing a set of legal papers, her purse, and a bag of snacks for the road, then got on the elevator with David and headed down to the gym that Bucky was currently in.

Once they arrived, Summer blinked at the Fort Knox-level of reinforcing that Tony had apparently done with the space. What had once been a fairly normal gym now looked like some kind of government training facility, still full of exercise equipment that catered to everyone but also expanded and more open, enclosed by thick glass and... steel walls?

Of course, Thor and Bucky had almost destroyed the whole place with just their friendly sparring months ago, so it made sense that Tony had upgraded the place.

Standing on the safe side of the glass, Summer slowly walked forward and peered in, her eyes landing on Bucky almost instantly. Today, it was just him and two others, Wanda and Vision, though it was technically their day off. Normally they did their training now at the new place that Summer had yet to visit, but Bucky was always up for it and Wanda didn't seem to believe in days off when it came to almost obsessively working on gaining complete control of her powers.

And Vision, well, it didn't matter what day of the week it was. He seemed to always be close to Wanda, if not by her side then likely somewhere in the same room, unless she was alone in her bedroom. His proximity wasn't at all off-putting or creepy, however, but instead entirely innocent and, if Summer's impressions were right, incredibly protective. He still had his own things to do, and he was soaking in the world around him with all the wonder of a child and all the intellect of a... whatever brilliant thing he was, but Wanda never seemed to be far from his thoughts.

Everyone had noticed it, and nobody had said a word, because nobody knew what would ultimately come of it. All Summer knew was that it was fricking adorable.

Something else that brought a smile to her face in that moment was watching Bucky gently but firmly guide the woman in what she assumed were various bits of hand to hand combat. She could see him talking, showing her how to block and how to hit, and she thought it was quite funny how he very stubbornly believed that even a literal _powerhouse_ of a girl still needed to know how to manually beat somebody up and had decided weeks ago to personally see to that.

They needed to leave the tower and get on the road soon, but Summer took a few moments to watch. She didn't often get a chance to see Bucky in action, let alone helping to teach someone the basics of fighting. She watched them go a few rounds, practicing the same move over and over - her trying to land a hit on him, but being too slow each time - then decided it was safe enough for her and David to stroll inside and get a better seat.

Once they had, Bucky looked up and noticed their presence while he held Wanda in a lock, having just thwarted her latest attempt again. He threw Summer a grin, then told Wanda, "See, if I was actually attacking you, I'd do this -" he twisted her arm behind her, though her lack of a pained response gave away how easy he was going on her, "and snap your arm in half. Then the other one. Which might make it hard to do all that voodoo stuff."

Summer snorted at the term, and then Wanda rolled her eyes before replying, "No, because before you even had a chance to break my arm, I would do _this_."

There was a sudden blast of red between them, and while Bucky's left arm took the brunt of it, he still flew backwards some feet and was instantly reminded of who he was dealing with when he hit the wall with a harsh thud. Summer gasped, and Wanda whipped around with wide eyes as he groaned at the unexpected impact.

"I'm sorry - I didn't mean to... hit you so hard," Wanda said, genuinely surprised. "I thought it would take more to throw you."

"Guess not," Bucky said, grimacing as he straightened up. Then he looked down at his metal arm and furrowed his brows, shifting it back and forth a bit. Summer hopped up to her feet and hurried to him.

"Are you okay?" she asked, touching the arm and noticing that the plates looked somehow different now, like they had shifted and crunched together slightly when Wanda's energy had hit them.

"Yeah," he nodded, and Summer felt his arm start vibrating under her fingertips. He was using the function that caused the vibration in the first place, which was a self-checking and repairing one, and Summer watched with ever-growing respect for Tony Stark's genius as the plates returned to their normal positions.

"I'm sorry," Wanda stated again, relieved when she saw the arm right itself.

Bucky merely shrugged and said, "Occupational hazard." Then he gestured to her hands and said, "You're getting stronger."

Summer looked at Wanda with a bit of awe, much like David did at basically all times. Then she chimed in, "Well, seeing as she _can_ stop a moving train..."

"Yeah, but I mean her concentration's better," Bucky replied before going back to addressing Wanda directly. "Next time, don't hold back."

She blinked. "But..."

"I can take it," he reminded her before turning to Summer. "What time is it?"

"Time to go," Summer replied with a small but brave smile.

Bucky paused before nodding. Then he turned to Wanda and gave her shoulder a pat and said, "You and Vision keep practicing."

Summer immediately snickered like an idiot and blurted, "I bet you don't have to tell him twice."

Everyone then stared at her with varying degrees of blankness, none more so than Vision himself, who merely replied after a moment of confused silence, "I am always willing to help in any way that I can."

"I know," Summer said quickly, feeling her face flush in mild embarrassment. "And that's totally what I meant. You're... super helpful. Especially to her. You know. In a super friendly way."

The hilarious thing was, Wanda looked almost as clueless as Vision did. Bucky merely chuckled, apparently the only one to understand why Summer was rambling, and he took her hand to lead her away after they both bade the two others goodbye.

"Real subtle," Bucky said quietly as they made their way back to the elevator.

"I just ship it so hard," Summer half-whined, half-whispered, smiling at her own stupidity. "You know what I mean?"

"Not really," Bucky admitted. "But I trust your judgement."

Summer sighed as they stood in front of the elevator and waited for the doors to open, contemplating super-powered badass chicks and guys who were actually sort of robots and how they _obviously_ made perfect matches. Then Bucky squeezed her hand and stole her attention, and she looked up to find his expression much more serious as he looked at her.

"You sure you still want to do this?" he asked her.

The not-fully-pleasant flutters in her belly briefly took Summer aback. She had been mentally preparing herself for this day for a week, and now that it was here, she wanted to equally get it over with it and run away and pretend that it didn't have to happen.

But it did have to happen. She nodded as the elevator opened, and as the three of them stepped inside, she sighed and said, "Yeah. I'm sure."

"You don't have to see him again," Bucky said, eyes still utterly sincere and serious. "You don't."

"I do, though," she shrugged, briefly holding up the folder in her hand as proof. "If I try to do this through just lawyers it'll take forever. This way is quicker and he probably won't put up a fight."

Bucky nodded, though he didn't look any happier about this idea than he had when she had initially mentioned it. "I just... if he even _tries_ to touch you..."

"Then I will tase the ever living crap out of him," Summer smiled in reply. "It's going to be fine. We're going to go to this address that Natasha so helpfully got for us, and he'll sign the papers, and then... I'll never have to think about him or see him ever again."

At least, that's how she hoped it would go. One could never be too sure how tracking down their ex and asking him to sign away his rights to a kid that he had physically forced into existence would go, but if she had to guess, Mark would be more than fine with not having to pay child support anymore. And since that monthly check was the extent of his interaction with David, it would be a win-win for all involved.

Beside her, Bucky nodded. She knew he didn't want her anywhere near Mark, but the nice thing about Bucky was that he didn't try to tell her that she couldn't do this or try to force her to stop. He respected her too much to do either of those things.

And so, neither of them looking forward to what the rest of the day held, they pressed on nonetheless and piled into a borrowed car to head four and half hours out of town, to the city that Summer had first met Bucky in. She had opened a huge chapter of her life there, and now she was going to officially and _finally_ close one that was long overdue.

* * *

As relatively brief road trips went, theirs couldn't have gone better. Bucky drove half the way there and then let Summer take over at a stop for gas, and David stayed surprisingly happy being stuck in the car for nearly five hours. Summer tortured both men with bad pop music that she claimed was absolutely necessary for long drives, then had fun batting Bucky's wandering hand away from her leg when he ended up actually liking some of the more _lively_ songs. Apparently, Justin Timberlake was just that infectious.

But, the moment that Summer drove them officially into Fall's Church city limits, her happy mood sobered a bit. She had to start paying attention to getting to the address that was scrawled on a post-it in Natasha's handwriting, while also trying to deal with all the memories that the familiar scenery brought back to her.

She drove past her old high school, past the little donut shop that she'd worked her first summer job in, and past a road that would have taken her back to her grandmother's house outside of town had it still been standing. A lot of the memories associated with the city were good, but many of them were anything but, and she recounted some of both mindlessly to Bucky along the way.

"That movie theater's where I had my first kiss," she said, gesturing to a small theater in a shopping center that they zoomed past.

Bucky glanced at the theater and then asked, "With him?"

Summer nodded. "Yeah. Unfortunately. He was my first... everything."

She wasn't sure if Bucky knew that, at least not fully. He turned to her and repeated quietly, "Everything?"

She nodded, then paused. "Well. No. You were the first to ever... uh..." She glanced back at David, who was looking around his old town out of his window with interest and with earbuds in, and she tried to think of a way to covertly get her answer across as she turned back to the road. "You know. With your..." She tapped her mouth, feeling like an idiot, but Bucky got the message.

"Yeah, I thought so. Sure seemed that way the first time."

"... Do I even want to know what that means?" she asked, fighting a cringe. That night had been so _long_ ago. Now, it felt almost like it had been another life entirely when they had still been so new to each other and too scared to do more than simply "fool around" during rare nights to themselves.

But Bucky simply smiled, glancing out to the road as he replied, "You just seemed so... surprised. And nervous. At least until... well."

She held the steering wheel a little tighter, hyper-aware of David's presence and the need to keep the conversation coded and vague, but the distraction of the talk was more than welcome at the moment. "Yeah. Well. I think I was also in shock that you still... um... knew _how_. After everything you'd been through."

"I guess some things you just don't ever forget," Bucky grinned. Summer looked at him in slight exasperation, and he briefly widened his grin before letting it slowly fall altogether.

"What?" she asked, coming to a red light. He looked like he was just now putting an equation together in his head, one that was long overdue.

"You said I was the first for _that_, but... you must have done it for him," Bucky said, voice very quiet for necessity's sake.

"Oh. Yeah. A lot, actually," she admitted, not really wanting to recall those particular memories.

"_Why_?"

She sighed and pressed the gas as the light turned green. "I don't know. I was young and stupid. And he thought that it was good enough on his part to then repay me by just..." She gestured vaguely with her fingers. "Which, by the way, he was awful at. But he said that was my fault, too."

"How could it be your fault?" Bucky asked with highly confused eyes.

She shrugged. "Because he said it worked fine for his exes. So... I guess they just... faked it? But I didn't think of that at the time. I thought I was just difficult."

A sudden, sharp laugh from Bucky stole her attention from the road for a moment. She looked at him curiously, and he merely grinned and replied, "You're _anything_ but difficult."

She smiled and looked away, fighting a blush. "Well, that's not what he thought."

Bucky was quiet for a moment before muttering, "The more you tell me about him, the more I wish I hadn't let him walk away when I met him."

"Well, he technically... crawled away, because... I'm pretty sure you broke his leg, but... yeah," Summer replied, double taking at a street sign. "Oh, here's my turn."

Turning off of the main road and on to a neighborhood street, Summer began looking for the right address on the mailboxes lining the street, silence falling once again as she crept slowly down the road and felt her anxiety return now that she was so close. Once she found the right house, she turned into the driveway and parked behind two cars that were already there.

She glanced over at Bucky as she turned off the engine, finding him quietly sweeping his eyes over the entire property and likely "scoping" it out, as he did with every place they ever went. She then reached in the backseat and grabbed her folder, then tapped David's leg. He removed the earbuds from his ears, and then she smiled and said, "I'll be right back, okay? Daddy's going to stay here with you. Hopefully I'll just be a few minutes."

David nodded, and she smiled at him before turning to Bucky, who was now staring at her quite seriously.

"You have your taser, right?" he asked quietly.

She nodded. "Yes. It's going to be fine, Bucky."

He shook his head. "But just in case..."

She nodded again. "I know. I'll be right back."

She then kissed him lightly and opened the door, taking a breath and trying to ignore the twisting in her gut as she got to her feet. She shut the car door and looked at the front of the modest house, sighing and forcing her feet to take her to the front door.

Once she was there, she rang the doorbell and waited, clutching her folder in one arm and her purse on the other. She glanced at the car, finding both pairs of eyes quietly watching her, and then the front door opened.

She looked up and was instantly surprised by the sight of Mark's father standing there. He looked as surprised to see her as she was.

"... Summer?" he asked, looking at her like she was the strangest thing he had seen all year. He was in his sixties now, a retired sheriff, but he wasn't nearly as intimidating as she remembered him being. Probably because she lived with people who actually _were_ intimidating and called them her friends.

"Um... yeah, I... hi. How are you?" she asked, not sure what to say. When Natasha had told her that Mark was living back home in Virginia and no longer in Texas, she hadn't realized that it was because he was back living with his dad.

"I'm fine, but what are you doing here?" he asked, though not unkindly.

"I, well... I've got some papers that I need Mark to sign," she said, waving the folder slightly. "It'll only take a minute. I'm not here to bother him."

The man nodded, looking down at the folder and then holding the door open for her. "Come in. I'll go get him."

"Thank you," she said, more than a little surprised by how nice he was being. Back in the day, Mark's father had considered her lower than scum following their breakup, believing that not only was she lying about how she'd gotten pregnant, but that Mark probably wasn't the father anyway. Now he just looked at her with what seemed like sadness as he ushered her inside of his home.

He led her to the living room and asked along the way, "Your boy - how old is he now?"

"Six," she replied.

"He still... have problems?" he asked a bit clumsily.

She fought the urge to roll her eyes. "He's still autistic, yeah. It's not something that goes away."

He nodded, like he immediately regretted the question, and then said, "Wait here. I'll go get Mark."

She nodded, furrowing her brow as she watched him disappear into a hallway. The only thing that seemed to explain his behavior was the idea that he had figured out that Mark had been lying to him since the start, and now he was ashamed of his son, or at least still in the process of coming to terms with what he'd done.

Summer stood there in the living room, not wanting to sit and instead looking at photos that lined a mantle above the fireplace. Most were old, and some included the mother that Mark had lost while he was still just a kid. The most striking thing was how similar Mark and David looked as children.

She was staring at one particular picture when she heard somewhat slow footsteps, and she looked up to find Mark standing in the doorway of the room, just as bewildered at her presence as his father had been.

While Summer had taken care to look her best today, Mark looked somewhere near his worst. He looked distinctly hungover, unshaved, generally unkempt, and if she wasn't mistaken, he was walking with a limp.

"The hell do you want?" he snapped, voice croaking like he had just woken up, at four in the afternoon.

"Not much," she replied quietly, a bit shocked at his appearance. "I, uh... just have some papers here."

"Papers," he muttered, dragging himself further into the room before stopping and asking her suspiciously, "You alone?"

She shook her head. "He's outside with David."

She didn't need to say Bucky's name for Mark to know who she was referring to. She also didn't miss the brief glint of fear that passed through his eyes.

"Right. Of course. So what kind of papers are these? I've been sending you a check on time every month."

"I know. But I don't need you to do that anymore," she said, handing him the folder. Gathering her courage, she added, "I'm getting married soon, and he's adopting David, so... you can finally... be free of us."

She watched as Mark opened the folder, stared down at the papers, and then looked up at her in disbelief. "You want me to sign away my rights?"

She shrugged. "You don't have a relationship with him anyway. Now you can save some money every month and he gets to have my new last name. Everybody wins."

Just like she had feared, Mark shook his head and then snapped the folder shut, then thrusted it back to her. "No. Hell no."

She took the folder back and asked in exasperation, "_Why_?"

"Because," Mark muttered, looking away from her to the floor.

"That's not an answer," she pointed out.

Then he looked up at her defiantly and said, "Fine, you want an answer? How about I can't have kids anymore because of what your psycho boyfriend did to me, and David's the only one I'll ever have?"

For a very short moment, Summer was speechless. She hadn't seen that one coming, although... now that she thought of it... it certainly made sense. "Oh."

"Yeah, _oh_," he mocked.

"Well... that sucks for you, but it doesn't change anything," she replied bluntly. "I'm never going to let you in his life and you've never shown interest anyway."

"Except for when I showed up at your house and got beaten half to death because of it," he replied.

"Don't put that on me," she shook her head. "I gave you chance after chance when he was first born, even though I didn't want to, and you ran every single time."

"I was young, I was stupid," Mark muttered, rubbing his eyes.

"Yeah? And what are you now? I thought you were making 'big money' in Texas," she said, using air quotes. "Now you're living back home with your dad and wake up hungover at four in the afternoon?"

"You have no idea what I've been through," Mark said, refusing to look at her at this point.

"Maybe not, but that's not why I'm here anyway," she sighed. "I just... I want to be done with this. Forever. You hate me, I hate you. We'll never get along, and you've never wanted to be David's father. But he has a good one now, and -"

Mark snorted out a heavily sarcastic laugh. "Really? _He's_ a good father? Last time I checked he was a killer on the run from the government."

"And you're an abusive loser who raped his girlfriend and then blamed her for it," she shot back.

Rather than dispute this, Mark simply raised his eyebrows and said, "Yeah, you sure know how to pick 'em, don't you?"

_Now_ she was getting angry. She knew that she shouldn't let him goad her into fighting or a shouting match that would get them nowhere, but he had just belittled her _and_ her fiancé in one sentence.

"You don't know him. You don't know me. Don't act like you do," she said. "Just sign the papers so I never have to see your face again."

"Or I could call the cops and they could come and arrest him," Mark said, a despicable smirk on his face. "I bet there's a big reward for bringing in the Winter Soldier. And then they'd probably give me custody of David and lock you up for being an accomplice."

For one fleeting but terrifyingly dark moment, it was as if she was nineteen again and at the mercy of the very same man who had ripped her innocence away at that same age. He saw the fear in her eyes and let his smile widen, and she let the fear turn her very bones cold until she very consciously decided that she was _not_ going to let this happen again.

She had been through too much and overcome too many obstacles to let this speck of a man get away with even idle threats. He didn't get to scare her or hurt her anymore, and her true reaction to his threat came without so much as a second thought or a moment's hesitation.

She tossed the papers down into an armchair and then reached into her purse, grabbed her taser, then dropped her purse to the floor. Then she closed the distance between herself and Mark, grabbed him by the collar of the ratty old shirt he was wearing, and slammed him harshly against the wall as she pressed the weapon to the crook of his neck.

The look of terror and pure shock in his eyes was something she'd never forget or cease to be utterly tickled about.

"Go ahead," she said, her voice sounding strange to her own ears for how suddenly _terrifying_ it sounded. "Threaten us again, I dare you."

"What the f-"

She jabbed him harder with the taser, shutting him up, then said, "You say you've been through a lot, but I guarantee you, it's nothing compared to the last year and a half of my life. I am _not_ the girl you remember me being, and I do _not_ have time for this. Either sign the papers or don't. But don't think for a minute that I'm gonna let you threaten me or my family, or try to scare me into doing what you want. It's not going to work anymore."

"You're crazy," he said with wide eyes.

She paused, staring at him and truly seeing for once what and who he really was. He was a coward, like all men who did the things that he did, and he would likely die a coward.

"No, not crazy. Just finally not scared of you anymore," she said quietly, releasing him with a shove that she hoped hurt at least a little.

Her heart was racing, adrenaline pumping, sort of like it had the time that she had beaten up a HYDRA operative with a riding crop, but this time was so much better due to the sheer emotional relief of facing this man and finally winning. Whether or not he signed the papers, she had still accomplished something very real, and as it turned out, Bucky had walked inside the house just in time to see it all unfold himself.

She glanced towards the front door, saw Bucky standing there holding David's hand and covering his eyes with the other, surely just in case Mark did end up getting tasered. Her eyes met Bucky's, and the look of sheer pride there made her spirits soar as she stepped away from Mark and picked the papers back up.

She handed them to Mark, and with a steady, fearless voice, told him, "Sign the damn papers."

She was sure of one thing: she should have done this _ages_ ago.

* * *

Bucky had begun to get nervous in the car as the minutes that Summer spent inside the house had dragged on. He'd tapped his fingers on his leg impatiently, watching the clock with a fierce concentration, debating how long "too long" was and how long he was willing to sit there and wait for her.

It wasn't that he doubted her ability to handle herself. He just didn't trust Mark not to do something stupid, and if he did, he didn't want Summer to have to deal with it alone.

So, when he had decided that she had been there too long, he grabbed David and headed inside. He hadn't expected to walk in and find Summer holding Mark against a wall, brandishing her weapon at his neck, threatening him with a tone that he'd never heard come out of her mouth before. Not only was she handling it, she was handling it _damn_ well, and Bucky was instantly overcome with a mixture of pride and admiration for her.

This time, his presence wasn't necessary to put the fear of God into Mark.

Once Summer let go and looked at Bucky, allowing him to tell her how incredible he thought she was with his eyes rather than his words, she handed the papers back to Mark and told him to sign them. Mark then looked back and forth from Summer to Bucky, as if he couldn't tell who he was more scared of, but then his eyes fell to David, who was still clutching Bucky's hand and was now watching the scene unfold with curious eyes.

Mark stared at David silently for what felt like an eternity. Bucky glanced at Summer, who was quiet now and simply waiting, and then he looked at David, who didn't know that he was in the presence of his biological father.

They really did look a lot alike, and there was no denying that. But that was where their similarities ended.

Mark's gaze moved from David's face to his hand, small and engulfed within Bucky's larger one, and then he tore his eyes away, almost as if he couldn't stand to look anymore. Then he looked at Summer again, but only for a moment before he looked down at the folder in his hands.

He looked at it like it was both everything he wanted and the last thing he'd ever want. There was a long moment where he did nothing, but then finally, he threw it open and again and muttered, "Fine."

Bucky's eyes flew to Summer, who was instantly overcome with relief. Mark flipped through the pages, grabbing a pen that was inside the folder, then quickly signing in all the necessary places. Once it was done, he snapped the folder shut and handed it back to Summer, then muttered, "Now can all of you please get out of my house."

Summer nodded, turning and not looking back once. "Thank you."

Mark ignored her, once again staring at David, who was staring back just as intently. Once Summer was at their side, Bucky gave David's hand a gentle tug and turned him back towards the door, breaking the eye contact.

Bucky looked back at Mark as Summer opened the door, just long and threateningly enough to watch his already-pallid face pale. Then he followed Summer out the door, leaving the man in the past where he belonged.

Summer's shoulders relaxed as soon as they were out of the house and the door was closed behind him. "Oh, thank God that's over. I didn't think he was going to sign."

Before Bucky could reply, David let go of his hand in order to look up at Summer and start asking her questions with his hands as they walked to the car. Summer paused, watching his motions carefully, and then she frowned before crouching down to David's level, just beside the backseat door of the car.

"Do you remember how I told you a long time ago that your father was a bad man, and because he was bad, we didn't talk to him or see him?" she asked gently. David nodded, and she went on, "Well... that was him."

Bucky watched David's eyes widen, and Summer kept talking. "I needed to have him sign some stuff, because if he didn't... then Bucky - Daddy - wouldn't be able to adopt you."

David's eyes got even bigger, and he signed back the word _adopt_ questioningly.

Summer smiled and nodded. "Yeah. So when we get married, you'll have his last name, just like I will. Nobody will ever be able to tell you that he isn't your Daddy."

At this, David beamed and then looked up at Bucky excitedly before throwing himself at him in a big hug. Summer laughed at his reaction, then smiled warmly at the affection on Bucky's face as he hugged the kid back.

None of them noticed Mark watching from a window, phone in hand ready to dial the police but stopping when he saw the family's happy little moment unfold. Instead of calling the cops just like he had threatened, he ended up throwing the phone across the room and breaking it, then turning away from the window with long-repressed shame and guilt clawing its way to the surface and replacing his more vindictive urges. He then headed for the liquor cabinet while Summer got her boys loaded back into the car, then got behind the wheel with a stubborn smile on her face.

Bucky held her free hand in his as she got them back on the road, still grinning and catching his gaze as they cruised back on to the highway.

"What?" She asked, though she had to very well know _what_.

"You're incredible," he told her with the utmost sincerity. Somehow, she managed to smile even more.

"Yeah... that felt pretty good, not gonna lie," she said, turning back to the road. "Kinda proud of myself at the moment."

"You should be," he replied. "And I'm proud of you, too."

She flashed him another smile, then took a centering breath before deciding, "Okay. Now that we've got _that_ squared away and everything is awesome... we need to set a date. And plan this wedding. And figure out where we're going to actually do it, and how." She then paused and added, "And colors! What are our colors going to be?!"

He chuckled at her sudden change in subject, then spent the next few hours fielding questions ranging from what kind of icing he liked best to what colors he was _not_ okay with. All in all, it was a very good day, and Bucky was glad that Summer had the courage to make it happen. Now there was one less obstacle in their way to making their little family official.

But, he quickly and understandably decided, he'd leave all the wedding planning stuff to her.

* * *

Before they left Fall's Church, Summer dealt herself one more emotional challenge and drove to where her grandmother's house had once stood. She had gone back and forth in her head for a bit before deciding to just do it, mostly for closure's sake rather than anything else. They didn't stay there long, mainly because the sight of the empty property nearly ruined David's good mood and set him on edge, but Summer was ultimately glad that she had done it.

That land was another piece of her past, a big one, and a living reminder of how HYDRA had personally touched her life in a way that she had never wanted. It had been collateral damage of her decisions, but it had unwittingly pushed her into her future and ultimately helped her to grow. The house had been her comfort zone and a place that she had been terrified to leave, but once she had, it was almost as if her life had _bloomed_ and begun to thrive, in every way possible. She still hated the bastards for dropping the bomb on her house, of course, and she always would, but she could now be proud that she hadn't let it hold her or David back.

They had both come so far, and so had Bucky, even more so. She drove over the Virginia border with a smile on her face, leaving the past behind her in more ways than one.

They stopped for dinner on the way home, at a little cafe outside of some small town, and as they ate, an idea had sprung in Summer's mind. She asked Bucky to make a phone call, and after he obliged, she was incredibly excited to make a very welcomed detour on their way home. The road trip just kept getting better and better.

Bucky then took over driving for the remainder of the night, and some hours later, they found themselves in Pennsylvania, driving a familiar road in the middle of nowhere to a farm that technically didn't exist.

It had felt like ages since they had been at Clint's farm, or even seen Clint at all, and as soon as the previously sleepy David had recognized the dirt road that led to the farm, he was suddenly wide awake and sign-babbling the rest of the way there.

Upon arrival, Summer got out of the car and immediately felt a bit homesick. The farm truly was a home, and no tower, no matter how nice and awesomely designed, could measure up. That was just the way it was, and Summer was already sad to leave the place even though she hadn't even walked inside yet.

As Bucky got David out of the car, Summer smiled to herself and watched Clint open the front door and start heading their way, under the clear night sky.

"And here I thought my open invitation to visit whenever was just gonna be politely ignored," Clint said as David ran past both Bucky and Summer towards the place.

"Well, we were in the neighborhood," Summer smiled, meeting Clint at the bottom of his porch steps. "And since you never seem to be in _ours_ much..."

"Yeah, right. You're just here for the farm, not for me, let's be honest," Clint shrugged, throwing Summer a brief one-armed hug just as David bounded up the steps and ran inside.

"Oh wow, I'm sorry. David's a little too excited about spending the night here," Summer explained, but Clint shrugged off her concern.

"He can knock himself out. So," he glanced at Bucky and then back at Summer, "I hear he finally put a ring on it."

Bucky rolled his eyes while Summer beamed and held up her hand in confirmation. "Yup! He liked it so he put a ring on it."

"I'd break out into my legendary impression of that Beyoncé dance but I think I'll save it for the wedding," Clint said. "Assuming I'm invited."

"Definitely not," Bucky deadpanned.

"Oh yeah? Then no freeloaders," Clint shot back. "The kid can stay, though. Give me a week and I'll have him shooting arrows better than you can."

Bucky scoffed. "I'll teach him to fight way before you ever get a bow in his hands."

"Yeah, we'll see about that."

Summer looked back and forth between the two men and then said, "Are you guys seriously arguing about how to train my kid to fight, like, bad guys?"

"He's in school now, right?" Clint asked, and Summer nodded. "Well, then, we should make him a nightmare for bullies."

Her eyes widened. "Oh dear God."

Clint chuckled, then invited them inside as Summer envisioned David turning into a ridiculously cute pint-sized schoolyard Avenger. Then, once they were inside the home, Summer looked around and smiled softly at how it looked just the same as she remembered it.

"Oh man," she sighed as Bucky closed the door behind her. "I've missed the crap out of this place."

"Yeah, well... just stay out of the barn," Clint said, eyeing them both knowingly. "That's all I ask."

"Can't imagine why," Bucky said, following Clint as he led them into the living room, where David already was. He was currently crouched down in front of a couch, peering under it, where a cat was hiding and staring at him suspiciously.

"Not at all. So, set a date yet?" Clint asked as they all sat down, making sure not to accidentally step on David in the process.

"Not yet," Summer admitted, "But we agreed on six months a week ago, so... we've got a general time in mind. Not much else though. I can't even decide on a theme, and planning that kind of thing is what I do for a living now."

"Can't be that hard," Clint said, kicking back with his foot on the coffee table between them. "Do you know _where_ you're doing it?"

Summer shook her head a bit sadly. "No clue. I mean... no to the tower. A church would be okay, but I'm a little too Jewish for that, and I'd rather have it outside anyway. I just don't know where. Like maybe a beach but... eh. I just... want something different. Less cliched. More... home-y, maybe?"

Though Summer was pretty sure that she was making zero sense, Clint apparently understood what she was saying.

"So in other words, you want a farm wedding," he deducted. "All you've gotta do is ask, you know."

Summer froze and stared at the archer as if a light bulb had suddenly appeared over her head and flickered on in as a result of his sheer brilliance. "Oh. My God." She turned to Bucky with wide eyes. "Please say you're okay with that idea because I just fell in love with it."

"I... sure," Bucky shrugged. Then his eyes widened as she squealed in reply and then turned back to Clint to squeal at him, too.

"So we can do it here? Are you sure? Because it would be perfect and so cute and I've been on Pinterest so much and I've really liked vintage stuff I've seen on there and oh my God, a vintage farm wedding would be so incredibly pretty and cute and..."

Clint glanced at Bucky, both of them amused and a little scared of her at the moment, then said, "Yeah, I'm sure."

She then squealed again, and the cat that David had been trying to coax out from under the couch suddenly came dashing out, like she had scared it to death. David went after it as Summer gushed, "Thank you _so_ much. This is gonna be great!"

"Who's gonna marry you guys?" Clint then asked, as Summer whipped out her phone to start immediately looking up farm wedding things.

"Oh, you mean like a minister? No clue," Summer admitted.

"Just wondering, because I'm certified," Clint mentioned casually.

She blinked. "You're a _minister_?"

He shrugged. "I've had some weird covers. But yes."

"... Then that's perfect!" she exclaimed, accidentally tossing her phone across the couch and behind a pillow in the process. She scrambled to retrieve it, and then upon sticking her hand behind the pillow, pulled out something very different from a phone.

"Um..." Summer stared at the very pretty, lacy red bra dangling from her fingertips, then looked at Clint in confusion.

"Oh, that's where that went," he said, getting up and snatching it out of her hand. "I'll take that."

He then headed off, presumably to throw the thing in his bedroom, and Summer glanced at Bucky with an intensely curious expression. "... Think he's got a secret girlfriend?"

"Either that or it's his," Bucky shrugged.

Summer paused. "Probably a girlfriend, then."

When Clint came back, Summer initiated her interrogation. "Who's the girl?"

"Nobody you know," he replied evenly.

"So there's a girl?"

"What, you think it's mine?" he asked. "No matter what Nat's told you about Panama, I don't cross dress unless I actually have to."

Summer furrowed her brows. "The frick happened in Panama?"

Clint merely remained utterly deadpan and then changed the subject. "Let me know once you set a date, so I know which day to plan for. And you're not planning on a big thing with tons of people, right?"

"Oh no," Summer shook her head. "Very tight knit. Only people in 'the circle'."

He nodded. "Good."

She nodded back. Then, after a beat of silence, she said, "So, about the girl..."

He stood up and then deflected, "I made blackberry crumble earlier. Want some?"

Summer grinned and nodded, and after he left the room, leaned back against the couch and said, "Well, he's awfully secretive."

"I don't blame him," Bucky shrugged.

She looked at him and then cautiously asked, "You sure you're okay with getting married here?"

He nodded and smiled. "Yeah. As long as it's what you want."

"I think it is. It sounds perfect," she grinned happily. "I'm so excited."

She then squealed again, and he couldn't help but pull her closer for a moment and give her a quick little kiss before she started tearing her phone apart again. She truly was incredibly excited, even more so now that the adoption issue had been squared away, and now it was hopefully time for the fun stuff: dress shopping, decoration design, and everything else that made planning a wedding one of the most stressfully fun life experiences.

And she even had an Avenger for a minister, not mention one for a groom, plus a maid of honor. Her inner fangirl was _screaming_. 

* * *

Later that night, after David had gone to bed in his old room, Bucky found Summer not inside the room they were taking for the night but instead sitting outside, on the porch steps, staring happily but thoughtfully out into the night. He quietly sat next to her, nudging her shoulder gently with his and catching her attention.

She smiled at him. "Hey."

"Hey," he said back. "Thought you'd be tired."

"I am," she said lightly. "Just thinking."

"About what?" he asked, watching her eyes drift upwards to the stars above them. They shined much brighter out here than they did back in the city, that was for sure.

"Just... things. Wedding things. Marriage things. Life things."

"Is that all?" he joked, and she chuckled.

"Well... being here and seeing where my old house used to be just has me thinking. Like... well... how long do you want to live at the tower?" she asked him, and he could see slight anxiety in her body language as she asked him this.

"I'm not sure," he answered truthfully. "Do you not want to live there?"

"Not forever," she admitted. "I mean, I like it there and everything, but... it's not a home. _This_ is a home. I want something like this eventually. Not a farm necessarily, but... a house, tucked away somewhere private, where we can have some animals and David can play outside... stuff like that."

"So you want your old house back," he deducted, and she smiled a bit sadly in reply.

"Yeah. Sometimes I really do."

He looked at the wistful, slightly longing look in her eye, and he again cursed the day that he had been stupid enough to lead HYDRA to that house. He wished that he could take it back and that she and David had never had to go through having that house utterly destroyed with them just barely outside of it.

If he could, he'd rebuild it for her himself.

And then, suddenly, it was _his_ turn to have a light bulb flicker to life above his head.

Slowly, he turned to her and asked quietly, "You still own that land, right?" She nodded, looking at him curiously. He then added, "What if we... one day... built a new house there?"

Clearly, the idea had never even crossed her mind before that moment. Her eyebrows moved up her forehead and she blinked a few times, the wheels turning in her head.

"Would you want that, though?" she asked carefully. "I mean, our work is both in New York."

"Well, mine's sort of... everywhere," he pointed out. "It's just an idea, but... I want you to be happy. And if a real house is what you want, I think it would make sense to have one there."

"It would," she agreed, a small smile touching her face. "And it would mean a lot to me. It would also be pretty expensive, but... if we saved up for it..." Her smile widened. "You know, maybe it could actually work."

He smiled back and tucked her hair behind her ear. "I think it could. And you're right... we can't live in a tower forever."

She nodded in agreement. "No, we can't. Especially if we end up having a few new little people running around."

The sweet smile that she gave him was completely disarming. It was all he could do to grin back and say, "Yeah. Good point."

She giggled quietly and then laid her head on his shoulder, eyes open and staring into the distance as he kissed the top of her head. "Sometimes I still can't believe we're really doing this. I mean, you're adopting my kid for sure now, and we're getting married and we might have babies, and now we might build our own house? Just _whoa."_

"Don't get cold feet on me," he teased.

"Oh definitely not. My feet are very warm. Except right now they're actually kind of cold. Literally. Like, would you be opposed to taking a bath before we go to bed? In that really big one upstairs?"

He looked at her incredulously, like she was insane for even asking such a silly question. "Let me think about that. Do I want to you be wet and naked in my lap, in a bathtub... I'm not sure, maybe not..."

She playfully swatted him on the shoulder, a silly smile on her face, and he retaliated by pulling her closer and kissing her as if they were already wet and naked and in the aforementioned bathtub. He didn't let up until she mewled softly into the kiss, fingers sliding into his hair and holding him closer as the kiss grew deeper.

"Getting warmer yet?" he asked, breaking away for a quick breath before she grinned and pulled him back, answering him with a nod.

Then there was suddenly a very bright and unexpected light on them, coming from somewhere up on the second story, and they broke apart to look up and squint against the light to find Clint holding a rather large flashlight and standing on the balcony directly above them.

"I take back what I said earlier," Clint called down. "No banging in the barn _or_ on my porch. _That's_ all I ask for."

"You know," Bucky shot back, "if you want to watch that bad, all you have to do is ask, instead of sneaking around with a flashlight."

Clint made a face dripping with sarcasm and then scoffed. "Don't flatter yourself, Frosty."

He then left the balcony and headed back into his room, whistling, and Summer looked at Bucky and asked with a confused grin, "Did he just call you Frosty? Like Frosty the Snowman?" She paused. "He's no Tony Stark when it comes to nicknames."

Bucky shrugged, then helped her up to her feet before suggesting, "Bathtub?"

"Bathtub," she confirmed with a grin, and then they were hurrying inside and up the stairs, trying to stay quiet but laughing and giggling like idiots who were far younger than they really were.

Bucky had missed the farm too, but he hadn't realized it until he had stepped foot upon it again. While no place really felt like home, mostly because he wasn't totally sure what that concept really felt like to begin with, he was starting to think that his home was simply wherever his family was.

And having a family again was every bit as unexpected as having a home. He would never take either for granted, or ever forget what it was like to have neither.

**A/N: I apologize for the late update, but real life greatly delayed my writing this last week. Also, this chapter is a bit shorter than usual, but... I guess every single one can't be a 14k-er :p Thank you guys so much for your continuing support, reviews, follows, lurking, whatever the case may be. I LOVE YOU ALL and I've got some goooooood stuff coming up, including what will probably end up being my single biggest action scene ever in the next chapter, so... yeah, little teaser there lol. Hopefully next week I get the next update out on my usual Monday, but if not, like this week, don't worry, because it'll still pop up :D Love to you all, including the ever-amazing midnightwings96, and I shall see you all next week! :)**

***update 7/3/15 lol* I just today noticed the weird formatting with the random underlines in this chapter, which I definitely did NOT put there myself, so I guess some of the regular italics translated into underlines somehow during the upload process lol. Sorry about that, and I think I fixed it all, but if not... just ignore it please :) **


	37. Chapter 37

Several weeks later, mid-morning inside Natasha's bedroom at Avengers Tower, Summer was longing for the days where figuring out how to competently strip off a bra was her main source of angst. That was _nothing_ compared to what she was facing now.

Decked out in lingerie, high heels, and not much else, Summer stood in front of a seated Natasha who was as impressively passive yet amused as ever. Summer's chosen music played softly in the background, a lively, sexy tune, and when Nat motioned for Summer to get on with it, Summer couldn't help it - she burst out laughing, and she continued laughing until she cried.

Thankfully, Natasha laughed with her, and reached over to her iPod to pause the song as Summer wiped away her giddy tears. "You know, I had a feeling this part would take awhile."

"I'm sorry," Summer giggled, trying to stop the stupid laughs. "I just... this is hilarious."

"Yes, but when you're doing it for real, you won't feel that way," Natasha pointed out with a grin. "Now, you had your giggles. Put them away and let's get to it."

"Right," Summer sighed. "Okay. Lap dancing time."

Natasha nodded. "Lap dancing time. Just try to do what I showed you, and I'll help you get it right."

Summer nodded, taking a breath and willing her slightly nervous giggles to go away. They'd been practicing this dance and the different parts of it for weeks now, but this was the first time they had focused on _this_ part. It seemed like one of the easier parts, at least in theory, but actually taking the leap and giving Natasha a very amateur lap dance... it was taking all of Summer's will to not start laughing again.

Instead, Natasha restarted the song, and Summer very consciously told her brain to shut up as she bit the bullet and got on with it. The first part was easy: sauntering to Natasha. They'd been working on her saunter, and it was definitely much better than the awkward penguin-walk Summer had first come up with. She still felt a little silly, but weeks of practicing had gone a long way in helping her feel more comfortable.

At least until now. But it didn't matter. When Summer reached Natasha in her seat, she bit back another wave of giggles and straddled her, though not as smoothly as she would have liked. But _whatever_. That's why this was practice.

Then she closed her eyes - because looking at Natasha would have just made her more nervous for some reason - and then she started circling her hips, slowly moving down towards the other woman's lap as she did.

"Okay, not bad, but try to move your hips a _little_ more," Natasha said, helpfully moving her hands to Summer's hips to guide them. "Like this."

"Oh okay," Summer said, nodding and looking down to watch herself move. Then once Natasha pulled her hands away, Summer continued on a bit on her own and then asked, "Better?"

"Yeah, that's better," Natasha confirmed. "Keep it up."

"Okay," Summer replied, feeling much less stupid now that she was actually doing it. She always made things out to be far worse in her head than they ended up being in reality, and this was no exception. In fact, after awhile, it was almost kind of fun.

Then she lifted off of Natasha's lap and turned around, then swung her leg back over her lap and moved back on top of it, this time with her back to Natasha's front. She did the same thing as before, circling her hips and slowly working her way down, feeling a bit more confident this time, and once she was seated in Natasha's lap, Natasha went back into teacher mode.

"This part's important," she said, hands back on Summer's hips, "You want to grind down hard enough for him to feel it, but not _too_ hard. You're still teasing him. And it won't take much to drive him crazy, so... do it like this."

Summer soaked up the instructions like a sponge, grateful for the hands-on method of teaching that Nat favored, and she never would have thought that grinding on her friend's lap while said friend held her hips and guided them could feel so _not_ weird and actually totally comfortable.

In fact, she felt so at ease that it only made it even worse when the door to the bedroom then opened, and of all the people in the world who could have barged in at that moment, it ended up being Steve who walked in and got quite the eyeful.

Summer looked up and promptly screamed and squealed at the same time, while Steve froze in his tracks and let his jaw drop and eyes nearly pop out of his head. Summer then leapt off of Natasha's lap, trying to cover herself with her arms and mostly failing, ending up hastily grabbing a sheet from the bed and dragging it over herself as Steve stood there gaping like the most confused fish in the world.

Natasha merely sighed, undoubtedly feeling like the lone adult in a roomful of bewildered children.

"... What the hell?!" Steve asked, face as red as Summer's was, clearly having issues logically processing having walked in on his best friend's fiancée grinding half naked on his girlfriend's lap.

Summer covered up her face with the bedsheet and let out a noise similar to that of a dying cat. Oh, the humiliation.

"Relax, Steve," Natasha said nonchalantly, still sitting in her chair. "This is for Bucky."

Summer peeked up from behind the sheet only to watch Steve's confusion merely deepen.

He blinked and then squinted. "... _What_?"

Natasha sighed again, then stood up and gestured to Summer huddled on the floor. "I'm teaching her a burlesque routine for her wedding night. She's surprising him with it. Now shut the door before he walks by and the surprise is ruined."

Slowly, Steve's face became less confused and more understanding, but the blush never left his cheeks. "_Oh_. Oh. Okay. That... uh... makes sense. I guess."

He closed the door, and Natasha scolded him, "She was doing great until you barged in."

"Sorry," he shrugged, looking at Summer and then looking away, as if the image of her in her lingerie mid-lap dance was forever burned into his memory. "You, uh... you looked great, though." He then cringed and winced, closing his eyes, and Summer dropped her face into her hands.

"Thanks," she mumbled into her palms.

"Okay," Natasha said with a smile, looking from Steve from Summer. "How about we all take a moment, breathe, and act like mature adults for once?"

"I, yeah, you know, I'll just leave," Steve shrugged, going for the door like it was his personal savior.

"Actually, wait," Nat said, swiftly walking to him and taking him by his shoulders. She then turned him around and led him to the chair, pushed him down to sit on it with a thud, then turned her gaze back to Summer. "Here, let me demonstrate that last part for you."

Summer's eyes widened. So did Steve's.

"Uh... Nat?" he asked in a small, somewhat terrified voice, glancing over at Summer nervously.

"Just sit still," Natasha instructed him, turning around so that her back was to him. "That's literally all you have to do. Just sit."

"But-"

Steve's voice was then paralyzed in his throat, because Natasha sank into his lap and gave Summer a firsthand look in how to properly drive a man crazy by grinding down teasingly firmly in his lap. Summer watched carefully, with a face the color of roughly Natasha's hair, and she was so embarrassed and also enthralled by watching the pro at work that she almost missed the way that Steve was trying not to squirm and simply expire of his own awkwardness and apparently very quickly growing frustration.

And then, because it was simply the way that the universe seemed to work, the door opened again, and this time, it was Tony who came strolling inside. Summer barely had time to wonder why everybody apparently felt so comfortable just strolling into Natasha's freaking bedroom.

All three pairs of eyes flew to the door, and Natasha stopped dancing with an impatient sigh as Tony immediately froze where he stood. Slowly, and extremely carefully, he looked from Steve's ridiculously flushed face to Natasha's annoyed face and the way that she was seated on his lap mid-dance, and then he glanced at Summer, clutching the sheet like it was a lifeline and watching from the floor with a blush to rival Steve's.

"... I don't even want to know the story here," Tony finally said, shrugging slightly. "Because I'm pretty sure that it's nowhere near as good as the ones I'm imagining right now."

Carefully, Steve then snapped out of his daze and gently eased Natasha out of his lap. "I'm just gonna... go... now."

"Okay, I lied," Tony said, moving to stand in Steve's way so that he couldn't leave. "I do want to know the story. Somebody spill it."

"It's not..." Steve sighed and muttered, "it's not what it looks like. It's for Bucky."

Tony's brows flew up his forehead. "Whoa, Cap. I knew you guys were close, but not _that_ close."

Summer leaned back against the bed and closed her eyes in pure exasperation. It kept getting worse.

"What he means to say is that I'm teaching Summer how to dance for Bucky," Natasha explained evenly, ever the voice of reason. "And Steve wandered in here, so I used him for a demonstration."

Tony visibly deflated a bit. "Oh. Definitely better in my head, then. As always."

Natasha nodded. "Yes. Now if you boys wouldn't mind leaving," she said with false sweetness, "I've got work to do with Summer. And if either of you barge in here again - this counts for you too, Steve - I will make sure you walk with a limp for at least a week."

While Steve bolted out the door, Tony lingered at it and flashed Nat a smile. "Don't threaten me with a good time."

Natasha smiled back in a way that would have made anyone else run away in terror. "And one word to Barnes and I'll tell Pepper all about that thing you don't want her to know about."

Tony's smile immediately faded. "I apologize for my intrusion. I'll be on my way now. And I saw nothing."

Then he was gone, and Natasha locked the door after him to prevent any other potential intrusions. Summer was still sitting on the floor, trying to recover her dignity, and as soon as Natasha turned back to her with a highly annoyed expression, Summer asked, "What does he not want Pepper to know?"

"Let's just say your wedding is probably only the first of several that'll be happening fairly soon," Natasha explained with a small smile. "Ready to get back to work?"

She offered her hand to Summer, who took it and carefully made her way back to her feet. "Yeah... now that I've prayed for the floor to open up and swallow me about ten times."

"Sorry," Natasha told her sincerely. "It won't happen again. Let's just... forget that ever happened and get back to it, okay?"

Summer nodded, reluctantly setting the sheet down back on the bed. "Okay. Although I'm never gonna be able to forget watching you give Steve a lap dance. Just... yeah, no."

Natasha grinned and then turned, sitting back down on the chair. "Well, you know what they say. Show, don't tell."

Summer sighed and nodded. "Yeah, yeah. _Good Lord_."

Natasha chuckled, and as the girls resumed their morning training session, outside in the kitchen area, Steve was still red-faced and making his way back to his own room when he turned the corner to the hallway and smacked into Bucky, who was coming the way that he was going.

"Sorry," Steve said, pausing and running a hand through his hair, pretending to be completely at ease as Bucky looked him over.

"Hey," Bucky said, narrowing his eyes slightly at Steve's obvious distress but asking casually, "Have you seen Summer?"

"Y- no," Steve shook his head, a little bit too hard. "Nope. Haven't seen her all day."

Bucky's eyes narrowed even more, clearly noticing how weird and uncomfortable Steve was acting despite his best efforts. "Well, it's only nine, so..."

Steve nodded, gulping a bit for good measure. All these years later and he was still the world's worst liar. "I'm sure she's around here somewhere."

Bucky nodded back, then asked, "Why do you look like you just walked in someone having sex?"

Steve groaned and rubbed his eyes, trying with all of his might to think up a good excuse, and then suddenly Tony was there, slinging an arm around his shoulders and chiming in, "Maybe he just got done _having_ it."

Then Tony winked, and both Steve and Bucky made the exact same face of mild distaste as Steve smacked his arm away. "No thanks, Tony. I'm gonna go take a shower."

He then all but sprinted down the hallway, still cringing to himself and cursing at his own stupidity, leaving Tony to simply shrug and then ask Bucky, "Am I just not his type? What am I doing wrong here?"

Bucky merely gave him a look like he hadn't had nearly enough coffee yet to deal with this crap yet, and then he stepped around Tony to make his way into the kitchen. All the while, he wondered why everyone was already acting so _weird_ this morning.

If he only knew.

* * *

That morning was only the beginning to an eventful day, and one that Summer had been looking forward to for quite awhile. When the afternoon arrived, it was time for her to experience one of the most important parts of wedding preparation: trying on wedding dresses.

Planning the day ended up being nothing short of tedious, but in the end, it all came together surprisingly well. David stayed at the tower with Wanda while Summer, Natasha, Steve, and Bucky all headed out to the city. Darcy tagged along with the girls and Sam also did with the guys, and the plan was that once they reached the dress shop, the group would split up and the men would head to a menswear shop a few blocks away while the girls entered bridal hell. Summer happened to have a surprise for Bucky once they got there.

"Have fun," Bucky said, eyeing the front of the bridal shop a bit warily and then turning to give Summer a peck on the lips.

"Thanks," she grinned, holding his hand and keeping him from leaving just yet. "Hang on, you can't leave yet."

"Why?" he asked curiously, watching her check her phone and then look around the block.

"Well, because I asked someone to be here, and they haven't shown up yet, so..."

"Who?" Bucky asked, eyes narrowed in confusion.

Summer then caught a glimpse of two heads, one with black hair and one with brown curls, and she broke into a grin and waved. The two men waved back happily, and when Bucky turned to see who it was, he paused and then glanced back to Summer to ask cautiously, "They're here for you... right?"

"Nope," she smiled sweetly.

Next to Bucky, Steve laughed and said, "Oh, it's the guys who bought a date with me."

"Which was actually a double date with the four of us," Natasha reminded him. "It was fun. We should do it again sometime."

"Well," Summer shrugged towards Bucky and Steve, "it's not that I don't trust your tastes, but..."

"Hey, what am I, chopped liver?" Sam asked, feigning offense. "I've got style. I wasn't gonna let your man pick something gross to wear."

"Oh I know," Summer quickly nodded, "but still..."

"Hello, hello!" Esteban interrupted happily upon arrival, flashing his charming smile to the whole group and giving Summer a quick hug. "Sorry we're late - we got held up at work. Well, _he_ got held up at work."

Nicolo at his side shrugged to the affirmative and smiled with his rather appealing Italian accent, "I was shooting a newborn's first pictures, and you know how babies can be. Crying, crying, crying, then two minutes of good shots, then more crying."

"It's totally okay," Summer assured them. "Thanks for coming! I'm just glad you're both here."

"Oh please," Esteban waved her off, leaning in and dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "_Like we would pass up the chance to help with your Avenger wedding_. Name the time and place and we are there."

Summer smiled excitedly, and Darcy watched with great amusement before asking, "Hey, Bradley Cooper, did you say you were a photographer?"

Nicolo looked slightly confused and it took him a moment of glancing around before he realized she was referring to him. "Oh, me! Yes, yes I am."

"A really good one," Esteban grinned. "Even if he does use Photoshop too much." That earned him an elbow to the ribs, which he laughed off.

"Oh, sweet, because she still needs one of those," Darcy said, gesturing to Summer. "And since you're already in the loop..."

"Oh, of course! I would be happy to photograph your wedding!" Nicolo quickly nodded, even as Summer was already preparing to babble.

"You don't _have_ to, though," she shook her head. "I mean, I was thinking about asking but I wasn't going to put you on the spot..." She glared slightly at Darcy, who merely grinned and then went back to not so subtly ogling the overly attractive male couple in their midst.

"It is no problem," Nicolo assured her.

"Are you sure? Because -"

"No, no, I am sure, trust me."

As the two went back and forth completely unnecessarily, Bucky glanced at Esteban and found him grinning back and rubbing his hands together excitedly. Bucky drew a breath and then smiled in a way that did nothing to hide how afraid he suddenly was for what he was going to end up wearing at the altar.

"Okay," Summer finally said when she had finally gotten over her irrational guilt at having just hired her wedding photographer. "Phew. All right. Everything's already coming together and I haven't even tried on a dress yet!"

"Ooh," Esteban whipped around and touched her shoulder. "Send me pics. I must have pics of all the dresses."

She nodded. "As long as Bucky doesn't see even an inch of them."

"I will defend the photos with my life," Esteban said utterly seriously.

"Good," Summer grinned.

"Oh! And one more thing. Do you have your colors picked out?"

"Yes!" Summer squeaked, yanking her purse from her shoulder and then diving into its somewhat terrifying depths. She then pulled out two paint sample strips, one of which had an old gum wrapper stuck to it, which she brushed off before handing Esteban the samples. "First of all, we decided on a vintage theme, and we're getting married on a farm, so we went with colors to match that sort of thing. It's the lightest one on the cream strip, and then on the red one, the darkest one. I think it's called 'rich red wine'."

Esteban and Nicolo both oohed and ahhed over the colors, and Natasha grinned proudly as she remarked, "I helped her come up with those."

"Yeah, I was stuck," Summer admitted. "At one point I was considering chocolate brown and pink. Which is definitely not vintage. At all."

Esteban and Nicolo both looked at her as if she had just suggested they all eat a box of newborn kittens for dinner. She merely shrugged and said, "I know. And I'm an event planner. I have no excuse."

"Well, we are here to help," Esteban assured her. "And we will make sure that your fiancé and his best man pick fabulous things today. They are in safe hands."

Bucky and Steve exchanged nervous looks while Summer squealed quietly and gave Esteban one more spontaneous hug. "Thank you _so much_. I so owe you." Then she dropped her voice to a whisper and told him, "By the way, just putting this out there - if you put him in a three piece suit with a waistcoat and everything, I might die."

Meanwhile, Sam gestured to the whole scene and muttered, "Seriously. I _am_ chopped liver."

"No," Natasha said, patting his shoulder. "You're just not quite... _fabulous_ enough to gain her full confidence."

After pulling away from Esteban with mutual conspiratorial grins, Summer then gave Bucky one more kiss goodbye and grinned excitedly before shooing the men all away. "Okay! Let me know how it goes! Text me and keep me updated!"

Bucky gave her an exasperated and amused look before grinning back, and that was when Esteban threw both of his arms around Bucky and Steve and then turned them around to head down the street.

"Ah, today is going to be one of my favorites, I can already feel it," Esteban said, looking up cheerfully to the sky as he said this. Then he looked between both men and asked, "Are you ready for this?"

Summer stifled a laugh and then waved back when Nicolo turned and waved to her with a smile. She then sighed and remarked to the two women at her side, "I'm starting to think there's literally nothing Bucky won't do for me. What do you guys think?"

Natasha scoffed a _duh_, and as they finally turned to walk into the bridal shop, Darcy replied, "Well, it's like the Meatloaf song. He'll do anything for love, but he won't do _that_."

"But what is _that_?" Summer asked as they walked through the doors. "Meatloaf never specifies."

Darcy shrugged. "Maybe Meatloaf draws the line at taking it up the -"

"Holy crap," Summer interrupted, now standing in the front end of the single biggest bridal store she'd ever seen. Granted, it was the only one she'd _ever_ seen in real life, but it was legitimately huge, and there were a _lot_ of people inside.

She would have stood there like a highly intimidated idiot for an embarrassingly long length of time, but Natasha, being the incredibly helpful maid of honor that she was, walked up to the front desk and took care of things.

Summer and Darcy stared at the racks upon racks upon _racks_ of plastic-wrapped dresses that lined the back of the store while Natasha waited for their consultant to make her way out to them.

"Well, this shouldn't be hard," Darcy said cheerfully. "You've only got a few million dresses to choose from."

"... Not helping," Summer muttered, gulping a bit.

Luckily, it ended up being much less torturous of an ordeal than she had feared.

* * *

Half an hour after Summer had first walked inside the place, she found herself in a tiny little dressing room with both Natasha and Darcy squeezed in there with her, both of them helping her dive into the first dress that her consultant, an older and very nice lady named Liz, had chosen for her to try on. There were five other dresses queued up, and she had picked this one to try first at random. Truth be told, short of the dress fitting the bill as "vintage", she had no real idea _what_ she wanted. As a result, Liz had pulled several different styles, and this first one was a ball gown.

"Where are you in there?" Darcy asked, digging through the layers of skirt to try to find where Summer was in the midst of it all.

"Right here!" she said, lifting her arms through the bodice and waving them.

"Oh good," Natasha said, pulling the dress down to its proper place and smiling when Summer popped up through it, pulling her hair out of her face in the process. "Okay. Stand up straight so I can try to clip this thing on you."

Being a sample dress, it was a few sizes too big for Summer, so as Darcy fluffed out the skirt, Natasha grabbed a few clips that sat nearby for this very purpose and clipped the back as tightly closed as she could. Summer looked down at the dress, feeling vaguely like this entire experience was taking place outside of her body, but then Nat gave her shoulder a tap and said, "All right, let's go."

She nodded, and then all three of them helped pick up the skirt of the dress as they made their way out of the dressing room and towards the platform and huge mirror that waited just outside. The minute that Summer caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, it all suddenly hit her like a proverbial ton of bricks directly on her head.

Natasha and Darcy helped her up to the platform, and as Summer stared at herself and paled a bit, Nat caught her expression in the mirror and then looked up at her in concern. "You okay?"

"_I'm getting married_," Summer said dumbly, as if she hadn't fully realized this fact until now.

Darcy chuckled. "Yeah, which is why you're in the fluffy princess dress."

At that moment, Liz the consultant returned from having checked on another customer, and she stopped and stared with a big smile on her kind face. "Oh, my! Look at you!"

Summer swallowed a sudden lump in her throat, her color returning a bit as she took in the dress and, more importantly, the sudden and mildly terrifying sensation of truly feeling like a _bride_ for the first time.

The dress itself was a shade of ivory, with a fitted sweetheart-neckline bodice at the top and a full skirt that gave it its ball gown title. It wasn't a cupcake dress, though, and it fit the vintage feel that Summer wanted. The skirt had a layer of lace details draped midway over the tulle fluff beneath, and the bodice had just enough sparkle and detail to not disrupt the overall theme.

"Do you like it?" Natasha asked, carefully examining the lace portion of the skirt.

"I... think so," Summer replied. "What do you guys think?"

"I think you look kinda like an old movie star crossed with a Disney princess," Darcy said.

"I think you look like a bride," Natasha smiled.

Summer grinned at them both and then turned back to the mirror, Natasha having hit the nail on the head. Until now, Summer hadn't really felt the part of a bride yet, mostly because everything had been in the early planning stages and it felt a lot like the work she did for Stark Industries, but... _now_, standing there in that dress, she finally felt that light, exhilarating sense of glee that had been eluding her.

"Oh man," Darcy grinned, "she's gonna cry."

"Shut up," Summer muttered, even as she smiled with a slightly quivering lip.

"It's okay," Nat shrugged. "Let it out."

"The more tears, the better," Liz confirmed, happily watching from the sidelines.

And then Summer started crying like every girl on every cheesy TLC wedding show she had ever seen.

But, despite the happy feelings and how much she truly did love the dress, she was far from ready to say yes to it. Instead, after pulling herself together, she barreled through no less than eight other dresses, all of different styles and shapes, in order to really cover the bases.

She tried A-lines, mermaids, trumpets, a few other ball gowns, and more, and while she liked some of them, none of them quite lived up to the very first one. With each new dress, her mind would drift back to the very first one, but she wasn't sure if it was because of the dress itself or just how she felt in it.

Natasha saw through this, however, and after Summer's rather _meh_ response to the eighth dress, she quietly asked Liz to bring the first one back out and then said to Summer, "So, you're a ball gown kind of girl."

Currently standing on the platform in an form-fitting and undeniably sexy trumpet dress, Summer glanced at Natasha and shrugged, "You know... maybe. I really don't know. I wouldn't have thought I was, but..."

"Do any of these other dresses make you feel like a bride?"

Summer looked in the mirror, shrugged again, then replied, "Sort of? But not as much. I mean, this is sexy and all and I look pretty good, but..."

"That's what I thought," Natasha said. "I'm having Liz bring the first one back. Let's try it on again and see if you feel the same way about it this time."

"Okay," Summer nodded, glancing at Darcy's reflection as she stuffed her face with cookies that had been provided as a compliment of the staff.

"What?" Darcy asked around a mouthful of crumbs. "I'm hungry."

Summer laughed and then made her way back into the dressing room. She wondered if Bucky was having as much fun right then as she was.

Then, a few moments later, after having wrestled off the trumpet dress and then dived back into the very first ball gown, Summer could immediately feel the difference once she was wearing it again. She headed back out to the mirror, Nat and Darcy again helping with the skirt, and at the first sight of it on her body again, the truth was as plain as day.

She never would have pegged herself as a ball gown kind of bride, but when Liz came by and placed a long, lace-trimmed veil on the back of her head, it was merely the icing on the cake.

"Yeah. Okay. Yup."

Natasha raised her eyebrows and grinned. "'Yup'?"

"Yeah," Summer nodded. "I can't believe I'm saying this about the very first dress I tried on, but I think this is it."

"That happens a lot," Liz assured her. "A lot of women end up going with the first dress they try on. There's nothing wrong with it. When it's the right one, you just know."

"But... well," Summer said, examining the dress carefully, especially the neckline. "Obviously it'll fit differently once I have it in my size, so... would that be... too much? Here?" She gestured to her chest.

"You mean too much boobage?" Darcy asked. "Nah. I say go for it."

Natasha then helpfully stepped up behind Summer and took the clips off of the back of the dress, then took it and tightened it as much as she possibly could with her hands. "There. This is probably what it'll look like in your size."

Her cleavage went from there to _very there_ at Natasha's movements. It wasn't over the top or distasteful, but...

"Is it too much?" Summer asked in a slightly small voice.

"It's hot," Darcy said.

"It's not too much," Natasha assured her. "And besides, they're two of his favorite parts of you, right? Might as well show them off a little. And one day when you're older, you'll look back on the pictures and probably be glad that you did."

"Good point," Summer nodded. Then she took a deep breath and decided to just do it and dive right in. "Okay. Yeah. Let's do it, then."

Liz clapped happily, and Darcy cheered through another mouthful of cookie as Summer smiled happily at her reflection. As Liz raced off to grab her measuring supplies, Natasha grinned at Summer in the mirror and said, "So this is the dress you'll be stripping off on your wedding night."

"Oh dear God," Summer gulped. "I almost forgot about that."

"Good thing it's got a zipper," Nat pointed out, and Summer blushed brightly before covering her face with her hands and laughing nervously.

Before Liz came back, Darcy used Summer's phone that she had been holding to snap a few pictures of her and send them to Esteban. Within only a few moments, he answered with very enthusiastic all-caps approval of the dress, then sent several pictures of his own, which made Darcy sit up and say, "_Whoa_."

"What?" Summer asked, still in the dress and standing on the platform in front of the mirror.

"Look at your dude," Darcy said, walking to her and handing the phone over.

Summer took the phone and grinned at the picture, which was of Bucky in a dark gray suit complete with matching tie and waistcoat. He didn't look particularly happy about being photographed.

"He looks like a kid when their parents get them new clothes for Christmas and then makes them try them on and pose for pictures," Darcy pointed out. "It's great."

Summer then scrolled over to the next picture, which was of a picture of the same suit in a catalog there at the menswear shop. Under it, Esteban had typed, _Now imagine that suit but in the very dark red color it lists as an option here_.

Summer's eyes widened as she flipped back to the other picture. "Oh. _Oh_. Whoa."

"That's what I said," Darcy nodded.

"Interesting," Natasha chimed in.

Summer waited only a moment before furiously typing back a very excited _YESSSSSSSSSSSS, _followed by quite a few heart-eyes emoticons and some jibber for good measure.

"Esteban is a gift to mankind," Summer said, handing Darcy her phone back. "I can't even describe how much I love that man."

"I know, and he gets to make out with Bradley Cooper all the time," Darcy shrugged. When neither other woman replied, she said, "What? Am I the only one who sees the resemblance?"

Before Summer could answer, Natasha's phone was the next to buzz, and Summer didn't miss the look of concern that crossed the woman's face as she read whatever had been sent to her.

"What's wrong?" Summer asked.

"Nothing," Natasha smiled, putting her phone away.

Summer gave her a look. "I know you well enough now to know your fake smile, and you are totally fake smiling at me right now."

"It's just work," Natasha shrugged. "Don't worry about it."

"Yeah, too late. I'm a professional worrier," Summer reminded her.

"Does it have anything to do with this?" Darcy asked, holding up Summer's phone. On the screen was an alert from a news app that she didn't use much but never bothered to delete either, and it described a bombing that had just happened just down in New Jersey at a government building. Two people were confirmed dead and at least fifteen were injured.

Natasha sighed and looked around before lowering her voice to just above a whisper. "It's the same guy who hit Dallas and St. Louis last month. He's getting closer to us and trying to draw us out on purpose, and starting riots everywhere he can."

"Who is it?" Summer asked. Natasha seemed reluctant to answer, and that was never a good thing.

"An old teammate of mine and Steve's," Natasha replied. "Who worked for HYDRA all along and also was one of Bucky's handlers when they still had him."

Summer furrowed her brows, her previously light-as-air mood coming back down to earth a bit. "You mean Bucky _knew_ this guy? Or remembers him?"

Natasha nodded. "But we're on it. Don't worry about it. Let's go get your dress off, okay?"

Summer nodded, glancing at Darcy before following Natasha back to the dressing room. Her thoughts raced quietly through the information that she had just heard, but she didn't let it wreck her day or her moment. The truth was, things like this were a part of life, and she had certainly had a lot of time to learn to accept this fact.

As Natasha helped to get her dress off, she asked Summer, "You're not letting this ruin your day, are you?"

"No," she replied honestly. "I mean... this is just my life now, right? Kinda like an Army wife, but instead I guess I'm gonna be... an Avenger wife."

She chuckled softly, and Natasha smiled at the term. "Life will never be boring. But I don't want you to worry, because we all know that when this fight happens, it might be hard for him. But he won't be alone."

That actually did go a long way in easing Summer's mind. She smiled and replied, "Thank you. And you know that makes you just the best maid of honor ever."

Natasha smiled back, and then Darcy said, "Hey, and I'm always here to distract you with movies and crap while everybody's off saving the world. Even though I technically have more reason to worry because my dude isn't full of super steroids."

"Well, mine can't literally _fly away_ if a fight goes bad," Summer pointed out.

Darcy paused. "Yeah, okay. Good point."

"Sam tried to carry both Bucky and Steve during training the other day," Natasha casually mentioned. "He ended up flying through a window and they all hit the ground whining like babies."

Summer and Darcy both broke out into quiet laughter, and Summer found that she was actually starting to deal with this Avenger stuff pretty well. It seemed almost normal now, or at least her own personal version of normal, and she wouldn't let her lingering anxiety steal the joy of this day and of having picked her dream wedding dress.

She just wished she didn't live in a world where deranged men ran around and killed innocent people for no real reason. She had a feeling, though, that whoever this guy was, pretty soon he was going to greatly regret his actions.

* * *

A week passed following that rather eventful day. During that week, Summer split her time between working, planning more wedding details and poring over the Internet for ideas, and keeping up with her usual tasks at home. Natasha found a bridesmaid dress that they both loved, and Esteban handpicked Steve's best man suit and did a _fantastic_ job. As a result of all the flurries of activity, Summer's sleep was suffering a bit and it had felt like she'd barely seen either Bucky or David the whole week, but she figured that was normal for this sort of thing.

But throughout those seven days, she watched a subtle but noticeable change take place within her fiancé. They both knew what was coming, the fight looming on the horizon from a man who was so eager for it that he made _sure_ the Avengers knew what his next move was. While at first she expected Bucky to be nervous or wary, she turned out to be very wrong. He wanted the fight every bit as badly as the one instigating it.

She'd seen it on his face accidentally, the day they all came back from wedding shopping. Tony had been showing Steve something on his phone when Bucky had glanced as well, and Summer walked by just in time to see the dark determination set in his eyes. She snuck a glance at the phone too, her skin crawling a little when she saw the face of this "Crossbones" guy who was apparently a SHIELD agent turned HYDRA lackey turned HYDRA leader/terrorist.

After that, when they had time together, she noticed Bucky's stares getting more faraway and his nightmares becoming more numerous. Before, they had gotten down to one or two a week; that week, it was every night. He also spent an unnecessary amount of time training, both in the tower and in the Avengers facility outside of the city, but when she finally managed to get him alone and willing to talk one night, she got the story out of him that he'd been keeping to himself.

That story replayed in her head as she drove Bucky and David out of the city very early in the morning following the one week mark, on the day that the confrontation was supposed to take place. David snoozed in the backseat as Bucky stared out the window somewhat absently, and as they neared the Avengers facility, Summer spoke quietly, "So I'm stuck at this place until you come back, right?"

He turned to her and nodded. "It's the safest place for you and David today."

She nodded, watching the road. "I still think it's weird that this whole fight today was basically scheduled. That he supposedly leaked where and when his next attack was just to draw you guys out. Can't be a good thing."

Bucky shrugged, looking down at his hands as he muttered, "Even if it's a trap, we'll still have the upper hand."

"If you were really that confident," she noted wryly, "you would have let me and David stay in the city today."

"There's always a chance things'll go wrong," Bucky replied. "I'm not taking the chance with you or him."

She understood, sighing and letting her mind drift until it settled on the story that Bucky had told her a few days before.

"So, you sure that you're okay with this?" She asked, glancing his way. "Fighting this guy?"

The way that Bucky had described the man, or Rumlow as he remembered him, had been more than a little chilling. Memories had apparently floated to the surface just after Bucky saw the picture of his face, and the memories weren't what Summer expected to hear. She had figured that Rumlow was a dick who probably helped shove Bucky around and maybe tossed him in and out of the freezer once HYDRA was done with him, but instead, Bucky described a guy who out of all of the agents he remembered, had actually been almost _nice_ to him. Almost.

Rumlow hadn't avoided eye contact like the others, or refused to speak to him. Bucky remembered being treated _almost_ like a human being by the man, being tossed bottles of water during missions he was present on and being referred to as things like "buddy" rather than just a code name or even less. He remembered Rumlow sometimes appearing almost admiring of Bucky, sort of the way that Pierce had, only there was nothing fake or mocking about it. Bucky was pretty sure that Rumlow had truly revered the Winter Soldier's work and held some twisted sort of great respect for him, while at the same time never questioning HYDRA's protocols.

Which only made it worse that Rumlow would then spend his days at Steve's side, pretending to be SHIELD and knowing exactly where Bucky was and what had happened to him, but not saying a word to his best friend who was _still_ grieving his death years later. In a very real way, it made Rumlow the _worst_ kind of dick. At least in Summer's opinion, and that of most everybody else.

"I'll be fine," Bucky said, answering Summer's question after a pause. "I need to do this."

Summer nodded, completely understanding. Just like she'd had to track Mark down and confront him into signing the papers that gave up his parental rights to David, Bucky had to face his own abusers as well. She wouldn't question that or try to talk him out of it, just as he hadn't tried to talk her out of confronting Mark.

When they got to the facility, Summer parked and gently woke David up before Bucky led them both inside. She was expecting a building that looked like something straight out of a CIA thriller-movie, and that was sort of what she got, only more high tech and even more secretive-looking.

The place was huge, and at barely six in the morning, crawling with people all dressed in mainly bland business-type clothes and security badges. She felt highly out of place in her jeans and lack of a badge, but nobody even glanced at her questioningly. She figured it had something to do with the guy holding her hand and walking her down the halls.

Then they approached a section of the building that Summer thought looked just like the typical "headquarters" in movies, full of people sitting in front of computer screens and important-looking agents walking around talking to other agents and issuing orders regarding God-knows what, all enclosed in glass doors and windows so that one could peek in and see the action at work. Only she didn't get to see much, since as soon as a tall brunette lady noticed their presence outside of the room, she came outside and greeted them with a cool but reasonably friendly smile.

"Agent," she nodded to Bucky, and Summer grinned for some reason at him being referred to as such. Then the lady looked at Summer, and since she was a _little_ intimidating and Summer didn't know her, she stopped smiling. "This must be the family."

He nodded and said, "I know you'll be busy today but if you could do what I talked to you about the other day..."

"No problem," she assured him. "And Fury wants to see you downstairs with the others."

Bucky nodded. "Thank you." The woman nodded back, and Bucky then turned to Summer and gave her a hug.

She hugged him back, closing her eyes when he gave her a quick kiss before letting her go and bending down to give David a hug, too. Summer glanced at the woman, then turned back to Bucky when he straightened up and said, "She's going to take care of you while you're here. Don't go anywhere for anything, okay?"

Summer nodded, and he gave her one more quick kiss before turning to leave. Before he did, however, she softly told him, "Be safe."

He nodded seriously, and then he was gone. After he walked away, disappearing around a corner up ahead, Summer looked at the woman next to her and finally got a proper introduction.

"I'm Agent Maria Hill," she said, offering her hand.

"Oh," Summer said, shaking her hand. She'd heard her name before, from just about everybody in the tower. "Hi. I'm Summer, and this is David."

"I know," she smiled at both of them. "You're kind of famous here."

Summer's half-smile fell off of her face and was replaced by sheer terror. "I... am?"

Maria shrugged. "It's not every day that one of the world's deadliest assassins gets put on the straight and narrow by a random civilian and her little boy."

Summer floundered, "I... well... I don't know if I'd say straight and narrow, but..."

Maria simply maintained her smile and said, "Follow me."

Summer blinked and then fell into step behind the agent when she started walking. David kept trying to stop and look at things on the way, but Summer managed to keep him moving, and along the way, Maria explained, "Contrary to what he said, I'm _not_ going to be taking care of you. I've got work to do and you don't strike me as someone who needs a babysitter, so instead, you'll be staying here."

_Here_ was a what looked at first glance to be a supply closet in the middle of the hallway, but once the agent opened the door and Summer peered inside, it looked more like a break room. A rather cozy looking break room.

"Oh. Okay," Summer said, leading David inside and peering at the vending machines, television on the wall, and even a comfortable looking couch on one side of the room. "Thanks."

"You're welcome. Oh, and this," she handed Summer a badge from her pocket, "will keep anyone from bothering you if they ask why you're here. There's wifi and the TV gets about three hundred channels."

"Awesome," Summer said as David made a beeline for the couch and plopped face down, apparently still quite sleepy. She looked at Maria and nodded gratefully, then asked, "Will there be a bunch of agents coming in here today to eat lunch and staring at the weird intruders just hanging out?"

"We'll all be working through lunch today," Maria replied. "I wouldn't worry."

"Right. Big creepy fight with Scarface today." She paused. "Which I obviously know nothing about. I don't know... anything. Ever. Definitely nothing classified."

Maria merely smiled and began to turn back to the door. "Of course not. Stay out of trouble. Call the number on the back of the badge and ask for me if anything happens."

Summer nodded, suddenly wondering how often things _happened_ here, and then watched the door close behind the agent. She then looked about the room, glancing first at David who was now snoring, which was actually great progress for him considering how difficult of a time he used to have eating or sleeping anywhere odd. Then she looked around some more and ended up settling her gaze on the coffeemaker, deciding she may as well just get it over with and drink about five cups before ending up watching bad morning talk shows to pass the time.

_You're kind of famous here_. Summer cringed and hoped to God that she wasn't famous for being the tower's loud floozy that desperately needed a soundproofed bedroom. God only _knew_ what Tony said about her when she wasn't around.

Oh well. It certainly wasn't the worst problem to have, she supposed.

* * *

With the plan set and team almost ready to go, Bucky double checked the arsenal of weapons strapped to his person for the fifth time while going over said plan in his head for the tenth. His role today was relatively minor, at least in terms of visibility, but that was as it always was. He would actually be among the first on the scene, along with one other person whom his eyes drifted to as the rest of the team finished their preparations all around him.

This was going to be Wanda's first big mission as an official Avenger. Since the Ultron debacle, she had done little things here and there, mostly training exercises and some not, but this was the big one for her. And she was nervous. Bucky could see that a mile away.

She had all the support in the world, including from Clint, who was lending a hand today and currently suiting up across the room. Clint felt a natural responsibility to her after what had happened between himself and the twins, and the affection between them was real and entirely family-like. Bucky, however, had different reasons for feeling compelled to protect the girl, though they were no less important than Clint's.

First, there was their shared history as HYDRA experiments. Despite his initial reactions to Wanda and her brother having "volunteered" for the group's experiments, he now fully understood and accepted that they had actually zero clue as to what they had signed up for and were just as victimized as anybody else. He knew what she had been through on a level that few others could understand, and he knew exactly what it was like to stare out a window like she currently was and see nothing and yet _everything_.

Secondly, and most importantly, _David_. The kid absolutely adored Wanda and followed her around like she personally hung the moon and the stars in the sky. That alone made her extremely important and a priority in Bucky's mind.

He walked over to where she stood, dressed in red and black with her auburn hair down and doing nothing to cover the worry on her face as she looked out through the shaded windows. There was nothing but trees out there, and whatever was going through her head in that moment as he approached.

"You okay?" he asked. She looked up at him in mild surprise, then turned back to the window.

"You are the fourth person to ask me that today," she said, one hand fidgeting with the sleeve on her other arm.

"Maybe you should stop staring out the window, then," he replied. She glanced at him and rolled her eyes just a bit.

"Can I ask you something?" she asked. He nodded. "You knew this man, this... Crossbones. Will you kill him today?"

Bucky only paused for a brief few seconds before giving his answer. "It's not what we do."

"It's not what _they_ do," Wanda replied, gesturing to the people behind them. Steve, Sam, Clint, Rhodey, Vision. "Do you feel like one of them?"

"Do you?" he asked in turn.

Her eyes darted to Natasha, then back to Steve and Sam before replying, "Sometimes. I know none of them are perfect and they have all killed before. Some of them a lot. But..."

"But what?" he asked gently.

"I feel..." she faltered, frowning and clearly not wanting to say anything more. Bucky knew the feeling incredibly well. But she persevered, her eyes becoming harder as she all but stared a hole into the window's fortified glass. "I feel a... _hatred_. And I can't get rid of it. Sometimes I can ignore it, but it never leaves. He's dead - Ultron is dead - and now I have nobody to hate. Nobody to kill. But I _want_ to."

"That's why you don't feel like one of them," Bucky surmised.

She nodded. "I believe in this, I do. And I want to be better. I want to honor my brother and make him proud. But how can I when this is what I am? I am not like them. Like Steve."

Bucky almost laughed, but he held it in. "You think I am? _Nobody's_ like Steve. Nobody."

"Then how can you wear this?" Wanda asked, gesturing to the small A on her sleeve and the matching one on Bucky's right. "I feel like an impostor every time I look at it."

Bucky paused, looking at the letter and eventually muttering, "Yeah, me too."

Wanda looked at him helplessly, and Bucky was pretty sure that he was giving the worst pep talk in the history of mankind. But then he thought of a way to hopefully turn it around, and if not, well... words just weren't his thing. But damn if he didn't give it his best shot anyway.

"I know what that anger feels like," he told her. "And wanting to kill, thinking it'll make you feel better. And most of the time, the people we're fighting deserve it anyway, so why not, right?"

She watched him curiously, listening intently. He then added quietly, "But it never makes you feel better. Maybe for a few minutes, but... that's it. And they might deserve it, but the thing is that they're not _worth_ it."

"You mean... worth the guilt?" she asked.

Now it was his turn to stare out the window, trying to think of a way to convey what he was thinking. "It's more than that. Even when it's necessary, whether it's war or a mission... it's just..."

He paused, frowning. This would be so much easier if he had Summer's way with words.

"Unnatural," Wanda finished for him, looking away.

He looked at her in both surprise and relief. "Yeah." Then he added, "If you have to, then you have to. But it'll never feel okay. It'll always haunt you. It just... haunts less when it's justified." And he'd never stop wishing that he didn't know that firsthand, _many_ times over.

"I understand what you're saying," she said quietly, going back to fidgeting with her sleeve. "But I don't think it'll change how I feel."

"Probably not," he agreed. "Time's the only thing that changes that. Just... don't let a letter be a burden."

"How can I not?" she asked incredulously. "People _worship_ Captain America and Thor. They'll never look at me the way they look at them."

He shrugged. "Me either."

He held out a lot more hope for her than himself, however. Her history wasn't nearly as bloody and questionable as his. She had a chance to shine someday, if she wanted to. But for now, they were both in the shadows where HYDRA had left them, and getting back into the light took time.

"But," Bucky said after a long moment of silence between them, "There_ is_ someone who looks at us both like that."

Finally, a smile reached Wanda's face. "David."

He nodded, and he was almost smiling with her when footsteps behind them interrupted the moment. He turned to find Clint standing there, geared up and nodding to them both before asking, "Ready to go?"

He glanced at Wanda, and she briefly glanced back before nodding to Clint. "Yes."

"Good." Then he looked at Bucky and said with the utmost seriousness, "Take care of her, Barnes."

Wanda let out a tiny huff of a laugh before Bucky could reply. "You sound like Pietro."

"Somebody has to," Clint replied, and Bucky watched what he assumed was a meaningful kind of look be exchanged between the two. Then it was Steve's turn to nudge them out the door.

"Time to go," he said, and Bucky nodded before gesturing to the elevator. Wanda then followed him there, and together they descended to the underground garage.

Wanda let out a colorful word in her native tongue that made Bucky grin the moment the doors opened and she laid eyes on his motorcycle, innocently waiting for them.

"What, did you think we were taking a cab?" he asked her, walking to the bike and then handing her a helmet before hopping on himself.

"Don't kill us before we even get there," she replied, looking at the helmet with a distaste reminiscent of Summer when she had faced her own first ride on the bike.

"Don't throw up on me," he shot back. "Now get on before we're late."

She sighed heavily, jamming the helmet on her head and then obliging in a distinctly unhappy way. She jumped when he turned on the engine - again, like Summer - and he laughed, finding that it was always better charging into a battle with a friend than alone.

From there, the plan was fairly simple. Going off of the intel they had, it had been decided two days ago where Bucky and Wanda would go and set up in preparation of the fight. Bucky would take his usual position, out of sight and high enough to see everything and pick off hostiles as they threatened the others, and Wanda would initially be in charge of civilian evacuation. Having cleared most of an entire city in her home country a matter of months ago, using her powers to influence a few blocks' worth of New Yorkers to head to safety would likely only take her minutes. Then she would stand by, and time would tell how the day would end.

And that was exactly how it went, completely according to plan, at least until the plan failed. Bucky wasn't surprised, because nothing _ever_ went according to plan.

* * *

Early that afternoon, Summer had begun to doze off on the surprisingly comfy couch while David played on his tablet next to her, only to suddenly jerk awake when her phone buzzed on her lap. She blinked and read the news alert on her screen, then felt her stomach drop.

_Explosion reported in downtown NYC_. She then dropped her phone and quickly found the TV remote, hurriedly switching it to a news channel, but they weren't covering anything yet. Her insides twisting into an anxious knot, she wondered what the hell was happening and started praying that nothing would happen to the people that she loved who were in the middle of it, or the innocent people they were fighting for.

* * *

The amusing thing was, Bucky had known that their "intel" was bad - they all did. It was simply too easy, and just as they had all suspected, the fight ended up happening all the way on the other side of the city, much closer to Avengers Tower than to the buildings that Wanda had cleared of people. And now there was a building on fire and people to be rescued.

With his arm disguised and his own helmet completely covering his face for his identity's sake, Bucky sped through the streets with Wanda clinging to him from behind, and as they approached the scene, he called back to her, "Now you're gonna have to keep people inside instead of get them out."

"What about the building that's on fire?" she called back.

"We'll figure that out when we get there," Bucky replied, hoping that the others would have that situation handled and that he and Wanda could stick to their new, improvised plan. "Now wait for my word, and when I say go, do your... voodoo."

She _hated_ it when he called it that, which was the main reason why he kept calling it that. She didn't protest this time, however, and as he zipped through traffic and reached the perimeter that the others were working on, he slowed down some and said, "Now."

Wanda then carefully and with extreme caution let go of him, and stretched out both of her arms as far as they would go. He turned his head and watched the red tendrils of power leave her fingertips and crawl through the air, reaching the buildings on both the left and the right and seeping into them. He drove them the length of the perimeter, and Wanda singlehandedly kept the situation from getting worse through panic and disorganized fleeing. Instead, everybody calmly took shelter and stayed out of the way, and once it was done, he swung them to a stop in front of the building that had been hit.

It was an office building, and it had been hit right in its very heart. Vision and Sam were there, flying around and helping emergency crews get everyone to safety, and Bucky asked Wanda as he watched, "Want me to drop you here?"

"Okay," she agreed, getting off the bike and looking up at the building a bit warily.

He had things to do. He couldn't stay here and babysit her, nor did she need him to, so he revved the engine and called out to her, "Call if you need me."

She glanced back and nodded. "I will."

Then he drove off. There was a fight unfolding up ahead in the streets, away from the initial explosion, and that was why he was here.

* * *

Summer almost choked in both relief and dread when the news finally started covering what the hell was happening in the city. Apparently a building had been bombed, and now she was watching live footage of Sam and Vision flying around and rescuing people. Soon Tony arrived to help, and on the ground, there was some kind of fight happening, but the cameras couldn't get close enough to get a good look at it. It was infinitely frustrating.

Then, she saw something both horrible and amazing. There was a jumper on one of the highest floors of the burning building. The flames were getting closer to him, but the Avengers running the rescue efforts currently and quite literally had their hands full, so the man in a fit of desperation to escape was preparing to jump. He only needed to hang on just another moment or two, but he didn't. He jumped, and Summer gasped in horror.

But then he froze in midair, and she knew why as soon as she saw the red wisps hovering around him like a cloud slowly leading him down safely to the Earth. The reporters were utterly flabbergasted. Flying men in metal suits or wings they were getting used to, but _this_? What the hell was this?

It was a small, remarkable woman standing on the sidewalk, with her hands in the air and glowing scarlet as she saved the jumper's life and brought his feet down to the ground, to the astonishment of the medics and firefighters standing by.

Summer was ridiculously proud of her. She just wished she knew where Bucky was in the middle of all of this.

* * *

Cameras were everywhere. Bucky got out of sight quickly, but as things turned out, he didn't get to stay out of it for long.

He took up position on a rooftop, looking through the scope of his rifle to the scene unfolding on the ground. Rumlow wasn't working alone, that was for sure. He had a small army with him, and that small army was giving Steve, Nat, Clint and Rhodey a run for their money.

The explosion had been a mere diversion, intended to break up the group and thus leave the non-flying Avengers left to fight the men while the others were forced to focus on rescue efforts. Bucky wasted no time in getting to work dropping the men that he had clear shots at, but he hadn't even seen Rumlow himself yet, and that didn't make him feel any better about the situation.

The first bullet he fired landed in the head of a man who had been choking Steve from behind, and when the guy's limp body hit the ground, Steve looked up to try to catch a glimpse of his ever-helpful sniper best friend. He knew exactly where to look, and Bucky let out an amused huff when Steve then saluted him.

He suddenly got the feeling that exact thing had happened before, back in the old days, but he would think about that later. For now, he got back to helping even up the fight, though it seemed like two more men would replace every one that he took out. _Fitting_.

Then a helicopter buzzed overhead. He took his finger off the trigger and looked up. It was a military chopper, and his first thought was that the government was sending in troops already to take control of the situation. But he was quickly proven wrong; the helicopter lowered down, in the midst of the city block, and then men dressed identical to the hostiles on the ground poured out and landed on the ground. One of them, however, was different.

He was decked out in armor, a sort that looked mechanical, a bit like Tony's but far cruder. It was black and he wore a full face mask with graffiti-like facial markings on it, and just before he joined the fight on the ground, he raised his head and looked right at Bucky, as if he knew exactly where to look to find him. Then he raised his gun and fired three shots.

Bucky ducked down and took cover in time, but he immediately knew who the man was. And he was immediately _angry_.

Once Rumlow was on the ground, the situation went from bad to worse. Bucky tried to maintain his position, but he saw Clint get shot in the leg and Natasha take a knife to her shoulder, and Steve was getting the crap beat out of him. The others were still trying to contain the fight to the perimeter and rescue civilians, though Tony was trying to split his time equally between that and the fight, to his credit.

But Bucky could only stand by and watch for so long. There came a point where staying in the shadows and out of sight simply wasn't going to cut it, and when that point came, he gritted his teeth and ditched his rifle before making his way down to the street.

It was where he wanted to be, anyway.

* * *

"Hey Cap."

Those two words inspired more anger in Steve than he ever would have thought possible. The fact that they were followed up by a robotic punch to the face was beside the point.

Already a bit battered from the fight but still standing and newly motivated, Steve merely turned right back to his former colleague and said, "Why don't you take that mask off and try that again."

With no other prompting needed, Rumlow took off the mask and let it clatter to the pavement at his feet. Steve's anger grew twofold at the sight of the man's face, and it had nothing to do with his scars but _everything_ to do with the smirk on his face.

"Just so you know," Rumlow then said, "this _still_ isn't personal."

Steve then snapped, tossing his shield at Rumlow's _face_, and the confrontation that he had been preparing for finally began.

With the aid of the suit Rumlow was in, the fight was damn near evenly matched, but Steve had righteous anger on his side and a hell of a grudge powering his every punch.

Generally speaking, Steve didn't hate anyone. He strongly despised some people and pitied others, but he just didn't often waste the energy required to truly hate someone. In those moments, however, he realized that he may, in fact, truly hate Brock Rumlow, more than he had ever hated anyone or anything in his life.

At one point, after a painful whirlwind of punches and chokeholds and the sort of dirty tactics one would expect from a HYDRA disciple, Steve had managed to wrestle Rumlow to the ground, and as he held him down with his hand around his throat and knee to his chest, Steve growled out, "I worked with you almost every day for two years. Two years, Rumlow." He tightened his grip, then asked with a sudden desperation, "_Why didn't you tell me_?"

He knew the answer, of course. But the answer wasn't the point.

"Yeah, sorry about that," Rumlow gasped through the hold Steve had on his throat. "Figured... it was easier that way, since..."

"Since _what_?" Steve demanded, loosening his grip just enough so that Rumlow could speak more easily.

"... Since your friend's days were numbered anyway."

Steve furrowed his brows, though those words only served as confirmation of something he had suspected for some time now. Had HYDRA succeeded in getting those helicarriers up and active, their asset would have been rendered completely obsolete. He would have been dead before the day was over.

"His body's up on that rooftop, if you want to go grab it later," Rumlow said between coughs, as if he was mentioning picking up dry cleaning or a lunch order.

Steve's face paled. Though he knew better than to believe a single word out of this man's mouth, nothing could stop the sudden, sickening drop of his heart into his stomach. "_What_?!"

Then there was a blow to the back of his head from a rifle being swung at full force, and he was flung off of Rumlow face first into the pavement. Then there was another blow to his head, and another, then one more, and eventually, with his scattered thoughts almost entirely focused on his best friend, everything went black.

Rumlow stood over Steve's unconscious body, glanced up at the man of his who had been the one to deliver the blows, and then said, "Thanks."

But before the man could answer, a bullet whizzed past Rumlow's ear, grazing it and then lodging directly between the other man's eyes. He dropped to the ground with an inhuman cry, and Rumlow turned around just in time to see the pure fury on HYDRA's ex-asset's face as he all but growled, "Get away from him."

Rumlow expected a bullet to his own head, but instead, Bucky's left arm pulled back and then the disguised metal fist smashed into his jaw and shattered the bones like they were made of straw.

Rumlow didn't hit the ground, however. He was conditioned for this kind of pain and even more, so he stayed on his feet and decided to antagonize his attacker for good measure.

"Nice haircut." He spat out a mouthful of blood, vaguely aware of a tooth hitting the ground with it. Then Bucky hit him again, this time square in the middle of his face, and this time it was his nose that paid the price.

Bucky's face was utterly murderous, terrifying and nearly shaking with his anger. "_I said_ get away from him."

A news helicopter flew by overhead. Rumlow figured now was his chance to turn the public against the Avengers and make life particularly difficult for one of their newest members.

* * *

Summer couldn't believe what she was seeing. Clint had all but disappeared, Natasha was nowhere to be seen, and Steve looked _dead_, face down on the ground. Wanda was blasting men in the face and Vision was helping her, but there was _a lot _of bad guys, and Rhodey and Tony were currently trying to keep a helicopter of said bad guys from crashing into a building after having knocked it out of the sky a little too forcefully.

And in the middle of all of this, she could see Bucky on the ground, fighting that raging dickhead Crossbones in the middle of all of it. Bucky wasn't recognizable, because his arm looked like a normal flesh arm and his face wasn't viable to the camera, but she knew it was him, and she watched in both horror and fascination as he and Crossbones began to fight each other in a way that was nothing short of _brutal_.

She didn't doubt Bucky's ability to handle himself, and the skill with which he fought the other man was mind-boggling, but she wasn't sure if she had ever been more scared in her life. She didn't want to watch for fear of what she might see, but she also couldn't rip her eyes away.

She held her breath, both hands over her mouth as the fight dragged on.

* * *

Bucky had never fought Rumlow before. The guy was good, especially with the added force of his suit, but Bucky didn't doubt the outcome of the fight for one minute. Each hit that Rumlow landed only made Bucky hit him back harder, and every chance he got, he ripped a piece of his suit away with his metal hand, leaving him more and more vulnerable with each one.

And the whole damn time, the bastard didn't _shut up_.

"You don't have to fight me, you know," Rumlow said, ducking to avoid the swinging of Bucky's dagger that _just_ missed him. "You could come back with me. Stop playing dress up with the freak show."

Bucky might have laughed had Rumlow not then swung his fist at him with all his mechanically-aided might. Bucky caught his fist with his left hand, and it took a lot more strength than he would have admitted to keep it from smashing into him.

"Still not much for words I guess," Rumlow observed, before an electric current of some kind struck Bucky's arm through Rumlow's suit. It didn't hurt, but it paralyzed the arm, and then Rumlow smashed his head into Bucky's in a headbutt that _almost_ knocked Bucky off his feet, but not quite. He staggered back, glaring at the other man and taking a moment to note the current state of things.

Steve was still knocked out on the ground. There was a second building on fire now, and it was Tony and Rhodey's fault, because the chopper they'd taken down had crashed into it when they failed to get it under control. The others were fighting the rest of Rumlow's men. It was just what Rumlow wanted - a damn circus that would ultimately reflect the most poorly on the Avengers.

He still couldn't move his left arm, but his right one was fine and the knife clutched in that hand was eager to make the man in front of him bleed. And so, with his most powerful arm temporarily useless as it quietly repaired itself, Bucky attacked again.

This time, he landed the knife a few times, but only in non-lethal areas and it didn't slow Rumlow down as much as he would have liked. But it was all strategic, and once his arm was back to being functional, he managed to rip off the main chest piece of armor and then sent Rumlow flying back into a car with a hard kick to his chest.

He glanced over to Steve. He was still down, but Natasha was there now, checking his pulse on his neck. They shared a brief look before Rumlow's voice stole Bucky's full attention back.

"Still pack a punch," he wheezed, trying to sit up. "Wonder what that pretty girl of yours thinks of that."

And with just that one sentence, Bucky's eyes and entire demeanor shifted from angry and combative to utterly _deadly _and _brutal_.

He descended upon the man with a fury, grabbing him by the neck and growling, "You say one word about her and I'll rip your head off."

"Yeah?" Rumlow asked, voice hoarse and cracking through the hold Bucky had on his throat. "Thought you'd do that anyway."

"I will if you don't shut the hell up," Bucky replied, squeezing tighter.

In the midst of his sputtering and gasping for air, Rumlow managed to actually _laugh_ and choke out, "I thought you'd want revenge after I dropped the bomb on her house."

For one split second that felt like an eternity, Bucky froze. His hatred and anger towards HYDRA crystallized and concentrated into one point of focus, centered on one man who had just admitted to destroying Summer's home and nearly killing her and David in the process. He had never wondered who had been the one to give the order to drop the bomb, or who had been behind each attempt by HYDRA to grab him and drag him back into their clutches. But now that he knew who had been pulling the strings all along...

He let go of Rumlow's throat. Then he pulled a gun strapped to his back and shoved the barrel into the side of his neck, under the jaw he'd broken only moments ago.

"There you go," Rumlow muttered, straining to look down at the gun as it pressed against him. "_That's_ more your style."

Bucky didn't see a man laying before him. He saw Summer's tears over losing her every possession to the explosion, and her limp, ashen body that he'd carried to safety just barely in time following the attack. He saw David's scared and bewildered eyes when Summer told him that their home was gone. He saw every single way that HYDRA had touched their lives since Bucky had known them.

Wearing that A on his shoulder meant that he was an Avenger. And if this wasn't something to avenge, then he didn't know what could ever be.

He turned off the safety on the gun and pressed it harder to Rumlow's throat. Rather than shake or tremble with anger and hatred, an eerie calm overcame him, and it was almost like welcoming an old friend after a long separation. This was what he knew. This was what he was best at. And this was _justified_.

He pulled the trigger. At least, he tried to. To his instant confusion, the trigger wouldn't budge. He tried to pull it again, only to fail once more.

He looked down at the gun angrily, trying to force the trigger back with his finger, but then he couldn't move his _finger. _In fact, his entire right arm was frozen, and glowing _red, _along with the gun.

He looked up and saw Wanda standing behind Rumlow only a few yards away, her hand outstretched and energy flowing from her fingertips to his arm.

He opened his mouth to rail at her. Curse, scream that this wasn't her problem and to leave him the hell alone and let him do this. But the words never left his mouth, because she beat him to it.

"It's not what we do," she reminded him gently. Then she closed her hand and returned control of his arm and his gun back to him.

It was just enough to pull him back from the brink and send that old friend, the cold-blooded soldier that haunted him from the dark corners from his mind, back to the past where it belonged.

He _could_ kill Rumlow. Rumlow deserved it, more than most. But he didn't _have_ to kill him. And most importantly, he simply wasn't worth it.

So instead, Bucky knocked Rumlow out with a brutal and efficient punch to his head. Then he looked up at Wanda again, and he expressed his thanks for her actions with a barely perceptible nod. She smiled just a little bit back, and then it was over. His job was done.

He left Rumlow in the hands of Wanda and Tony, who had swooped in just after Bucky had knocked him out. Then he went to Steve, who was still unconscious and still being tended to by Natasha. He would be okay, Bucky knew, but he couldn't shake the nagging sense of failure for having not gotten to the ground in time to protect him. Some instincts simply never died.

All around them, the fight was nearing its end. Rumlow's men were either captured, unconscious, or retreating. Buildings were burning but civilians were safe. There was no telling what the long term consequences of this mess would be, but a news helicopter whizzing overhead led Natasha to tell Bucky, "Go. Don't let them see you."

He nodded, looking down at Steve and then looking back up at her. She didn't need to hear him say the words to nod again and say without hesitation, "I've got him. Go."

And so, with his hands free of Rumlow's blood but mind full of resurfacing memories that would haunt him for the rest of the night, he left, and he didn't look back.

* * *

Summer paced the length of the little break room more times than even a mathematician could count. The live footage she had been watching had panned to the second building once the chopper hit it, and once it moved back to where Bucky and Crossbones had been fighting, they were both gone. And she had no idea what that meant.

And so, she went out of her mind with worry. Several times, she almost left the room to go roam the halls and try to find somebody, anybody, who could give her information on what had happened, but she didn't want to be _that_ girl. It took all of her self control, but she managed to keep it together and just wait for someone to either call her or show up and put her mind at ease.

And sooner than she thought, someone _did_ show up.

She had been scouring the Internet on her phone and rewatching footage that she had already seen when she heard the door open. She looked up and then audibly gasped when she saw Bucky himself walk through the door.

It didn't matter that he was bruised and bleeding from his cheek and hairline, not to mention wearing someone else's blood on his uniform and even in his hair. None of that mattered, because he was there and he was safe, and she ran to him so fast that he actually startled a little as she clung to him.

"Oh my God," she said as his arms wrapped around her and held her in turn, "I saw you on TV and you were fighting him but then you were gone and I didn't know what happened..."

"I'm fine," he assured her, pulling back and bringing his right hand to her face. "We're all fine."

"What about Steve? He was just _laying_ there..."

"He'll be all right. He's downstairs getting patched up. I have to go too. Take David home. I'll be there later, okay?"

"But why can't you come with me now?" She asked, prepared to throw a fit over it if need be.

"Debriefing and... just go," he shrugged quietly. "Please. It's safe at the tower now. I don't want you and David to be miserable here all day."

Her urge to throw a fit slowly dissolved in the face of reality. She knew there were protocols following things like today, and no amount of whining would change that.

"When do you think you'll be home?" she asked quietly, looking him over and feeling her motherly instincts start running wild. He needed a shower and first aid and probably some food and a drink and...

"I don't know," he replied honestly. "Maybe late. I'll call you when I'm done here."

She nodded, then gave him a short but sweet kiss. He barely returned it, and she didn't expect anything more from him. "Okay. Just... I'm so glad you're okay. I was going crazy worrying."

"I know," he said, hugging her a bit closer for a moment.

"You got him, though, right?" she asked, looking up at him and watching his eyes become a bit more faraway looking at the question.

He nodded. "Yeah. We got him. He's going to prison."

"Good," she nodded. "Good. You looked great on TV, by the way."

She smiled at him, but he couldn't quite muster up a smile of his own. "Did you see my face, or..."

She quickly shook her head. "No. I didn't. You just looked like a normal agent. But I knew it was you."

Bucky nodded, then glanced at David, who was still wrapped up in his game on the couch. "Did he see anything?"

"No. I didn't let him watch. He has no idea what happened today."

Bucky nodded again, both of them in silent agreement that David's ignorance was for the best. Then Bucky drew a breath, kissed her forehead, and said, "I've gotta go."

"Okay," she nodded, reluctantly letting him go. He tried to smile at her before he turned and headed out the door, but it looked like more of a grimace than anything. She didn't want to let him leave without reminding him of one thing. "I love you."

He paused with his hand on the door, and his eyes grew _sad_ as he gave his reply. "I love you too."

Then he turned and left, and Summer knew that whatever was spinning around in his head, it wasn't good. She knew that look in his eyes, and it had been exactly what she was afraid of seeing today.

He just needed to come home. The problem was, he didn't come home until much, _much_ later that night.

* * *

She waited _hours_ for his call. The day was long over and David was asleep in bed for the night, and she was still waiting. She dressed for bed and went to Bucky's room, feeling more at ease there as she checked her phone relentlessly but saw nothing.

None of the others were back yet, either. Thankfully, she had gotten a few texts of out Natasha that confirmed that everybody was okay, including Steve, who was as always a rather quick healer. But all she got from Bucky was silence, and she actually fell asleep with her phone in her hand, waiting for him to finally tell her that he was coming home.

Her phone finally buzzed, about an hour after she dozed off. She jerked awake, blinking rapidly and holding up the phone to find not an incoming call but a text, and a rather short one from him at that: _On my way home_.

She breathed a sigh of relief. Then she accidentally fell asleep again, during the hour-long wait for him to make the drive home.

The next time she jerked awake, it was because of the door opening and Bucky walking heavily through it. She immediately awoke and sat upright in the bed, her phone falling from her hand to the sheets, forgotten.

He was still in his uniform, which explained why his footsteps sounded so heavy. She rubbed away the sleep from her eyes and then focused on his slightly haggard appearance as she said lightly, "Hey."

He didn't answer, meeting her eyes and then looking away, closing the door behind him and then immediately reaching for the straps of the upper half of his uniform. Summer quickly moved off of the bed, getting to her feet and walking to him as she watched his right hand rather poorly try to work the suit off.

His cuts were patched up now, but even all these hours later, he still had someone else's blood in his hair and on his clothes. She carefully reached out and stilled his hand, and at that touch, Bucky finally met her gaze and held it.

He was a thousand miles away. And that was okay. That was what she had expected. She knew what to do when he was like this.

"Hey," she said softly, giving his hand a gentle squeeze, "it's okay. You're home." When he nodded, still not taking his eyes off of her, she said, "Let me go start a shower for you, okay?"

He grimaced a little, and she immediately thought better of the idea. He was undoubtedly exhausted, so maybe getting him off of his feet was a better idea. "Actually, I'll start you a bath."

When he didn't grimace again, she took that as a good sign. She left him standing there just in front of the door as she headed into the bathroom and turned on the water in the bathtub, wide awake now and hoping that she would be able to pull him out of whatever darkness was making him revert to his old habits of staring and not talking.

Once the water was running and at the right temperature - as hot as it could go without being painful - she straightened up and then turned around only to jump in surprise to find him standing _right there_.

"I'm sorry," he muttered as she smiled and patted her suddenly racing heart.

"It's okay. _I'm_ sorry," she shrugged. It was hardly the first time he'd ever scared the crap out of her that way.

Bucky then glanced at the tub and said, "You don't have to do this. It's late and you were sleeping..."

"I _do_ have to do this," she said resolutely, stepping closer to him. "You'd do it for me. You _have_ done it for me."

He didn't argue with her. Instead, he looked down and watched as her fingers went to work getting the top of his uniform off. She had enough experience with doing this to be able to get it off relatively quickly. First went the holsters, then the many buttons on the leather strappings, and on it went until it was all a pile of pieces on the floor at their feet. He didn't say a word, and neither did she, and by the time her work was done, the tub was full and ready to be turned off.

He seemed a bit surprised by the fact that she then led him to the bathtub, getting him settled into it without taking off a stitch of her own clothes. Then he grew entirely confused when she knelt beside the tub, grabbing the necessary bottles and things while making no indication of getting in with him.

She thought he was a bit adorable, tired and confused and with that slight lost puppy look about him. But when he opened his mouth to speak, she gently pushed him against the back of the tub with her hand on his flesh shoulder and said, "Just... try to relax."

He still looked at her with slight confusion in his eyes, but he didn't say a word. She didn't either. Instead, she focused entirely on taking care of him and literally, and hopefully figuratively too, washing the day away.

She started with his hair, and the difference that her touch made was almost immediate. He let his eyes roll shut and his whole body loosened and relaxed as she used a small cup to pour water over his head, then gently massage his shampoo into his hair. She took her time, wondering by the way his breathing evened if she was putting him to sleep.

She continued to wonder as she rinsed and then conditioned his hair, but she got her answer once she was finished with it and then drew away to grab a washcloth she had on standby. When she turned back to him, his eyes were open again and staring tiredly into space, somewhere up near the ceiling.

She frowned and reached for him, touching his face and gently turning it until his eyes drifted to hers.

"Talk to me," she said softly, almost pleading.

He blinked once, then stared over her shoulder as his lips parted slightly. It was awhile until he spoke, so in the meantime, she got the washcloth wet and worked soap into it before softly swiping it over his shoulder first, then his chest.

Then he finally said something. "He was the one that blew up your house."

Her eyes flashed up to his, and her hand stilled over his chest. "You mean... the Crossbones guy?" He nodded. "_He_ did it?"

Bucky nodded again. "Yeah."

Summer wasn't sure what to say. It was chilling to have a face and a name to ascribe the blame for that event to, even worse to know that it had been the same man who had been going around and blowing up crap seemingly indiscriminately for awhile now, but... there had to be more to why Bucky was as far away as he was.

"I wanted to kill him," Bucky said after a long pause. "I almost did."

"Why didn't you?" she asked quietly. She wouldn't have blamed or judged him if he had.

Bucky paused and looked away for a moment, then replied, "Wanda stopped me,"

Summer held back the little smile that those words brought to her face. She would have to give the woman an extra tight hug the next day.

"I'm glad," she replied, moving the washcloth again, this time down his right arm. "But I know that look in your eye. You're in the past right now."

Bucky didn't dispute her assumption. Instead, he stared off for another good few minutes before finally getting out several new words. "Seeing his face again, hearing his voice... it brought back things I didn't want to remember."

"Things... having to do with him?" she asked, now running the cloth along his neck.

"Just... times when he was there. Missions I hadn't remembered yet."

"Oh," she frowned. She saw the disgust in his eyes, that self-hatred that he didn't deserve but would likely always hold to some degree. Newly recovered memories weren't always good things. Sometimes they were simply the _worst_. 

He grew quiet again. The only sounds in the room were the rustling of water as she continued to wash him, eventually making her way to his stomach before he spoke again and made her pause.

"I trusted him. Back then. I remember feeling... _better_ if he was there."

His face twisted a bit then, maybe in confusion or just disappointment in himself, but she was quick to try to comfort him. "That's not your fault. Just like everything you did back then. None of it was your fault. You know that. And didn't Steve trust him too?"

Bucky gave the smallest of shrugs, and then as if her mention of Steve had reminded him of something, he muttered, "I couldn't even stop Steve from getting hurt today."

"Bucky," she said quietly, using her free hand to turn his face back to hers, "you're not... I don't know... Superman. Don't put all this stuff on yourself."

He looked away, even while she still held his face towards her, but she wouldn't let him drift away again. "Hey. Don't do this, okay? I know it's hard and I can't imagine what you're feeling, but... you're here. You're home. You're _you_. Nothing can change that now. Don't let that bastard get in your head."

This time, Bucky didn't look away. He stared into her determined eyes with his slightly lost ones, and she moved her fingers into his hair, willing him to stay with her and stay in the present.

But it seemed like it just wasn't enough. He may as well had been adrift, lost in memories that she was afraid to know the details of. So, she did the only thing that she could think of, which was to let go of him and sit back on her heels, then lift her shirt up over her head.

Then she stood up and undressed the rest of the way without a word and zero fuss. He wasn't so lost as to not notice _that_, and she took it as a good sign.

He watched her wordlessly but raptly as she left her clothes in a pile next to the tub and then carefully stepped into it. He shifted to make room for her, sitting up a little straighter and never taking his eyes off of her as she set herself in his lap, facing him, with her hands on his shoulders. His hands went to her hips out of habit, but he didn't make a move to touch her anywhere else or even kiss her, and that was okay, because that wasn't what this was about.

Then she said something that she knew he wasn't expecting to hear. "I'm proud of you."

His eyes softened some, but the confusion within them returned at those words. Her hands slid to his face, cradling it in her hands as she went on, "You saved lives today. And not _just_ today. You've helped so many people since you started getting better. You're so much more than those memories. Just let them go."

It was easier said than done, and she knew that. But something in her words seemed to help him on some level, and he stared up at her for one long, sweet moment before leaning his head forward and resting it on her chest. His arms wrapped around her and held her close, and hers did the same to him. She closed her eyes and laid her cheek on top of his hair, letting out a breath and wishing away every last one of his troubles as he listened to her heartbeat flutter underneath her skin.

He had come so far. They both had. And today, as far as she was concerned, was only further proof of that.

She smiled and her eyes opened when his lips began softly kissing her, just over her heart. His right hand was trailing slowly up and down over her lower back, and when she pulled away and looked down into his eyes, her smile grew. He was _there_. He hasn't slipped away into the dark abyss of his past that he had confronted earlier that day. He was home and he was safe, and exactly where he belonged, which was in her arms.

"Thank you," he said softly. She knew that those words covered many different things that he was grateful for, and they were more than enough. She answered him with a kiss.

It was slow and soft, and she could have cried in relief at the way that he responded to it. There was nothing forced or half-hearted in the way that his lips moved against hers, or the way that his hands slid back down to her hips and gripped them just enough for her to understand his intent. There was little left to say with words, and their actions always seemed to have a way of making up for anything that may have been left unsaid.

Though the kiss began lazily and slowly, as the moments dragged on, it became something else. Summer hadn't planned on this, ironically, when she had crawled into the tub with him, but it felt incredibly right now that it was happening. His worst memories came from a time in his life where he hadn't been allowed to feel _anything_. Chasing those memories away with the very definition of _feeling_, both physically and emotionally, seemed like the perfect way to keep him in the present and away from those demons that lurked in the past.

His right hand left her side to slide into her hair as he stole away her control of the kiss, deepening it and then taking her surprise by sitting up straight and shifting them suddenly. Now she was level with him, no longer leaning down to kiss him, and she broke away with a small smile to catch her breath following the change.

He didn't quite smile back, but he didn't need to. He looked at her lips, ran his thumb over them, and then looked back up into her eyes and stared at her like she was the single most precious thing he had ever seen, both in this life and his last.

Then his hand slid back into her hair and pulled her back for another kiss, one that was deep and consuming from the start, and somewhere in the midst of it all, everything started to feel okay again.

She could keep sending him off to fight his wars if this was how they ended, with him safe and sound and trusting her to take care of him through both the best and the worst of it. This made it all incredibly worth it, and she had no doubt that they would both continue to come out of each battle stronger and closer in the end. She only hoped that he was just as sure of it as she was.

**A/N: Aaaaand here we have the longest chapter yet! :D Also the longest and most difficult action scene I've ever written, and I REALLY hope you guys liked it. Action scenes will never be my forte, but hopefully it'll do lol. Also, in case anyone couldn't tell, I hate Rumlow. I _really_ hate Rumlow. Like, the only MCU character I despise more is probably Pierce. Rumlow is just... so... ugh. I'll never understand why he has fangirls. And that's coming from someone who totally understands villain love. Lol. But ANYWAY. **

**One of the guest reviewers asked last week how many more chapters are left of this story, and while I am really not sure even though I've got the rest of it all planned out, I would say probably... 15-20 more? I don't have an exact number but that's probably a pretty good estimate. And I can say that a certain portion of the plot that I have been anticipating the very most of everything in the whole story is coming up in those future chapters and I am EXCITED. We're talking actual real plot here, people. Super plotty-plotness. Lol. So anyway, yeah. Keep reading. I've got good stuff coming. Which I always say, but I mean it even more this time. :p**

**Thank you all SO MUCH for reading and reviewing. Words cannot express how grateful I am that you guys keep reading each new gigantic chapter I throw at you all. Like, seriously. You're all the BEST. And I am excited to say that wedding things are happening VERY, very soon. *chokes and dies of excitement* Also, sidenote - a bunch of italics got underlined again in the process of uploading, and I tried to fix them all but if I missed some, forgive me lol. These things really bug me. But anyways. **

**Thanks also to midnightwings96 as always for her indispensable help with EVERYTHING and being amazing and just fracking awesome. I am incredibly excited for the next few chapters, and I'll try to get back on my Monday updating schedule, but if not... I'll see you all next Tuesday-ish :D **


	38. Chapter 38

When Summer and Bucky had mutually decided to get married in six months' time, neither of them could have ever anticipated how quickly those six months would fly by.

During those months, Summer's job at the tower grew steadily busier and she got better at it with each new party or event that she planned, and she applied her new skills to the planning of the wedding. Natasha helped when she could, and Summer found two very helpful new friends in Esteban and Nicolo, who were more than happy to lend her their opinions and ideas over lunch and occasional drinks at the tower. Her little vintage farm wedding came together beautifully, but far more rapidly than she had realized it would.

In fact, the date itself all but snuck up on her. It seemed like one day she was going in for her dress fitting two months after picking it out and ordering it, and then the next, it was the _day_ before the wedding and she was in the midst of her final practice run for her surprise wedding night dance.

The process of learning the dance had begun as awkward and incredibly difficult, not just due to the nature of the dance and learning to get comfortable with the very concept of stripping, but also from getting her leg into shape and learning how to move gracefully again following her accident. It was a learning and growing process in more ways than one, and yet when Summer awoke on the eve of her wedding and went through the dance one more time in Natasha's room, she pulled it off flawlessly.

The routine ended with Summer on Natasha's lap, which she was so used to by now that there was zero weirdness involved, and she waited with bated breath as the song playing on Nat's phone died and she awaited the verdict.

"I think you're definitely ready," Natasha smiled, nothing but sincerity in her voice and pride in her eyes. "That was perfect."

"Yay!" Summer squeaked, clapping and accidentally bouncing a little, which jostled the woman underneath her. "Oh, whoops. Sorry, I'm just - oh my God, I'm so excited!"

"It's okay," Natasha assured Summer as she carefully eased off of Nat's lap. "And you _should_ be excited. Tomorrow night," she smirked, "you're going to be doing this for your _husband_ instead of just practicing in front of me."

Summer's eyes widened as she grabbed her shirt and threw it back on. "That's... _oh God_. That's so weird. I can't believe this is happening. Like... _I'm getting married tomorrow_."

"Yes you are," Nat grinned. Then she paused a moment, expression becoming a bit more serious. "And just to let you know... I'm proud of you."

Summer smiled in surprise, having gotten her pants back on, and asked, "Really?"

Natasha nodded. "One of the reasons that I encouraged you to do this was because I knew it would help your confidence. It's not easy to do what you've done, come in here three or four times a week for the last six months and practice with your level of commitment. And I don't just mean that considering your lack of dance training and your leg, although... that makes it even more impressive."

"You mean it's a big deal because I'm a giant dork who acted like an idiot the first time I had to actually remove an article of clothing in front of you," Summer guessed, smiling. Oh, how utterly painful it had been at first, and yet now it was so routine she didn't think twice about it.

"Yes, essentially," Natasha grinned back. "And even though you're doing it for him, for the wedding night, you're doing it for yourself just as much. It might seem like _just_ a dance, but for you especially... it's a lot more, and that's why I'm proud of you."

Natasha wasn't often one to dole out words like these, and that made them mean even more to Summer. She smiled _hugely_ and then couldn't help but to hug the other woman, squeezing her and pouring all of her gratitude into the hug as Natasha lightly returned the embrace.

"I just can't thank you enough," Summer gushed as she drew away. "You are literally the best maid of honor ever."

Nat chuckled a little at her enthusiasm, then blinked and said, "Oh, that reminds me. I got some things for tonight."

"You mean for my bachelorette party that nobody will tell me about?" Summer asked, following Natasha to her closet across the room. The whole operation was extremely top secret, and that made Summer quite terrified as to what the night would entail.

"Yes, that," Nat replied, reaching her closet and then pulling out a bag from within it. Then she turned around and said, "I've never done this before, as you know, but I figured you should have the traditional bachelorette experience. So I got these things."

Summer then watched as Natasha pulled out a sparkly, pink fuzzy-trimmed tiara with the word "bride" spelled out big and brightly, and then in addition to that, a white sash with the words "bride to be" written in cursive. Summer opened her mouth in a big, happy smile and said, "Oh my God! You didn't have to do that!"

"Oh yes I did," Natasha replied, reaching in and pulling out one more thing. "And I got something for me, too."

In her hand was a big button with the words "maid of honor" written in big, cute letters, and Summer grinned and said, "Oh, you're definitely wearing that. I want that in pictures of us getting ready tomorrow, too. And all night tonight, of course."

Natasha smiled and nodded her agreement, then looked down and turned the button over in her hand. Her eyes grew more thoughtful for a moment, and then she said quietly, "I've never gotten to wear anything like this before. Can't say I ever thought I would."

"Well," Summer said, "I never thought I'd find someone who actually wanted to marry me, so... this is definitely a first for us both."

Nat smiled back. "Yeah. I guess I'm just still getting used to the idea of having friends. You don't really get to have those, doing what I do."

"Then I'm glad I get to be the exception to that rule," Summer replied. "And actually, I'm not used to having friends either. I had some in high school, but they either sided with Mark after we broke up or I just lost touch with them after I had David. Nobody really wanted to hang out with me once I was a boring and broke single parent."

Natasha nodded understandingly, then furrowed her brows as she looked back down at the button. "I learned to keep my distance a long time ago. I had a friend when I was a girl. We were both... raised by the same people, in the same place. I made it, but she didn't. They made an example out of her, and..." She shrugged, unwilling to go on, and Summer didn't need to hear anymore to understand.

"... That is infinitely worse than my story," Summer said quietly. "I'm sorry."

Natasha shrugged, years of emotional control and acceptance for the reality of her life settling back on her face. "At least now you know why I wasn't very nice to you at first."

"Oh, I totally get that," Summer waved her off. "And I wouldn't say you weren't nice, you were just... kind of scary. Well, _really_ scary. Very aloof. Cold as a giant Popsicle."

"... I'm not sure that's much better."

They both laughed quietly. "Well, maybe not, but I still totally get it. I mean, I could have been a psycho or who knows what else. So you were right to be that way. Even though I did die a little inside every time I ended up in a room alone with you because you scared me so much. You do realize you're the single scariest Avenger, right?"

Nat chuckled again. "I've been told. Though I do think Banner has the edge on me there, honestly."

"Well, I still haven't met him, so," Summer shrugged. Then she paused. "Why _haven't_ I met him yet?"

"He's... taking an extended vacation," Natasha replied. "But I'm sure you'll meet him someday."

"Hopefully when he's not green," Summer smiled. "But no, I think your scariness is a good thing. And hey, even David's used to you now."

"He is," Nat agreed. "He doesn't run and hide when I walk in the room anymore."

Summer nodded happily. "Or throw little tiny Lokis at your head."

They'd all come a long way, that was for sure. And now, in only a day, Summer would be starting a brand new journey. Somehow, it didn't terrify her - she was simply incredibly _excited_.

After chatting a bit more and trying on her cheesy but adorable bride tiara, Summer gave Nat another hug - because she just couldn't help herself - and then with a spring in her step, headed back to Bucky's room. It was nearly ten in the morning now and he was still asleep, having been up late the night before keeping up with his mostly-secret vigilante activities. But there were things to be done today, and he had to wake up soon if they were going to stay on schedule.

Quietly opening his door and slipping inside his room, Summer couldn't help but smile at the sight of Bucky curled up like a cat under the covers. He was in the same position he'd been in when she'd left, facing the side she normally slept on and sleeping so peacefully that she wouldn't have believed it was even possible a year ago. She almost didn't want to wake him, but, being the eve of the wedding and all... he could sleep later.

Knowing better than to wake him up with any sudden sounds or movements - which was a one way ticket to an accidental punch in the face, which she had avoided thus far - Summer settled into bed next to him, facing his back. She first gently brushed a few stray hairs off of his forehead, then ran her hand along his shoulder before pressing a kiss to the edge of his cheek.

"Wake up, sleepy... Avenger... vigilante... soldier... muffin," she babbled, furrowing her brows with each new word and deciding that she really needed to work on her pet names.

He merely groaned and ignored her, probably not even hearing a word she said.

"Oh come on," she kissed his cheek again, then his neck. "We're getting married tomorrow. Lots to do today."

He groaned again, but this time he rolled over on his back, blinking up at her as he fought to open his eyes. She smiled and kept playing with his bed-ruffled hair as he slowly woke up.

"Why are you awake?" he asked, voice rough and eyes briefly closing again.

"Well, it's ten, and I wasn't up all night beating up scumbags in alleyways, so..."

He didn't say anything, his eyes closing for good this time as he began drifting off again. She smiled and gently shook him. "Hey! Come on, seriously. We've gotta drive all the way to the farm and back today. Rehearsal, remember?"

He grumbled and nodded, opening his eyes again and looking up at her with a mixture of acceptance and annoyance. "Yeah, yeah, I know."

"Good," she said, leaning down and placing an entirely innocent and chaste kiss on his lips, which successfully wiped away all traces of irritation on his face. "Now I'm gonna go get ready to leave."

She flashed him a smile and then turned and started to get off the bed, but the moment she tried to swing her leg off, she heard the familiar sound of Bucky's metal arm whirring to life and then felt it slide around her waist and pull her right back.

"Hey!" she playfully protested, grinning as Bucky turned on his side towards her and pulled her close, keeping his arm tight around her so she couldn't escape even if she wanted to. "We really don't have time for this."

"Time for what?" he asked, voice still sleepy as he grinned at her. He ran his metal hand up and down the back of her shirt before slipping up under it, the chill of his fingers making her shiver a little.

"For... things," she smiled, closing her eyes when he responded by kissing her softly and then letting his hand wander to her hip. He gripped it gently and pulled her tightly against him, guiding her leg over his hip in the process, and she chuckled and broke away from the kiss at the contact of a certain _eager_ part of him.

"My God," she giggled softly as his kisses wandered down along her neck. She leaned her head back so he could reach better and asked, "Were you dreaming something _good_?"

He shook his head and then grumbled against her collarbone, "We haven't had sex in a month, plus it's morning."

"It hasn't been a _month_," she pointed out, biting her lip as he shifted her on her back and then climbed over her, all while keeping her leg slung over his hip. He kissed her again, and then she said, "It's been two weeks."

He shook his head and kissed her once more, more deeply than before, and when he drew away for a breath, he looked down at her and said, "It's been more than two weeks."

"No," she continued to argue, her fingers sliding through his messy hair as he started kissing his way down her neck. "Because remember that time in the middle of the day, when David was trying to teach Vision how to play Mario Kart and I came in here to grab my phone and you followed me, then closed the door and put me on your desk and... yeah?"

"That was like _two_ months ago," Bucky said, glancing up at her as he pulled her shirt up as high as he could get it without taking it off.

"No, it was two weeks ago," she laughed, though her giggles became breathy sighs as he impatiently yanked at one of the cups of her bra and then dipped his head down to replace the fabric with his mouth.

"Too long either way," he muttered between kisses and teasing flicks of his tongue, and though Summer couldn't agree more, this hadn't happened on purpose. They'd just been so _busy_, and most nights one or both of them fell asleep before anything could happen.

Her back arched slightly under his touches, and she wrapped her legs tighter around his hips as they started rocking into hers. Soft but deep noises left his throat in the process, and then when he raised his head and started kissing her again, she got the feeling that just this would be enough to do it for him, clothes still on and all. And that was fine, because it had been a long two weeks for her too, and she wouldn't have a problem being satisfied with this either.

But just as they were hitting their stride, working out a rhythm that worked for them both, her phone rang in the pocket of her pants. The annoying-on-purpose wedding bells ringtone meant that it was a call she couldn't ignore.

"Crap, crap, crap," she muttered, pushing him away and scrambling to get her phone. He didn't get the hint at first, so she had to push him again, and as he rolled off of her with a highly annoyed groan and laid next to her, she answered the call with a chipper, "Hello?"

But Bucky didn't seem to care much that she was on the phone, since he went right back to kissing her neck and sliding his right hand up her stomach as she tried to pay attention to the call. She batted his hand away, but he put it right back where it had been, and a whispered "_Stop_!" got her only a half grin and a whole lot more kisses on the parts of her neck that made her entire body shiver.

"There's a problem with what?" she asked, trying to focus on what the voice on the other end was saying. "No, it _has_ to be gluten free. I've got a niece with a gluten allergy. Yeah. No, I already had this worked out before, so I don't know why..." Bucky's sharp little nip to her neck made her trail off mid-sentence.

She stopped talking for a moment to glare at Bucky in a way that she hoped was threatening, but he merely grinned in that slightly devious way of his and then started kissing behind her ear. His hand on her stomach slid up, over her bra and between her breasts, then slowly went back down until his fingertips grazed the waist band of her pants.

_If he even dared_... "Yeah, I understand, but I've had this order in for like two months now, so if there's a last minute issue then getting my money back is the least of my problem. _Yes_, it's tomorrow."

Meanwhile, Bucky nipped at her earlobe and did, in fact, dare to slip his hand where it shouldn't have gone in that particular moment. She clenched her jaw and grabbed his arm with her free hand, intending to stop him, but then he raised his head to look at her challengingly, eyes hooded and a small smirk on his face. A little flick of his wrist later, she let go of him and instead covered her mouth with her hand, so she didn't do something humiliating like gasp or moan into the phone and freak out the baker on the other end.

Later on, she was going to _kill_ him for this.

"Yes," she said in response to the baker, eyes closed, voice a little too high pitched as Bucky continued his untimely assault. "I, uh... wait, what did you say?"

Bucky chuckled against her neck, and she gave his metal shoulder the weakest slap possible in response. It was like barely tapping a toaster. He probably didn't even feel it.

"Okay," she said, gritting her teeth and trying so hard to not make any noises that she was pretty sure she was about to burst a vein in her forehead. "Right, you know, actually, let me call you back later. No, it's okay. Yeah. I'll call you back. Okay, thanks. Bye."

She then hung up and tossed her phone so hard that it ended up on the floor as she grabbed Bucky by the back of his hair and forced his head up so she could glare at him. "I'm going to kill you. You're _dead_."

He only had time to grin widely before she pulled him down for a furious kiss, letting herself moan into it now that she wasn't on the phone anymore. He groaned against her lips just as loudly and sped up his movements, getting back on top of her and almost whining in relief when she, rather than kill him or otherwise punish him, put her hand to good use right with him. His reaction was immediate, all open-mouth gasping and soft moaning against her lips, and she was amazed at how desperate just two weeks could make him.

And then, like clockwork, there was a soft knock on the door. Summer froze, Bucky didn't, and he whined quietly at her sudden stop, but she held up her hand to shush him as she listened. There was another knock, and then she whispered, "That's David's knock."

Bucky's face then fell and he groaned like she had just told him that an asteroid was hitting the planet and everyone would be dead by morning. He rolled off of her and landed heavily on his back, throwing his right arm over his eyes. Summer tried not to smile, running her hand over his chest and whispering, "I'm sorry." Then she fixed her clothes and got up, feeling more than a little bereft herself but feeling especially bad for Bucky as he visibly tried to calm his breathing and threw the covers over his lower half to mask the sight of his his very-prominent need.

Summer couldn't help but smile to herself as she made her way to the door. Perhaps this was just the universe's way of keeping them on the edge before their wedding day, making that night all the better for desperate they would be for each other after all of these interruptions. Plus with what she had up her sleeve for that night... it was certainly a recipe for something quite spectacular.

She opened the door and smiled at the little boy standing there, half asleep himself and looking at her quite displeased for having not been around when he had apparently woken up. She ruffled his hair and said, "Hey, sweetie. Go on in the kitchen, okay? I'll be right behind you."

He merely stared at her, clearly not wanting to do this, so Summer added, "Guess what? We're going to the farm today, remember? And we've gotta leave soon, so go on and I'll be there in like two minutes."

With this, David relented, though not enthusiastically at all, and as he trudged off towards the kitchen, Summer left the door slightly ajar and headed back to the bed, where Bucky still laid in all of of his frustrated dejection.

She leaned down over him and pulled his arm off of his eyes to lay a gentle kiss on his lips, then smiled, "Sorry. But I've gotta get going, and so do you."

He half-glared at her. "_Getting going_ isn't the problem, Summer."

She rather poorly stifled a laugh. "I know. I really am sorry. But... welcome to parenthood, I guess?" When he merely continued to glower and pout slightly, she sighed and gestured vaguely towards the bathroom and said, "Just... when you're in the shower, just... you know. But make it fast because we have to leave."

He narrowed his eyes at her and immediately replied, "Why don't you just get in there with me?"

She smiled at his irritated expression and said, "I've gotta go feed David, and call back a baker who's trying to make our gluten free cake full of gluten. So... you're on your own."

Summer then grinned and tried to dash away, but Bucky caught her hand and managed to pull her back down halfway to the bed. He kissed her insistently, like he was trying to convince her to stay, but as much as she would like to, she truly just could not.

She broke away with a smile and untangled his arms around her as she stood back up. "I am officially running late. Go take your shower. Think of me... uh... I don't know. Think of me doing _something_. Then hurry up and get done so we can leave." She kissed him one more time. "Okay bye."

Summer then successfully managed to escape his clutches and leave his room, looking back over her shoulder and throwing him a grin in the process. After she closed the door and cheerfully headed to the kitchen, Bucky rolled his eyes and smothered his own face with a pillow.

About fifteen minutes later, when Bucky emerged from his room and came shuffling out into the kitchen with his glower still distinctly in place, Summer smiled brightly and jumped up from the table to hand him the cup of coffee she'd fixed for him already. She continued to smile happily as she handed it to him, and as he merely eyed her quite neutrally and suspiciously, she chirped, "Have a good shower?"

He took a sip and then replied, "Yes. I _love_ cold ones."

She furrowed her brows and dropped her voice down so that nobody else could hear her. "But why do that when you could have just..."

"Because," he said, leaning in and whispering his next words into her ear, "you're rushing me out the door, and I prefer to take my time. Even with myself."

_Good Lord_. Knowing that her face was surely an extremely bright red, Summer gulped slightly as he pulled away to enjoy her reaction. She merely floundered for a bit before, to her immediate regret, giving him the thumbs up and saying, "Super. Good to know."

She then closed her eyes, turned around, then opened them just to roll them at herself so hard that it hurt. It really was entirely too easy for him to reduce her to awkward gestures and stupid words.

But, she forced herself to recover quickly, because she had a rehearsal to do and then, after they got back to the city, an honest to God bachelorette party to start.

She could blush and flail over God knew what _later_. For then, it was time to hit the road, and _maybe_ mentally scream a little about how one of her song choices for her dance might have just became even more appropriate than it already was.

* * *

Paul shifted on his feet and muttered, "I can't believe this is actually happening."

"What, that I'm getting married tomorrow," Summer asked, "or that I'm marrying someone we read about in sixth grade history class?"

"... Both?"

Summer chuckled and continued to hold Paul's arm as they stood outside, on an open stretch of grass on Clint's farm, where Summer would be walking down the "aisle" the next day. They were waiting for the others to get in position, namely Bucky and Clint, so Summer and Paul simply stood there and chatted as they waited for their cue.

Tomorrow, there would be an archway just up ahead, flowers galore, and every single person who was important in both Summer and Bucky's life would be present. The closer this day came to closing, the giddier Summer got, but it was only mid-afternoon and there was still plenty to go.

"Well," Paul sighed, "at least you won't be living in sin anymore."

"Very true," Summer nodded. "That's always a plus."

"Can I assume that the babies are gonna start popping out soon?" Paul asked.

"Well, I am officially off the shot," Summer replied. "Ovaries are back in full force, so..."

Paul grimaced. "You're probably already preggo and you don't even know it yet."

"Nope," Summer shook her head, "because since I've been all the way off of it, we haven't done anything. So I can't be."

Paul looked at her with wide eyes. "Hold the phone. Have you been doing that thing they do on TV shows where the engaged couple stops defiling each other to make the wedding night feel somehow more special?"

"No," she rolled her eyes. "We just haven't had time."

"Good. Keep not having time," Paul replied, and Summer chuckled with a roll of her eyes. "Hey, did he ever get his, uh... boys checked out, like you said he was going to?"

Summer looked at him in confusion. "His what?"

"His boys," Paul repeated. "His swimmers."

"Oh," Summer grinned, stifling an unattractive snort. "Yes he did. He got that done awhile ago, before I stopped the shot."

"And?"

"And he's, um... all good," Summer smiled awkwardly. "Everything appears to be normal. Perfectly fertile. I mean, the serum _might_ affect a baby somehow, but as far as... his boys... they're all right."

"Good." Paul paused. "I think."

She smiled. "Yeah, well, want some news you'll definitely think is good?"

"Hit me," Paul nodded.

"I got my draft finished, and I sent it off to a bunch of publishers," Summer grinned, watching her brother's face first light up in shock before giving way to sheer pride.

"_No_. Really? Don't mess with me, Summer. Lying isn't nice."

"It's totally true," she beamed. "I mean, I'm expecting nothing but rejection, but -"

She was then cut off by a huge and unexpected hug. Paul knocked the wind out of her, squeezing the life out her as well, for good measure, and she laughed as he said, "I am _so_ proud of you. I really am. You finally did it."

She laughed, patting his shoulder as he pulled away. "Well, I haven't done it yet. Somebody's gotta publish it first."

"No, you've done it," he insisted. "Regardless of who picks it up or how long it takes. You did it. You _wrote a book_."

"I know," she smiled excitedly. "I still can't believe it."

Then Clint was calling after them, now standing with Bucky where the arch would be the next day. "All right. Ready?"

Summer nodded, taking Paul's arm again, and she turned her full attention back to the task at hand. First down the imaginary aisle was David, who would also be fulfilling the role of ringbearer. Marina was flower girl and would be carried down the aisle by her oldest sister, but they weren't present, so their parts were skipped. Next came Steve and Natasha, walking together as Summer had decided that she liked the tradition of the best man escorting the maid of honor to the altar. Once they made their way there and took their places, it was Summer and Paul's turn, and she looked up at him and grinned, "Ready to walk me down the aisle?"

"Nope," he sighed, "but here goes anyway."

And so, both of them wearing stupid grins, they began their practice run of the fateful walk that would be taking place the next day. Summer's eyes immediately went to Bucky, standing there in his jeans and dark t-shirt and watching her walk to him with a mixture of affection and amusement in his eyes. She repressed the sudden urge to make a stupid face or stick her tongue out and cross her eyes, that giddiness starting to make its way to the surface at a rather bad time. Then again, better to get it out of her system now than when they doing it for real the next day.

Once they made their way to the imaginary arch, Paul sighed and led Summer to stand next to Bucky, facing him, and he sighed heavily before saying, "I feel like I should give one last threatening speech now. So I don't have to tomorrow."

"Go ahead," Summer said, rolling her eyes.

Paul nodded and turned back to Bucky with a cheerful smile. "Okay. As always, I will find you and I will kill you if you hurt her. You will die slowly and painfully, even more so now that you're marrying her. Like, before I would have just beaten you to death or something. Now I'll draw and quarter you like they did in the old days."

Bucky nodded without hesitation. "Understood."

"Awesome," Paul smiled. "Okay, guess I'll... give you away now."

He then let go of Summer's arm, allowing her to take Bucky's hand, and Paul then promptly burst into fake, overly dramatic tears as he stepped away. Summer laughed at her brother's theatrics, then turned back to Bucky and felt her smile shrink to one that was a little bit more serious as they looked into each other's eyes.

Then Clint cleared his throat and said, "So then this is when I say that we're gathered here today to witness the union of two very... _loud_ individuals..."

"Clint," Natasha smiled, tone amused.

"... Who have an unnatural affection for barns and -"

"Clint," she said again, slightly firmer this time, but still smiling. Summer couldn't help but blush slightly embarrassed, though Bucky just rolled his eyes.

"Fine," Clint sighed. "Flowery speech about how special it is that these two lovely people found each other despite the odds, which were a hell of longshot, and all that good stuff. Did you guys write vows or do I need to print out some generic ones?"

"We wrote our own," Summer said, grinning excitedly at Bucky. He drew a breath and smiled back nervously, and she knew why. He hadn't been silent about his struggle with writing his, but when she offered to switch to traditional ones to save him the angst, he had outright refused.

"Sweet. All right, so then vows, rings, kiss, married, bam. Tears everywhere."

On cue, Paul started wailing, and Summer cracked up all over again. Even Bucky let out a chuckle or two, and then Clint clarified, "Actually, I meant Cap over here. We all know he's going to be sobbing like it's _his_ wedding day."

Behind Bucky, Steve shrugged. "Guess we'll find out tomorow."

"I think it's safe to say that I'm going to be the one sobbing," Summer said, voice suddenly wobbly, "because I'm _already_ about to cry like an idiot."

Sure enough, as soon as the words came out of her mouth, the waterworks turned on, and Bucky smiled warmly at her sudden burst of emotion before pulling her closer by her hands and then wrapping his arms around her in a sweet hug. David, who had been distracted almost the entire time by a cat that was prowling about, saw the opportunity for a group hug and took it.

"Aw, isn't this sweet," Clint said, gesturing to the little family standing in front of him. "This is hell on my allergies."

"You don't have allergies," Natasha pointed out.

Clint nodded. "Exactly."

Summer smiled, sniffing back the rogue tears and pulling away, one arm around each of her boys as she said, "Okay, I'm good. I think. For now, anyway."

David beamed up at them both, fully aware of everything that was going on and every bit as excited as Summer was, maybe even more, if that was possible. Then he looked down at the cat that was back and pawing at his leg, and Summer turned her eyes back to Bucky and grinned as Clint tried to get the rehearsal back on track.

"So yeah... this is when you'll swap spit and then skip back down the aisle the way you came," Clint said, and Summer had all of two seconds to catch the glint in Bucky's eye before he was kissing her, though that was the _last_ thing they needed to practice.

She giggled into the kiss, which was relatively short and chaste, and when they parted, Steve remarked to Bucky, "I hope you've got something better planned for the real thing."

Bucky glanced over his shoulder and said with one eyebrow raised, "Didn't know you were the wedding kiss expert."

"Well, I'm just saying," Steve grinned, shrugging. "Gotta make it count."

Bucky rolled his eyes slightly and then turned back to Summer, taking her hand in his and then turning them back towards the aisle. She smiled, imagining doing this tomorrow knowing they were really and truly _married_, and as a result, she kind of did actually skip a little bit.

The others cheered for them, leading both Bucky and Summer to glance back and give them amused looks, and then they turned back to each other and stopped walking when they reached the point where Summer had began with Paul.

He gave her hand a squeeze and kissed her again. She felt her heart soar even higher than it already was, and when he drew away, she saw the same happiness reflected in his eyes.

"We're really doing this," she said quietly and wholly excitedly.

"Not having second thoughts are you?" he teased.

She shook her head. "You know I'm not. How about you?"

"Only about getting married here," he joked before gesturing behind her. "That chicken that hates you is right behind you."

Summer's eyes widened as she whipped around and came face to beak with Matt Damon himself, the angry rooster who attacked her at every opportunity, who had apparently escaped his confines and was now bobbing his ugly little head her way. His evil intent was clear from the malicious glint in his beady eyes - or so she would swear - and as she let go of Bucky's hands and ran away screeching, Clint sighed and started chasing after the rooster.

"That's it, you ugly little bastard," Clint yelled at the rogue chicken, who was indeed chasing Summer and trying to divebomb her feet. "I'm cooking you for dinner."

"And _Good Will Hunting_ was overrated!" Summer yelled just as Clint grabbed the bird and saved her from sure peril. She stopped running and then glared at it as it flapped its wings and tried to get free, but Clint merely held it tighter and marched it back to the coops, muttering about recipes for chicken pot pie.

No longer in imminent danger, Summer looked at Bucky and kept a straight face for all of three seconds before bursting into new gales of laughter. The best part of it all was that he laughed right along with her, and she would never take for granted seeing that smile on his face or hearing a real laugh bubble out of his chest.

She was certain that she was going to be the happiest bride in the world, crazed chickens seeking her demise and all.

* * *

Later on, after they all made their way back to the city, Bucky was in his room quietly changing clothes and listening to Summer putter about in his bathroom. She had been in there for a good twenty minutes, and he was exercising a decent amount of self control in leaving her alone to get ready for her night out on the town. But, after awhile, he really couldn't help himself.

Figuring he could always use the excuse of needing to fix his hair, he sauntered into the bathroom and almost immediately forgot what he was even trying to do. Summer looked up at him, curling iron in hand as she worked on her hair, and she smiled as she sang along to some awful pop song playing on her phone.

Then she reached down and turned off the song, also releasing the lock of hair wrapped around the iron as she asked, "Was I being too loud?"

"No," he shook his head, running his eyes from the top of her head to the bottom of her feet. It wasn't that he hadn't expected her to dress to her very best that night. It was just that even after all this time, he still couldn't help but stop and stare every time she did.

For their supposed "last night of freedom", Summer was wearing a dress he hadn't seen before, a slinky dark purple number with a partially open back and hem that left most of her legs on display. It ended up being those very legs that drew his eyes the longest, and for a moment, he couldn't quite tell why. But then it hit him.

His long moments of staring wordlessly had apparently begun to concern her. "Do I look okay, or..."

"Yeah," he assured her quickly, nodding as his eyes stayed glued to her legs. "You look great. It's just..."

"... Just _what_?"

"Your legs," he finally blurted. "_Look_ at them."

In the midst of curling another piece of hair, she looked down in sudden mild panic and asked, "Did I miss a spot shaving them?"

"_No_," he said in exasperation. "They're... what kind of exercises are you _doing_ in therapy?"

She blinked a few times, putting the curling iron down. "Um... just the usual stuff, I guess."

He doubted that somehow. More importantly though, how had he not noticed before how suddenly well-defined and shapely they were? She used to complain about them being too thin, but that certainly wasn't the case now.

He came closer to her, glancing at the counter to make sure the curling iron was far away before he gently grabbed her and set her on the counter to get a more up close look at her legs. She let out a surprised breath and clutched his shoulders, then smiled as he ran his hand down the leg that he'd once lifted a car off of. The scars were fading still, and it didn't look like it used to, but it was whole again and _strong_.

His hand slid from her outer thigh to her knee, then under her leg so that he lift it and examine all of it. As he did, he remarked, "They look incredible."

"You usually say that when you're looking up here," she smiled, gesturing to her chest.

He looked up and noticed this, then grinned and said, "Well, those too, but..." he ran his fingertips down to her shoe, black closed-toe with a small kitten heel. "... Damn."

"Hey," she smiled, "don't get too carried away because I've gotta leave in like ten min-"

He cut her off with a kiss that had her silent in an instant. Ten minutes was more than enough time to finish what they'd started earlier, as far as he was concerned, and besides, it was _their_ parties. They could be late if they wanted to be.

Summer didn't seem to agree, however, and after that first kiss had quickly turned into many, she gently pushed him away and said breathily, "_Whoa_, there. We don't -"

He cut her off again with another kiss, one that she moaned into this time before seemingly relenting and pulling him closer. Standing between her legs and sliding his hands up her hips, venturing under her dress, he was sure that he'd convinced her and that this was finally happening. He was so confident, in fact, that when he broke the kiss to take a breath and then start kissing her neck, he also started tugging at her underwear with one hand while his other went to his own belt. But, to his dismay, she stopped him long before he could get anywhere with either.

"My phone just went off," she said with a faint giggle, reaching across the counter to grab said phone as he groaned in frustration.

"Just leave it," he pled to no avail, pulling away to watch her read a text, knowing that he probably looked a bit like a kicked puppy and hoping that she noticed. Then when she started typing a reply, he slid one of his hands back under her dress and started kissing down her throat. "Come on..."

He thought for _sure_ that she would give in. But all she did was groan softly and grip the back of his hair as she said, "But that was Nat, and they're all outside waiting for me."

"Just give me ten minutes," he said, raising his head level with hers. "They can wait."

He could tell how utterly torn she was. "But she said we have to leave now. It's like time sensitive. I don't know why, because I don't know where we're going, but..."

It was time to break out the big guns. He silenced her with another kiss, this one softer and slower than the others, and he waited to pull away until she stopped trying to squirm away and instead whimpered into the kiss. His forehead against hers, he cradled her face in his hands and murmured in his most deliberately seductive voice, "_Please_, baby, I need you."

The way that she looked up at him and choked on the breath she was taking was incredibly satisfying, but not nearly as satisfying as the way that she then pulled him back down and kissed him hungrily, fully giving in at last. He could have cried in relief, and yet, even _that_ ended up being incredibly short lived.

No sooner had she kissed him when her phone rang next to them, loud and impossible to ignore. He growled against her lips and reached out to grab the thing and _maybe_ throw it at the wall or at least turn the ringer off, but Summer ended up grabbing it first. She broke their kiss and put the phone to her ear, cheeks bright red and expression as irritated as his was. "Hello?"

He tried to ignore the phone call entirely and simply keep kissing her, touching everywhere he could and doing his best to keep her exactly where she was. It worked until it didn't.

"I know, I know, I just - what? You can hear him _breathing_?" She squinted. Bucky paused and looked up at her, and she then blinked and said, "... Okay."

She then put the phone on speaker, and Bucky proceeded to listen to Natasha tell him in their shared Russian tongue to get off of Summer and let her have her damn bachelorette party in peace or face her wrath. He wanted to scoff and tell her in no uncertain terms what she could do with herself, but Natasha had a way with words and, in this instance, managed to convince him that Summer really was on a timetable tonight and needed to go. This was one of those circumstances when he needed to put her needs before his own, regardless of how... _pressing_ they were.

"_I hate you_," he muttered, answering in Russian, and Natasha laughed before hanging up.

Summer put her phone down slowly and looked at Bucky cautiously as he drew away, face slightly pained as he begrudgingly accepted his fate. He fixed the bottom of her dress for her as she bit her lip and said, "I am _so_ sorry. I don't mean for this to keep happening."

He shrugged, helping her down from the counter. "It's okay."

"No it's not," she replied, eyes darting down to his pants and then back up again. "And now _I'm_ dying too because you broke out your stupid sex voice."

He forced out a chuckle. "Sorry."

She leaned up and kissed him softly, hands gently holding him after she pulled away. "Well... I mean, I guess we should just look at it this way - pretty soon it's gonna be just the two of us for an entire week, so we can definitely make up for today and then some. Right?"

It didn't help his immediate problem, but he couldn't argue with her logic. He also couldn't _wait_ for that week. "Yeah. You're right. I'm fine, just go. Have fun."

She frowned but nodded anyway, giving him one more quick kiss and muttering one more apology before grabbing her phone and all but running out of the bathroom.

He followed her into his bedroom, hands in his pockets as he watched her grab her purse and stuff her phone into it, then turn and look at him with that same apologetic, slightly horrified but also somehow incredibly cute expression.

"Um... have fun with the guys," she smiled. "I'd say don't get too drunk, but you can't get drunk, so... uh..."

He nodded. "Have fun, too. Be safe."

"I will. And don't worry about me. I've got a taser and several superheroes with me," she grinned before kissing him one more time and then darting for the door.

She chirped an _I love you_ on her way out the door, and he smiled and said one back just before the door closed and she was gone. The smile then dropped from his face, and he turned around and slammed his head into the nearest wall.

What a way to kick off a bachelor party.

* * *

"Holy crap, a _limo_!"

Summer had not been expecting a sleek black limousine of all things to be waiting for her once she reached the sidewalk outside of Avengers Tower, but as fate would have it, that was exactly what the four girls joining her tonight were all standing next to.

"It's one of the perks of having a CEO in your bachelorette party," Pepper smiled, laughing when the very exuberant Summer hugged her in sudden gratitude.

"You are the best boss ever," she gushed before turning to Natasha, who was prominently wearing her maid of honor button on the little black dress that she was wearing. "Hey, Nat, do you have my..."

"Right here," Natasha grinned, producing Summer's bride tiara out of seemingly nowhere. "The sash is inside the limo."

Summer squealed a little, slipping the silly but awesome tiara on her head and then grinning widely at Darcy and Wanda, who rounded out her little guest list. "Okay. Now that I look the part... where are we going?"

"Oh no," Darcy shook her head, opening the limo door and physically hustling Summer inside. "It's a surprise. No hints."

"But," Summer protested to no avail, eyes widening at the luxurious interior of the limo before refocusing on the other girls as they slid inside, one by one. "Oh, come on. Somebody tell me _something_. Nat?"

Natasha, getting in last, closed the door and shook her head with a grin. "Nope."

Wanda had ended up sitting next to Summer, sandwiched between her and Darcy, so Summer asked her, "Can you give me a _hint_?"

Wanda shook her head. "They told me nothing."

"We didn't," Darcy confirmed. "And we have our reasons."

Once the limo had pulled out incredibly smoothly into traffic, Pepper was getting to work uncorking a terrifyingly expensive bottle of champagne, and Summer was starting to get nervous.

"Guys?" she asked, eyes slightly wide as they darted around the four women. "Um... should I take all this secrecy to mean that you're taking me somewhere super embarrassing? Because I swear to God, if you're taking me to like Magic Mike..."

Natasha waved her off, though the way that Pepper choked slightly on her glass of champagne was concerning. "Just trust us, Summer."

"What is Magic Mike?" Wanda asked, expression mildly confused and increasingly nervous the more anxious Summer got.

"A highly overrated movie," Darcy explained. "Seriously, there's like twenty minutes total of dudes stripping, and then the rest is all wah-wah boring crap. But I'm also not that into Channing Tatum. His face is too small for his head. Tiny face, giant head. Weird."

This didn't seem to help Wanda understand. "_What_?"

"So," Natasha smiled, changing the subject as everybody got a glass of champagne, "this time tomorrow, Summer, you'll probably be finishing up your reception."

Now it was Summer's turn to choke on her champagne. "Holy crap, you're right. Actually, we'll probably already be at the cottage." Just in case anyone wasn't aware, Summer explained, "We're spending the night at a cottage like an hour away from Clint's farm, then leaving for our honeymoon the next day."

"_Honeymoon_," Darcy sing-songed with a knowing grin. "Bet you can't wait for that. You guys are never alone."

"We've basically never been alone," Summer nodded. "I'm not sure we'll even know what to do with ourselves." She paused. "I'm totally kidding. We'll bang everywhere."

"Just try to keep the house in one piece," Pepper pled with amusement. "Tony does like to spend a week or two at the house, every few... well, it's been awhile, but still."

"Oh, of course," Summer assured her. She and Bucky were being treated to an essentially free honeymoon spent at a very private, very expensive vacation home of Tony's at a picturesque lake in Georgia. She hadn't expected a wedding gift of that magnitude from Tony, but he had never forgotten how Bucky had saved Pepper's life the previous year. He and Bucky were still not friends in the traditional sense, but there was a respect and tolerance there that allowed them to work together and coexist without incident.

"I hope you guys have a good cleaning crew down there in Georgia," Darcy remarked before taking a long sip of her champagne. "Just saying..."

"You know, I know everybody makes comments like that about us, but it's really not that hard to stay clean and not - wait a minute." Summer narrowed her eyes, and Wanda watched her with ever-increasing concern. "You're all distracting me, aren't you?"

"We're already almost there," Nat grinned.

"But where is _there_?" She then nudged Wanda's shoulder and said, "Hey, read Darcy's mind for me."

Darcy scrambled away to the other side of the seats so fast it made Summer blink in surprise. "Oh hell no. That's cheating, you little... cheater!"

"Well, can you blame me?" Summer laughed. "You're all being extremely weird and I can only assume that it means you're taking me to a..."

Summer trailed off when she realized that the limo was no longer moving. She then nearly pressed her face to the window and peered up at the building they were stopped in front of, and it was in that moment that she realized exactly what she was in for that night.

She turned back to the three excited and apparently quite evil women sitting across from her, and she groaned, "Oh my God. I was right."

Next to Summer, Wanda looked back and forth between her and the others and asked, "Where are we?"

Summer glanced at her and answered, "A deep dark abyss full of pain and humiliation."

Darcy rolled her eyes. "More like a building full of abs and thongs with dollar bills sticking out."

Thankfully, Natasha at last spelled it out for poor Wanda, who looked more and more scared the more she heard. "We're at a strip club."

Natasha then opened the door, leading the way for them to start filing out, and Summer met Wanda's now-knowing and equally nervous expression. "I'm just going to go ahead and assume you've never been to one of these."

She shook her head. "No. Definitely not."

Summer took a deep breath and then patted Wanda's hand. "Me neither. Which means we're _really_ in for it."

"Come on, losers!" Darcy yelled from outside of the limo. "Big show starts in like ten minutes!"

Summer cringed, but ever the brave soul, she adjusted the crown on her head - which she knew made her a clear and distinct target once she was inside the place - and led Wanda out of the limo with a courageous, "Okay. You're a superhero, and I'm marrying a superhero. We can handle male strippers. Let's do this."

Wanda wasn't quite sure, but she followed Summer out of the vehicle all the same, and thus began a night Summer would never forget.

* * *

Meanwhile, back at the tower and on the very top floor, in the room normally reserved for much larger parties or, generally, whatever the hell Tony wanted, Steve was playing bartender. Or, more accurately, he was digging up the very best of Tony's private stock of liquor, mostly whiskey, and setting it all on top of the bar and then grinning proudly as he said, "All right. Did anyone find the glasses?"

"Right here," Sam said, carrying over four glasses and setting them down next to the array of bottles. "Even though drinking's kind of redundant for you guys, but..."

Bucky, ignoring the inherent bummers of being physically unable to get even buzzed from all the alcohol in the world, reached forward for one of the bottles only to get a smack on the hand from Steve.

"I'm your best man," Steve pointed out. "That means I'm in charge of getting you hammered before your big day. And since you can't get hammered, I at least have to _pour_ all your drinks."

Bucky gave Steve a look as he poured him a drink. "That doesn't make much sense, Steve."

Steve shrugged. "Oh well. Doing my best here."

Bucky then took the glass that Steve sent his way, and he took a healthy gulp of the very expensive whiskey as Clint sitting next to him grabbed an entire bottle of liquor rather than a glass to pour it into.

"I hate to ask this," Clint said as he popped the top off, "but... is this... it? _This_ is your bachelor party?"

Half his drink already gone, Bucky shrugged and looked around. He had his best friend and two other guys that he genuinely liked being around - Sam and Clint - and a truckload of liquor. What else did he need?

"Not that I expected much from two grandpas in committed relationships," Clint added after having taken a gulp of the bottle and then wincing, "but..."

"I suggested going out," Sam piped up, "or doing _something_ involving girls in _some_ capacity, but I was outvoted."

Bucky shrugged again at that. "Wouldn't really get much of a thrill from watching random girls strip."

Steve nodded his agreement. "I think this suits you just fine."

"Hey, it's your party," Clint gestured to Bucky. "Whatever you want, man. But I bet the girls are having a much more exciting night."

Bucky's head turned Clint's way mid-sip, before he lowered his glass and asked, "What do you mean?"

Clint raised his eyebrows and pointed out, "Natasha planned their night out." When nobody seemed to understand the inherent meaning in those words, he repeated, "_Natasha_."

"I'm sure she won't get them into too much trouble," Steve said in an oddly naive sort of way. Then all three other men looked at him incredulously, and he amended, "Okay. Never mind."

Sam paused before admitting, "Darcy might have let it slip what they were doing."

Now Bucky turned his full attention on Sam. "And?"

Before Sam could answer, Clint had a sudden thought and asked, "Where's David right now?"

"Someone's watching him," Bucky muttered without looking at Clint, waiting impatiently for Sam's answer.

"Who?" Clint asked.

As if on cue, outside of the glass surrounding the room, there was a quick and colorful zooming by of someone with a cape and someone clinging to their back. Clint's eyes widened and he almost dropped his bottle, following the moving body - or bodies - as they flew leisurely through the air, and he blurted, "Oh man, Summer's gonna kill you."

"He's safe with Vision," Bucky said as an afterthought, not thinking twice about allowing the boy to go joyriding through the air on the back of a flying robot-man. Then he asked Sam once again, "What are the girls doing?"

"Well," Sam sighed, "they're going to a strip club. And not the cool kind. The _guy_ kind. And it's superhero night tonight."

Bucky's eyebrows furrowed in instant confusion and horror on Summer's behalf, and Steve couldn't help but ask, "_Superhero_ _night_?"

"Yeah," Sam explained. "They all dress up like... well... superheroes."

"Told you," Clint half-bragged, nudging Bucky's shoulder. "_Natasha."_

Bucky stared at his drink, quietly contemplating this new information. He wasn't mad, and he certainly understood why Natasha and the other girls would want to drag Summer to such a place and give her the traditional bachelorette experience while also embarrassing the ever living crap out of her for good measure. And if the strippers were dressed as superheroes, well, that made it all the more hilarious.

He eventually chuckled and shook his head. His poor, poor soon-to-be wife. She was going to utterly lose it. He almost wished he could be there to see it.

* * *

Natasha, having long called ahead and planned this night, knew right where to go to lead Summer and the others to a VIP table which, unlike what Summer thought was true of most VIP tables, wasn't tucked away or private at all, but instead... right in front of the main stage.

The place was nice, at least. It wasn't seedy or creepy, and it also happened to be _packed_. Apparently, male superhero stripper night was quite popular. She figured out the superhero part due to a giant sign advertising it right outside of the front door.

"Okay, I'm setting some ground rules right now," Summer said as they approached the table, which was so incredibly close to the stage that she feared for what sorts of... things... would be in her face all night. She sat down in the seat farthest from the stage on purpose. "First of all, please, for the love of God, don't get anyone to give me a lap dance, and -"

"Sweetie," Natasha said gently, sitting next to her, "you literally have the word _bride_ all over you. Even if I hadn't already planned everything, you would still end up getting a lap dance. It's just the way things work."

Summer paused. "Wait. You planned... everything. Does that mean you've like paid a guy in advance?!"

Natasha merely shrugged nonchalantly and then smiled at a girl who came by to take their drink orders. Summer stared accusingly at Natasha before she was suddenly reminded of her other ground rule.

"Oh! Nobody let me get drunk," Summer said, mostly addressing Natasha. "I don't want to be hungover on my wedding day. Nothing past tipsy for me."

"No problem," Natasha assured her before rattling off a handful of orders, giving Summer a chance to survey the other women at the table.

Wanda shared Summer's slight deer-in-headlights look, and it was oddly reassuring to know that she wasn't the only one who was about to be embarrassed beyond all belief. Darcy, however, was tapping against the table impatiently, clearly ready to get on with it, and Pepper looked a lot more comfortable than Summer would have expected.

"You've been here before, haven't you?" Summer asked Pepper, whose slight smile gave her away.

"I... yes, I have," Pepper nodded. "My life isn't all board rooms and conference calls. And it certainly wasn't for most of my adult life."

"I dragged Jane to a strip club in London once," Darcy recalled. "I'm telling you, those accents can make _anything_ seem classy. Hey," she turned to Wanda, "did they have these places in Russia?"

"I'm not from Russia," Wanda sighed. "And I don't know."

"Well, as the only single girl here, you should totally go for it."

Wanda blinked and asked, "Go for _what_?"

"You know... flirt. I don't know. You're about to be surrounded by mostly naked dudes, okay? Take advantage, that's all I'm saying. Being single and all."

Having been listening, Summer couldn't help but pipe up, "She probably won't be single for long."

Wanda's eyes flickered to Summer and became both confused and curious. Darcy, knowing exactly what Summer was getting at, smiled and said, "Oh really? Do tell, Miss Matchmaker."

Summer opened her mouth to answer, though she paused when their drinks arrived. After, she opened her mouth again, only to then freeze in terror when the lights suddenly dropped.

She gulped. "Oh God."

Then, music started playing. To shield herself from what was surely coming, Summer dropped her face into her hands, but both Darcy and Natasha grabbed her shoulders and set her back upright. It was as she was groaning in resignation that the stage suddenly lit up, and for better or worse, her eyes became glued to it.

She was pretty sure that she would go to her grave one day _still_ blushing about this.

* * *

"Don't tell me that _this_ is the bachelor party."

Having been chuckling together prior to the interruption, the four men sitting at the bar at the top of the tower paused and looked towards the elevator door. Bucky's face sobered the most quickly, having not expected a visit from Tony at any point in the night.

"Seriously, half of you can't even get drunk," Tony pointed out, a plain white folder in his hand as he strolled their way. Then he turned to Steve and said, "You could have asked me for help, you know. I've planned my share of bachelor parties in my day."

Steve tilted his head in a slight shrug. "Well, no offense, but I wasn't sure you'd be the... best choice of planner."

"Yeah, yeah, none taken," Tony said, walking up to the bar. "I didn't come here to crash, though." Then he glanced at the array of bottles on top of the bar and did a double take. "... Is that my private stash?"

"Figured you could just... bill me?" Steve smiled uneasily. Bucky merely kept drinking, and Clint giggled even though it wasn't that funny. He was already tipsy.

Tony paused, appearing to steady himself for a moment. "You're lucky you're so pretty, Rogers. Otherwise I actually would bill you."

"Please don't kiss again," Clint said after swallowing another big gulp of whiskey from his own bottle. "It was weird enough the first time. Nobody needs an encore."

"Left an impression though, huh?" Tony pointed out to Clint, then turned Bucky's way and tossed the folder in front of him. "No, I'm actually here for a good reason. I tried to find Summer earlier to give her this, but I missed her. So here you go."

Bucky looked from Tony to the folder, then opened it carefully and saw what looked like legal papers sitting within it. He looked back up and asked, "What is this?"

"Well, as you know, adopting a kid when you're legally dead and a wanted fugitive isn't exactly easy. But Summer asked me for help with that, and I happened to have a judge who owed me a favor -"

"How?" Steve squinted.

"None of your business, Captain Nosy-Pants," Tony snapped before going on. "Anyway, so I pulled some strings and got some papers quietly pushed through. Long story short, you are officially a parent now."

Bucky's eyes widened fractionally at Tony before he turned back to the papers, flipping through them now with sudden very real interest. Even though he had known this was coming, it still struck him on a deep and profound level to see it written in black and white and marked with the state of New York's seal.

As of the date stamped on the papers - which was that very day - little six year old David McAdams was now legally, and forever, David Barnes. Though he had been his father in every sense of the word for quite some time now, now it was legal and official. Bucky had a son, David had a father.

"I challenge everybody to give a better wedding gift than that," Tony said as Bucky stared at the papers. "Just saying. Not even including the honeymoon deal. It's kind of ironic, since I still don't technically like you."

Sam was the first to give Bucky a pat and congratulate him. Then Steve gave a sort of one-armed hug, and Clint gave a high five and a comment along the lines of "You were frozen in a tube for decades, how the hell did you beat us all to having kids first?"

In that moment, Bucky didn't care one bit about the strained history between himself and Tony. He looked up and told the man in a tone full of unmistakeable sincerity, "Thank you."

Tony nodded. "You're welcome. Where _is_ the kid, anyway?"

Before Bucky could give the slightly concerning answer, there was a very quiet landing outside on the circular landing platform that Tony used when he was Iron Man. Vision carefully helped David climb off of his back, and everybody looked their way just in time to watch David throw up over the railing and hopefully not on someone's head down below.

Tony slowly turned his gaze back to Bucky and, eyebrows raised, said, "You know, they offer parenting classes now. Just putting it out there."

David, however, seemed absolutely fine once he was done puking, and he came bounding into the room with renewed energy and a big smile on his face. He ran straight to Bucky, gesturing and signing wildly about his exciting night spent flying through the skies with his android friend, and Bucky watched and listened with ever-growing amusement.

"I thought that perhaps we had stayed out long enough," Vision explained, standing next to Tony now. "The immediate expulsion of his stomach's contents seemed to confirm as much."

"Yeah, thanks," Bucky nodded to Vision before smiling back at David and grabbing one of the pieces of paper from his folder. "I've got something to show you, buddy."

David calmed down enough to stand still, at least for the moment, as Bucky showed him the paper and then pointed to the bottom of the page, where his name was printed next to David's new one.

"This is your name now," Bucky explained, watching David's brown eyes flit over the letters. "This piece of paper means... it means you get my last name. Remember how we talked about how I was going to adopt you?" David looked up and nodded. "This means that I did."

Everything clicking into place in his head now, David broke into a huge smile and reread his name on the paper over and over again. Then he threw himself at Bucky in a hug, and Bucky couldn't help but hug him back and get a little choked up, though he hid it well. This had been a long time coming, and that piece of paper made everything feel more real in a beautiful way.

"Damn," Sam grinned as the father and son hugged each other. "Kid got your last name before his mama did. I don't know why, but that's hilarious."

"Only by a day," Steve grinned, visibly extremely pleased by the whole scene. "I think it's perfect."

"Man, this is officially the weirdest bachelor party ever," Clint said. "I mean, that's sweet and all, don't get me wrong, but..."

When David pulled away, still wearing his huge smile, Bucky smiled back and then glanced up at Tony, who appeared a bit unreadable at the moment. Maybe he was contemplating how strange it was to be the one to make a legal adoption happen for his father's killer, but if he was, he didn't seem to come to regret his decision at all. Hopefully, seeing how happy David was only made Tony feel better about his actions.

"All right," Tony said, "now that we've had our touching Hallmark moment... guess I'll leave you guys to your party."

"Thank you, Tony," Steve said sincerely, nodding at the other man. It was a thank you that covered a lot more than the adoption, though that was a big part of it.

Tony nodded back. "I give all the best gifts. Duh." Then he flashed a grin, one that was a little more real than most of his others, and then he asked, "So who's watching the kid while you guys don't get drunk?"

Bucky looked around and shrugged. "I guess he's just staying with us now."

Tony rolled his eyes and then bent down to David's level, tapping the boy on the shoulder. David turned around, and then Tony asked, "Hey, kid, want to learn how to take an engine apart and put it back together?" When David's response to that was less than enthusiastic, Tony sighed and said, "Okay, fine. Want to shoot stuff with a real-deal Iron Man gauntlet?"

David actually _squeaked_ in reply. Tony then chuckled and straightened up, gesturing for David to follow him, and then he pointed at Bucky and said, "You're welcome."

"Thanks," Bucky replied. "Be, uh... careful."

"Says the guy who let him fly around skyscrapers on Vision's back," Tony shot back as they walked away. "Totally telling on you, by the way."

Bucky laughed quietly to himself as the two of them then disappeared into the elevator. He picked his third glass of whiskey up and paused, shaking his head a little at the unexpected emotional turn that the night had taken.

Vision was the one to eventually break the silence. "Is this the customary sort of party before a man's wedding?"

"No," Clint replied. "The custom is to get drunk and watch girls take their clothes off. This is the G-rated Disney version of a bachelor party."

"Oh. How do I participate?" Vision asked, ever eager to understand the odd behavior of the humans around him.

Bucky replied by pouring another glass full of the whiskey he was drinking, and then he handed it to Vision with one word. "Drink."

Vision wasn't a fan of the taste of whiskey, but he took the glass anyway and sighed, "Well, if I must."

"Dude," Sam asked as Vision took a tiny sip of the drink and made a face, "_can_ you get drunk?"

"I am not entirely sure," Vision admitted. "I suppose we will find out."

"That's what I'm talking about," Clint slurred slightly, well on his way to drunk now. "And now that the kid's out of here, let's talk about something more interesting. I mean... if we can't _look_ at boobs, can we at least talk about them?"

"I can talk about that all day long," Sam declared, straightening up as if this was finally a conversation he could really get in on. "Where do I even start?"

Bucky caught the amused look in Steve's eye as they both drank at the same time. He wondered what Summer was up to at that point, though he had a pretty good idea of what the answer to that was.

* * *

Summer was sinking into her chair and hiding her burning face behind her fingers, but she couldn't resist peeking through them just one more time. Once she did, she promptly squeaked and wailed, "_Oh my God,_ I'm never gonna look at Steve's shield the same way ever again!"

Then Natasha grabbed both of her wrists and pulled her hands away from her face, fully enjoying herself as she said, "You're about to miss the best part."

The best part ended up being the man on stage - who had come out to the tune of the Star Spangled Banner of all things, and then stripped off a much thinner, easily ripped version of the 1940s Captain America suit - finishing up his routine by turning his back to the audience and then tossing the shield covering _something_ into it. Then the lights went dark again, and Darcy jumped up to catch the shield but lost it to another table by just the barest of inches.

"This is the most embarrassing night of my life," Summer muttered, picking up her third and final drink and sipping slowly to try to make it last. She felt a little warm and fuzzy, but the drinks weren't very strong and she was pretty sure she'd have to be full-on drunk to competently handle the whole male-stripper thing.

Next to her, Wanda was leaning her face into her palm, laughing a bit goofily and blushing as much as Summer. She was closer to tipsy than Summer was, and Darcy had already started slamming tequila shots like the fearless college student she was. Pepper and Natasha were sticking more to the sober side of things, and Summer only wished she had their ability to handle this situation with such ease and lack of face-burning blushes.

"Hey, this is fun, though," Darcy said, picking up another shot glass. "And that guy was hot. Not as hot as Steve himself, but he was an okay stand-in. Who's next?"

"Thor's next," Natasha grinned, and Summer choked on her drink for roughly the thousandth time that night.

"Oh God, I don't even want to know what Thor's gonna be like," she said, fanning her face to try to de-tomato-fy it.

"Oh, but you will," Natasha smirked nonchalantly. "More than the rest of us."

Summer looked up suddenly, paling slightly. "Wait, what?"

"What?" Nat repeated innocently.

"What did you say?" Summer demanded. "What's that _mean_?"

"I didn't say anything," Natasha shrugged, though the faint grin on her face told another story.

"_Nat_," Summer began anxiously, only to then be effectively shut up by the lights dimming again. "Oh God. I am so not drunk enough for this."

Then, a few moments later, a new show began. And it was indeed one starring a fake but impressively attractive Thor, with a hammer prop and everything, and the moment he stepped out to the delight and cheers of the crowd, Summer once again tried to slide down far enough into her seat that she'd disappear entirely.

The DJ stoked the audience in the beginning, introducing the man as the god of thunder himself, then made Summer groan to herself with a pun along the lines of how he was going go prove just how well he could swing his hammer. She only wished that Thor himself was here to see this. He'd probably find it hilarious and then give the stripper tips on how to improve his game.

Not that it needed it. Being slightly - _slightly_ \- adjusted to the general idea of strippers now, Summer was able to watch most of the routine without completely dying and acting like an idiot, and she had to admit, the guy was good. She managed to hold it together this time until the _really_ embarrassing stuff started.

Once it did, though, she found that there was no escaping her fate.

Having began the routine in a pretty decent replica of Thor's armor, the man danced and grinded his way through his set and, once he was left in just the cape and leather pants that looked like they were actually made of shiny tissue paper, made his way to the edge of the stage. That was when the DJ started talking again.

"A little birdie told me we've got a blushing bride-to-be with us tonight."

Summer's heart dropped and she froze in her seat. Her eyes had possibly never been so wide before in her life. Then, to her eternal humiliation, one of the damn spotlights flashed to life right on _her_. 

She didn't even have time to look at Natasha and beg for mercy before she realized that "Thor" had sauntered off the stage and was now behind her. He pulled her chair out and she squeaked, mind racing with ways to get out of this, but there was simply no way out.

Wanda looked horrified - though entertained - on her behalf, while everybody else at the table was laughing and clapping excitedly. Then "Thor" walked around her chair, extending his hand to her as she looked up with her huge eyes and was momentarily blinded by his bright smile and lustrous long (though likely fake) locks.

"Come with me, my lady," he said, and she laughed unexpectedly, because he was even trying to replicate Thor's voice, and it wasn't very good. Then she went back to being terrified, because he was pulling her to her feet and _oh my God this was actually happening_. 

"Wait, wait, oh God, hold on, I don't think I... somebody help me!" she wailed, half-smiling and half-crying as she was dragged away from the table. All she got were assurances that she'd be fine, and a flash of light in her eyes that was the result of Darcy snapping a pic.

She was on her own.

_Thor have mercy._

* * *

"Allison... West, I think, in ninth grade," Clint sighed, resting his face against the quickly emptying bottle of whiskey. He was fully drunk now, but quite able to recall the name of the girl who owned the first real pair of boobs he'd ever seen. "They were so perky..."

"And you are smashed, man," Sam observed with a chuckle, though he was on his way there as well. "But let me think... oh, right. Eva San... San... wait, no. Rodriguez. Wow, I was way off. But yeah. And... tenth grade. But she was in twelfth."

Clint reached over to give Sam a drunks high five, and Bucky kept drinking quietly as Sam then asked Steve, "Let's hear yours."

Steve paused, then grinned a little sheepishly and said, "Well, uh... don't know her name, because I never actually met her, or spoke to her, but... a really pretty redhead at an old burlesque club in Brooklyn. I was 17. Bucky was 18 and snuck me in."

Sam clutched his chest suddenly and gasped in mock horror, "Captain America snuck into burlesque shows underage? America's shining star of morality? You're killing my childhood here, Steve."

Steve laughed and shrugged, while Bucky tried to recall this particular incident. He couldn't remember the specifics, but it did seem familiar, now that Steve mentioned it.

"It was my birthday," Steve said. "And I had an asthma attack."

Clint cracked up laughing. Sam tried not to, but the laughter bubbled over anyway. Bucky merely smiled as Steve sighed, "But as asthma attacks go, it was one of the best ones I ever had."

After some more laughs, Bucky somewhat hoped that nobody would want his story, because he damn sure couldn't remember it. Luckily, though, Sam and Clint were diplomatic enough not to ask, and Steve was helpful enough to fill in the blanks for him.

"Yours was a girl named Joanie. You were 16. Don't remember her last name," Steve said to him, "but I do remember how you wouldn't shut up about it for an entire week."

Bucky chuckled and nodded, taking Steve's word for it. "Sounds like me."

"Yeah," Steve smiled. "She was pretty, uh... gifted, in that area. You tended to go for... that type. Dark hair and big..." he shrugged, trailing off.

"Wow," Sam remarked. "And all these years later, dude's still got the same type."

Bucky couldn't deny that. He grinned to himself and looked down, debating on whether to comment or not. In the end, he decided what the hell. "I might not remember every girl I ever fooled around with, but I do know Summer's got them all beat. And not just in terms of her body, although..." he shrugged appreciatively, then took a drink.

"You don't have to elaborate," Sam assured him. "We're not blind, man. She's hot. And I say that with all the respect in the world."

Bucky nodded. "Thanks."

Then, the quietest member of the group spoke up, still working on his first glass of whiskey. "I'm afraid I have yet to experience what you all speak of."

Steve gave Vision's shoulder a pat. "It's okay. I waited a long time, too. It'll happen."

"Yeah, but," Clint blinked slowly, "do you even want it to happen? Like... do you... you know... have _urges_? I've gotta ask, because you're kind of a robot."

"You don't have to answer that," Bucky told Vision, but he seemed unperturbed by the line of questioning.

"I am not sure," Vision said thoughtfully. "I don't think so. At least not in the sense that you are referring to. The urges I feel are more along the lines of... protecting and... caring."

"Well, that's how it starts," Steve replied. "At least most of the time. That's how it _should_ start."

"Who are you protecting and caring about?" Clint asked, hiccuping slightly.

Bucky snorted and said, "You need to come visit more. Then you'd know."

Clint scoffed and then said, "But there's nobody single in the tower. You've _all_ paired up, as if this was a damn dating show. So who could it... oh. _Oh_." Realization dawning on Clint's face, he pointed a finger in Vision's direction and said, "I'd give you the scary, fake-big-brother talk, but since you're worthy of the stupid hammer and all, I guess I can trust you with her."

Now it was Vision's turn to look slightly lost. "But..."

"No, no, it's okay," Clint shrugged. "I approve. Hell, I bet even her real brother would approve."

Vision looked at Steve and then Bucky, as if trying to fully understand what Clint was getting at. Bucky decided to help the guy out and said in his typical blunt manner, "You and Wanda. Everybody sees it."

He blinked. "They do?"

Bucky nodded. "And she's as damn oblivious as you are."

Vision then looked down at his drink, staring in deep concentration as if he were trying to work out a difficult equation in his head. Everyone stayed quiet until he looked up and spoke again. "I'm not sure why I feel the way I do. Sometimes I wonder if it's because of _him_. If he intended for me to be this way. For her."

"It wouldn't matter if he did," Steve assured assured him, understanding the reference to Ultron without having to hear the name. "He was never in control of you. Whatever you feel or think, that's _you_. Not him."

Vision nodded, though he seemed unconvinced. Sam seemed suddenly contemplative as well, and the silent, serious spell that had been cast over the room broke when Clint said, "How did talking about boobs turn into _this_?"

Bucky couldn't help but laugh. He hadn't really had too high of hopes for this little party, but he really was genuinely enjoying himself, even if he still couldn't feel a thing from the copious amounts of whiskey he'd drank.

* * *

What was happening didn't become entirely real until Summer found herself right in the middle of the stage, sitting on a chair that "Thor" had sat her down in. From there, she could see everyone and everything, including Darcy recording the entire spectacle on her phone. She was going to kill her, and Natasha as well, when this night was over.

But for now, she had bigger problems. Problems like the muscular blonde dude who was now in front of her again. He was nice enough to take her hand and kiss it before turning around and... well.

She heard Pepper whistling as the guy started dancing again. Face burning with the fire of a thousand suns already, Summer covered her face and started giggling nervously to herself and trying to figure out where to even look. What was she supposed to _do_? Just sit there and stare at the man's gyrating hips, or maybe sink to the floor and crawl under the chair and hide?

She was seriously considering the second option when _it_ happened. "Thor" ripped his pants off, and as the crowd cheered, Summer's eyes bulged wide enough for everyone back at her table to see and laugh at. Because of course Thor would be wearing a red thong. What _else_ would he wear under those fake leather tear-away pants?

With a flourish of his cape - which was just short enough to not cover anything worth seeing - he turned around and got on with the task at hand, and Summer melted against her chair even more. He seemed nice enough though, smiling at the mildly terrified and highly embarrassed look on her face, but he didn't hesitate to give her the full bachelorette experience. She, meanwhile, just tried really hard to not stare at "Thor"'s... hammer.

It felt like it lasted years, but in reality, it only lasted about five minutes. First, he took it easy, dancing near her but not _on_ her, easing her into it. Then, still facing her, she squealed and turned even more red when he ventured on to her lap, still taking it easy and just teasing her, though she did die a little more when he took her hands and put them on his chest. She snatched them back as soon as she could, laughing so hard that she was crying.

It was slightly humiliating, yes, but she couldn't remember the last time she'd laughed so hard. If ever.

Eventually "Thor" turned around, and he spent the next portion of his dance like that, with his back to her chest, giving her a lap dance to remember. Eventually he made full contact, and she screamed a little before clamping her hand over her mouth and dissolving into nervous, mortified giggles all over again.

But it wasn't over yet. As his grand finale, he turned around so that he faced her and took her by surprise by grasping the back of her chair, then slowly tipping it backwards. She let out a few nervous _uh's_ and _um's_ and giggles on the way down, and when she was almost all the way down to the floor, then she let out a mixture of a gasp and a squeak. He let her have it now, rolling his body on top of hers, and there was definitely nothing teasing about it now. She laughed and tried not to sputter throughout the whole thing, finding it both incredibly funny and also legitimately hot. He knew how to do his job and make a girl squirm, that was for sure.

Thankfully, though, he ended the dance on a non-embarrassed note. After he pulled her chair back up, he gently eased off of her, fixed the tiara atop her head, and grabbed his hammer from where it had been on the floor. Then he presented it to her with a grin and said in his hilariously bad imitation of Thor's booming voice, "Take it. You are worthy."

She took it with a relieved laugh, and he helped her to her feet and guided her down off of the stage as the audience cheered. He escorted her all the way to her table, then gave her a one armed hug as as he said in his normal voice, "You're a good sport. Good luck with your wedding."

"Thank you," she said, wiping away stray tears from her eyes and then handing the hammer back to him. "Here you go."

He waved her off. "I've got like ten of those. Keep it as a souvenir."

"Oh. Okay," she smiled, keeping the hammer and then all but collapsing back into her seat at the table as he walked away. She immediately slammed her face into the table, then was hugged by everyone at her table at once.

"You didn't run away! I'm so proud of you," Nat said, her smile reflecting her pride.

"Dude, that guy was hot! What'd he smell like?" Darcy asked.

"You're a brave, brave soul," Pepper said, patting her head.

Wanda picked up the hammer and then immediately set it back down as she made a face. "Why is the hammer... oily?"

Finally, Summer sat back up and looked at each woman at the table and said, "I hate all of you. Like. So much. And by hate I mean love but kinda hate too. Like I want to hug all of you and also smash your faces into some mud somewhere, but..."

"I totally get it," Darcy replied. "But you had to have the full experience or else we wouldn't be doing our jobs."

"And you recorded the whole thing, didn't you?" Summer cringed.

Darcy grinned and held up her phone proudly. "Yes I did."

Summer groaned and dropped her head back against the table. Meanwhile, Wanda grabbed her drink and said, "If I get married one day, please do not do this to me."

"Too late," Darcy said.

Wanda froze with her drink straw halfway to her lips. "What?"

"Nothing," Darcy said innocently.

"Oh, just tell her," Natasha said. "She deserves a fair warning."

"Fine," Darcy rolled her eyes. "Since you've never been to a strip club before, you're next. We paid in advance for... well..."

"The Hulk," Natasha finished.

Summer's head shot back up as Wanda paled. Then the lights dropped again, and this time, a rather large man with black hair and purple shorts came slowly stomping out on to the stage. Then he roared in a way that was both cheesy and hilarious.

Summer and Wanda shared a look of mutual look of utter horror. Darcy cackled and got her video function ready on her phone.

The night was clearly far from over.

* * *

Later on that night, after Vision had literally floated off somewhere and Sam had half-drunkenly called it a night, Bucky was carrying a passed-out Clint over his shoulder and walking with Steve towards one of the empty rooms on their floor. It was after midnight, and Summer and the girls hadn't come back yet, but Bucky's party had wound down to a close. Now it was just time to deposit Clint into a bed safely and, hopefully, get some sleep himself.

"I didn't take Clint for a lightweight," Steve remarked as they found a room that would do. He flipped on the light and Bucky followed him inside.

"I did," Bucky replied, heading towards the bed in the center of the room. He dropped Clint into the middle of the bed, and he didn't so much as twitch. He simply kept snoring, and Bucky chuckled before turning to Steve.

There was a lot to say, and not just because he was getting married the next day. As usual, Bucky wasn't sure where to start, but he figured it out soon enough.

"Thanks for tonight," Bucky said. "It was nice."

Steve nodded, and together they started making their way out of the room, towards the hallway. "Yeah, you're welcome. Might not have been the traditional bachelor party, but..."

"Why get traditional now?" Bucky joked as Steve turned off the light and closed the door behind him, leaving Clint to snore in peace.

"Well, I'm glad you enjoyed yourself," Steve said as they lingered in the hallway. "So, you ready to get married tomorrow?"

Bucky grinned a little and glanced at the floor before replying, "Actually... I am. I've been ready since the day I asked her. Feels like it's been forever now."

"Yeah, I bet," Steve replied. "Well... try to get some sleep. Probably won't be easy, but..."

"Yeah, it won't," Bucky admitted. "But maybe I'll just..."

He was interrupted by Darcy and Natasha suddenly appearing in the hallway, talking animatedly amongst themselves and stopping short when they saw the two men standing there. Bucky blinked at their sudden presence and asked, "Is Summer back yet?"

"Yeah," Darcy replied. "She came in before us and said she was going straight to bed to try to sleep."

Bucky furrowed his brows and looked in the direction of Summer's room, then gave Steve a quiet goodnight before heading towards it. She must have slipped in while he and Steve had been putting Clint to bed.

Without a second thought, once he reached her door, he grabbed the doorknob and twisted it. He opened the door, then began to walk inside of it, only to hear a loud squeak just before being physically shoved out of the room and having the door slammed in his face.

"What the... Summer? What the hell?"

She opened the door just a crack and hissed through it, "It's after midnight! You're not allowed to see me now!"

He rolled his eyes and hissed back, "Oh come on. That doesn't even count."

"Oh yes it does," she argued. "I wanted to come back before midnight so I could see you, but..."

"Yeah, I heard from Sam what Nat planned for you," Bucky said more quietly. "How did that... go?"

"Um... well... uh... good, I guess? In a horrifyingly embarrassing kind of way? But yeah... how did your night go?"

"Good," he replied, staring at the door. "I actually have some... news."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Tony gave me some papers, and... the papers for the adoption went through I guess, so..."

He heard a thud on the other side and smiled. "Seriously?" she replied excitedly. "Does that mean... does David have your name now?

"Yeah he does," Bucky answered. He could _hear_ the smile on her face.

"... He beat me to it!" she laughed, and Bucky chuckled with her. Sam had called that one. "No, but seriously. That's great! The timing's perfect."

"Yeah, I thought so too," he replied quietly, leaning his head against the door. "Can't you let me in for just a few minutes?"

"No!" she half-whined. "It's the rules! I didn't make the rules. Trust me, I'd like to, but..."

He sighed heavily and tapped his forehead against the door. "... Fine."

"Sorry," she said softly. "But we'll make up for all of this tomorrow. I promise."

"You promise, huh," he grinned. "Got something up your sleeve?"

"Well, I'm actually not wearing sleeves right now... I'm actually just in my underwear, so..."

He groaned. "That's not helping, Summer."

Her little giggle on the other side wasn't helpful, either. "Okay. I'll shut up. We should go to bed. We've gotta get up at like five."

"I know," he replied. "I'm not that tired."

"Me neither. But we need to try anyway. I don't want to be all sleepy on our wedding night."

His grin returned. "I guarantee you won't be sleepy."

"Yeah... well, maybe," she conceded, and again he could hear her smile. "But still. Go to bed. And I'll see you at the altar... arch... thing."

He laughed softly. "Okay. See you there."

"I'll be the one in white," she said lightly. "And probably crying."

He paused. "I'll be the one who can't take their eyes off you."

She was quiet for a moment before there was an answer. "I'll hold you to that."

"Okay." He smiled to himself and added softly, "I love you."

"Love you too," she answered without hesitation, in the same quiet, anticipatory way that he had.

Through the crack in the door, Bucky slipped his right hand past it and found Summer's on the other side. If he couldn't see her, then he could at least touch her one more time tonight. She eased the door open just enough for him to pull her hand closer, lay a soft kiss on the back of it, and then entwine their fingers together.

"Goodnight," he said, running his thumb over her hand softly as she gave his a gentle squeeze.

Her voice was barely over a whisper. "Goodnight."

And then, though he didn't want to, Bucky disentangled their fingers and let her hand slip out of his. He slowly straightened up and, with a small smile on his face, lingered for just a few seconds before he turned and walked away from her door. He heard it click shut once he was a few steps away.

He was getting married tomorrow. _They_ were getting married tomorrow. Six months of planning and working and time ticking by had brought them here, mere hours away from doing something he still couldn't believe he was lucky enough to be experiencing, after all of these years and everything he'd been through.

There was no way he was going to sleep a single wink.

**A/N: WEEEEEEEEE bachelor and bachelorette parties! And another gigantic chapter! And the wedding is next! Woooooot! As you all can see, I am excited :D Expect another enormous chapter next week, and the week after, actually, because... yeah. I think you're all gonna like the next, ah, two or three chapters in particular :D At least I HOPE so. Lol**

**To 127FluffyKittens - omg, your last review made me giggle like an idiot :D comparing my answer to a celebrity autograph was definitely a first and MIGHT have made me squeal a little, so thank you :D and to anyone who happened to see the troll review I let post, yeah... sorry about that, but I went ahead and approved it because I thought it was hilarious, but it also pissed me off because it was actually insulting to you readers, saying I write weird "fantasy porn" to satisfy my "loyal readers", so I take that as an insult to you guys and that is NOT cool. And it's also pretty inaccurate. So boo to the troll, whoever they are. Lol**

**Thank you guys SO MUCH for reading and reviewing, and a HUGE thanks to midnightwings96 for helping A LOT with this chapter. I would have been lost without her. Gah. I love you ALL, and I will see you all next week with a wedding as my weekly gift to you guys :D **


	39. Chapter 39

**A/N: I'm sticking the note up here at the top this week because I don't want to pass up my opportunity to present to you lovely readers this gigantic wedding extravaganza :D I put a LOT of time and effort into this chapter, like seriously I didn't see daylight for like three days lol, and I hope SO much that you all like it :) thank you to each of you for reading, and one of my biggest thank you's EVER to midnightwings96, because she is fricking AMAZING and cowrote a VERY key section of this chapter with me. It would not have been possible without her help, and I ADORE how it turned out and adore her, so she gets my eternal love and gratitude :D I'm going to shut up now, and I look forward to hearing from you guys! Eeeeep! :D**

Before the sun had even begun to rise the next morning, Summer's phone next to her head went off in a mildly screechy, incredibly irritating, alarm that made her jerk awake and immediately groan in great annoyance.

Blindly groping for the phone to make the noise stop, she squinted her eyes open and tried to remember why she had set an alarm for such an ungodly hour. When she finally managed to turn it off, she flopped over to her back and held up her phone, too delirious to remember anything until she blinked enough to clearly see the date on the screen.

That was when realization struck her, and in her sudden moment of clarity, she dropped her phone on her face. It hurt, but as of that moment, nothing in the whole world was going to get her down that day. Not even scrambling out of bed so fast that she managed to get her foot stuck in the sheets and send her flying face-first to the floor.

Mentally chanting an excited and slightly terrified mantra of _I'm getting married today, I'm getting married today, holy fricking crap I'm getting married today_, Summer then managed to make it through the rest of the morning without further injury. She took the world's fastest shower and then crashed about the bedroom, getting dressed and knocking various things over in her haste to not fall behind schedule. David managed to sleep through all of it, and when there was a knock at her door, she rushed to open it, knowing who it was.

Natasha stood on the other side of the door, looking as perfectly awake and together as she ever did, while Summer was pretty sure she resembled a drowned rat. Regardless, Summer smiled excitedly and then pulled her inside the room, whispering excitedly, "I can't believe this is finally happening!"

Natasha closed the door behind her, grinning and replying, "I can't believe you're awake. And already showered."

"Oh, I am wide awake and ready to do this," Summer confirmed. "Is Bucky awake yet?"

"Steve was on his way to check when I came here," Natasha replied. "So let's go over the list."

"Right," Summer said, taking a deep breath and heading to her closet to pull out a small suitcase that contained most of what she needed to take with her to the farm. "I've double checked this about five times, so I think I'm good, but..."

Summer then gently tore through the contents of the suitcase, going so fast that Natasha felt almost dizzy by the time that she was done, at which point she put a hand on Summer's shoulder and smiled, "Hey, take it easy. Breathe. Everything's going to go great today."

Summer did as she said and breathed, closing her eyes and trying to calm her nerves. "I know. I just... _I'm getting married today_."

She then broke out into a smile and squealed quietly, and Natasha chuckled at her antics before pulling her into a light hug. After, she asked, "What are you more nervous for, today or tonight?"

Summer's eyes widened and she shook her head while trying to form actual words. "Oh God. I'm gonna throw up. I wasn't even thinking about tonight. Now I am. Now I'm not gonna be able to think about anything but it. Oh God."

"You're going to do great," Nat assured her. "You have nothing to be anxious about. Trust me. And I wouldn't say that if I didn't mean it."

Summer believed her. It was true - Natasha was never one to express her confidence in something if she wasn't sincere about it. Deception might have been second nature to her, but ironically, Summer didn't think the woman had ever lied to her.

"Okay," Summer nodded. "Right. Besides, I can freak out about this later. Right now we've gotta get moving."

Natasha nodded in agreement. "Yes we do."

"And you have my dress?"

Natasha nodded again. "In my closet, ready to move when you are."

"Okay. Let me grab my bathroom bag and then we can get going," Summer said, but on her way to bathroom, she stopped in her tracks yet again. She then glanced over her shoulder at Natasha, and with a goofy smile on her face, said yet again, "_I'm getting married today_."

Natasha shook her head, quietly laughing with her. Summer was nervous, yes, but it was the best kind of nervous she had ever been. It was the sort of anxiety that left her anticipating rather than dreading the coming hours, but there was quite a bit of work to do before the ceremony, let alone everything that would come _after. _For then, it was time to get moving and get going.

What a day it was going to be.

* * *

Meanwhile, as Summer was flitting about her room making sure that she wasn't forgetting anything, Steve was standing over Bucky's bed and watching the groom-to-be sleep like he had the whole morning to snooze away. Steve sighed, wondering how hard it was going to be to wake him up and why Bucky's phone hadn't done the job for him.

He glanced at Bucky's phone on the table next to his bed, and a quick check of his alarm showed that Bucky had apparently accidentally set his alarm to go off at five PM rather than AM. He made a mental note to later tease him about this uncharacteristic technological mishap, then leaned down and gently shook Bucky's right shoulder.

He didn't even so much as twitch or groan in reply. Steve rolled his eyes and shook him again, though still very gently.

"Bucky. Wake up."

This time, Bucky stirred and cracked open an eye. As soon as it landed on Steve, he closed the eye and then made to burrow back under the covers, muttering for Steve to leave him alone in a rather colorful way.

Putting his hands on his hips, Steve was amused as he replied, "Well, I would, but I think your _wife_ would kill me if I let you show up late to your own wedding."

Bucky didn't move for a good five seconds. Then, he shot up with suddenly wide eyes and a wild look about him as he sleepily half-exclaimed, "Oh fuck."

Steve grinned, but not before raising an eyebrow and saying, "Hey, language."

Bucky shot Steve a glare. "Shut up."

Steve's grin widened. "The girls are already up and probably ready to go. We need to head out."

Bucky ran a hand over his face, nodding and then grabbing his phone to check the time. "Dammit," he frowned after the screen lit up. "Why didn't this thing go off?"

"You might have set it wrong," Steve shrugged innocently.

"I've never set it wrong," Bucky muttered.

"Well... then you picked a hell of a first day to do that."

Bucky sighed and threw the sheets off, getting up and stomping around the room. Steve followed him, still smiling, and Bucky grabbed a pair of clothes at random out of his dresser as he asked, "How far behind schedule are we?"

"Not much," Steve assured him. "We've still got plenty of time to get there and get ready in time. We just can't afford to... dillydally."

Bucky paused and turned to look at his friend slightly incredulously. "_Dillydally_?"

"Yes, dillydally."

"Who says dillydally anymore?" Bucky asked, not really caring, but teasing Steve was a good way to distract himself from his brief moment of panic.

"People our age do," Steve shrugged. When Bucky rolled his eyes, Steve clapped his shoulder and smiled, "Go on, get ready to go. I've already got everything taken care of."

Bucky nodded, pausing before asking, "The suit's already at the farm, right?"

Steve nodded. "I took it there yesterday. I told you, I've got this. All you need to worry about is remembering the vows we wrote."

Bucky cracked a smile, slowly nodding back. Attempting to write his own vows had been a nightmare at first, but Steve was good at coming up with flowery speeches and touching words essentially off the top of his head, so it had become something of a team effort. Together they had come up with something he hoped was good enough, and Steve did a good job of putting Bucky's feelings into words. Memorizing them had been easy, but now that the day was finally here, he wondered if he'd blank out and forget when the time came.

Steve gestured towards the bathroom and again said, "Go on. I'll get everything ready."

"Will we still have time to get the surprise ready?" Bucky asked, and Steve couldn't remember the last time he'd seen him so nervous.

"Plenty," Steve nodded. "Don't worry about that."

Bucky nodded again, then finally turned and headed towards the bathroom. His mind was racing, and though he'd been incredibly calm about the wedding since its early planning stages, now he was experiencing that last-minute attack of nerves that he didn't think he'd have to deal with.

Steve, being able to read his best friend like a book, saw his nerves from a mile away. Before Bucky disappeared into the bathroom, Steve called out quietly, "Hey."

Bucky turned and replied, "Yeah?"

"Everything's gonna go great," Steve assured him. "I'm here to make sure of that."

Bucky nodded, knowing that today, at some point, he needed to tell Steve some things he'd been keeping to himself for probably a bit too long. He didn't have a written speech ready for _that_ conversation, but it was needed.

He'd worry about that once he had some coffee in his system.

"Thanks," Bucky finally replied, to which Steve merely smiled and nodded.

After that, Bucky turned and got back to focusing on the task at hand, which was getting out of the tower and to the farm in time to do something that he was still convinced he was wholly unworthy of. He expected to remain convinced of this until his dying day, but it wouldn't stop him from treasuring every moment of his wedding day.

He wondered just how much Summer was currently herself freaking out just across the hallway.

* * *

When it was time to leave, Summer carried a still-sleeping David into Natasha's car while Nat carried out the other essentials and got them safely packed for the several-hour-long drive. After that, it was a relatively quiet trip to the farm, at least until they were halfway there and driving mostly alone along the highway.

With David snoozing and Natasha driving after having helpfully stopped for coffee along the way, Summer was busy making calls and making sure that certain things were happening on time. The cake would be arriving on time, and Esteban and Nicolo - bless their very souls - had arrived at the farm the night before to start setting things up. She was seriously considering naming her next child after them, because a simple "thank you, nor what she was paying Nicolo for his photography, didn't seem to nearly suffice.

Nonetheless, it was as she was dialing her brother's number to make sure that he and all one thousand of his kids were also on their way that a car driving up rather obnoxiously on their tail stole her attention. She looked at the car through the rearview mirror and muttered, "What the heck is this person's problem? You're not even going slow."

Natasha glanced up just as the car cut into the other lane to pass them. Then she smirked. "No, but apparently I'm driving slow enough that your fiancé managed to catch up with us."

"What?!" Summer squeaked before diving forward in her seat to hide herself, just in case Bucky looked over at her as he passed them. "And what the heck! If that's him, he's driving like a maniac!"

Natasha grinned and looked to her left, rolling down her window as the other car remained next to hers for a bit. Steve in the passenger seat rolled his window down too, and then with a grin he yelled to Nat, "First time I've seen you actually drive the speed limit!"

"First time you've seen me drive with a little kid in the backseat," she pointed out. When she saw Bucky in the driver's seat glance her way, she called, "No peeking!"

From her place curled uncomfortably small and halfway on the floor of the car, Summer said, "If he sees me I'll kill him! Tell him that!"

Apparently Bucky had heard that, because he then merely smirked at Natasha before speeding up and rather noisily cutting in front of her. Natasha shook her head and rolled the window back up, then told Summer, "It's safe now."

Summer sat up slowly and looked around just to make sure, then settled on watching Bucky driving ridiculously quickly away in front of them. "What a jerk."

"You're marrying him," Natasha shrugged, amused.

"And now he's gonna beat me there," she said. "He doesn't even need to spend half the amount of time getting ready that I do!"

"You sure about that?" Natasha asked, giving her a side-look. "I've seen how long he spends on his hair."

Summer couldn't think of much in the way of an argument. "Well... still. But at least he didn't see me. Last thing I need is bad luck." Then she paused and said with sudden concern, "I hope he never drives like that with kids in the car. Or me."

"If it was just you in the car, you'd probably think it was hot."

Summer sighed in concession. "You're probably right."

"He'll probably be driving even faster than that once the wedding's over and you're on the way to the cottage," Natasha grinned as, up ahead, Bucky and Steve's car disappeared around a bend.

Summer smiled and picked up her phone, intending to go back to making her calls but instead drifting off in a sudden burst of mental bliss. She was still nervous, but so incredibly happy that it far outweighed anything else she felt in that moment.

Even her annoyance when she unlocked her phone to find a text from Bucky waiting for her, consisting of two words. _Slow pokes_.

Rapidly typing a strongly worded response, Summer exclaimed, "Now he's texting and driving! While going like 25 over the speed limit! I'm going to kill him!"

"_Now_ you're starting to sound like a married couple," Natasha quipped. "Let the nagging begin."

One comfort as Summer sent about five texts telling Bucky to stay off of his phone while driving like a psycho was knowing that Steve was surely doing the exact same thing from the passenger seat. Then that comfort got shot to hell when she got another text, again from Bucky's number, saying,_ I sent that. Thought it would be funny. Sorry. - Steve_.

She put her phone down and then slowly looked up, muttering quietly, "They both hate me. They're both jerks."

"They both love you," Natasha assured her, still grinning. "A whole lot. Trust me."

Summer sighed in annoyance, though she smiled to herself as she shook her head and fired off a few more texts. If nothing else, her wedding day was shaping up to be just as eventful and entertaining as every other big day she had experienced since getting tangled up in this new life of hers.

And it only got better from there.

* * *

When they arrived at the farm, Natasha first scoped it out to make sure that it was safe and that Bucky wasn't hiding in any bushes to catch a forbidden glimpse of Summer. Then she led Summer inside the front door with her eyes closed, because to Summer's chagrin, she wasn't allowed to see any of the decorations outside until she was ready to walk down the aisle. Apparently, those were the rules.

By then, David had woken up, so he followed them inside sleepily and paused at the sight of Clint slumped over at the kitchen table. Summer noticed this as well, and he cracked open an eye to look at the three of them blearily and then wave miserably in their direction.

"You know, you might be getting a little too old for the whole drinking like a frat boy thing," Natasha teased, patting his shoulder as she walked past him.

He groaned and lifted his head, forcing himself to take a gulp of the cup of coffee sitting in front of him. "No shit, Sherlock."

Summer chuckled quietly, imagining Bucky and Steve dumping him in the backseat hungover and probably still-unconscious, then shoving him here once they arrived. She glanced at her phone and then said, "Well, just as long as you're sober and human-looking in three hours."

He gave the thumbs up and then dropped his head back down to the table. Natasha then led Summer and David upstairs, to the room where they would be getting ready. On the way, Summer asked quietly, "Where are the guys getting ready?"

"Downstairs, in Clint's room," Natasha replied. "No chance of any accidental run-ins."

"Good," Summer said, and from there, everything seemed to go smoothly for a bit. They got settled into the room, Natasha brought in their dresses from the car as well as David's clothes, plus all the necessary hair and makeup supplies, and Summer helped her to set everything up and get their dresses hung and ready for them to put them on.

In fact, as the girls decided on getting makeup out of the way first, everything was almost disturbingly quiet for a good fifteen minutes, until there was a rapid and spirited knock on the door.

Natasha went to the door and first asked through it, "Who is it?"

"Two of the most attractive immigrants any of you Americans will ever see," came the reply, and Summer looked up from where she had been examining different eyeshadows at a desk and smiled.

Natasha glanced back at Summer and then opened the door. "You guys know I'm actually Russian, right?"

Esteban and Nicolo stood on the other side, both wearing bright and cheery smiles and the latter toting an impressively huge camera. Esteban led the way inside, answering Natasha, "Of course I know that. But you're dating Captain America, and it doesn't get more American than that."

Then, once he was inside and caught his first glance of Summer, they both made an indistinct high-pitched sound of excitement and rushed to hug each other. Nicolo, being slightly more subdued - slightly - simply turned his camera back on and started quietly snapping away.

"I cannot thank you guys enough," Summer said as she pulled away from the hug after having been squeezed to death. "I mean, seriously - I don't know what I'd do with either of you, and..." She paused and noticed the camera's presence, then asked, "Why is he already taking pictures?"

"I always start with the decorations, then the bride getting ready, then the groom," Nicolo explained with a slight shrug. Then a small smile appeared on his face and he added, "And I never pass up an excuse to photograph _him_."

"No you don't," Esteban grinned in reply. Then he turned back to Summer and nudged her with his elbow, half-whispering, "Wrapped around my little finger, this one."

"And I would totally be jealous if I didn't have my own super hot... talented... multilingual... guy," Summer grinned back. Then she sucked in a breath and added, "... Who I am marrying in like two and a half hours. Oh my God, Nat, let's hurry up and do this."

With a chuckle from everybody in the room, minus David who really just seemed wary and uninterested in all the fuss, the process of officially getting ready finally began. Nicolo busied himself with taking pictures of the dresses hanging from the walls, and then when Natasha began expertly applying Summer's makeup, he alternated between taking pictures and video. Summer didn't know about the video part - that would be a surprise for later.

All the while, Summer was all smiles and babbling about one thing after another, and halfway into having her face done up, Esteban had to leave to get back to overseeing the last minute touches outside. At his departure, Summer sighed and thought about how lucky she was to have these wonderful, not mention unfairly pretty, people around her on such a pivotal day of her life. Then she remembered that one person was missing, and as Natasha perfected her cheeks, Summer said sadly, "Man, I wish Thor was here."

"Yeah," Natasha agreed. "It's never quite the same without him."

"You want to hear something embarrassing?" Summer asked with a smile, eyes flitting from Natasha to Nicolo, who had been looking through the photos he'd taken so far. He looked up as she went on, "Yesterday, while we were here rehearsing, I kind of wandered off for a minute and... well... I looked up at the sky and... uh..."

"Yes?" Natasha prompted, not looking away from Summer's cheek and the brush in her hand.

"Well, Asgard has that... dude that can see everything, right?"

"Gatekeeper," Nicolo answered a little too quickly. He smiled sheepishly when Summer looked his way, then explained, "In the myths he's called Heimdall. I... read a lot."

Summer smiled back and said, "It's okay. Asgard is totally worth fangirling over. Or fanboying. But yeah! So there's that guy, and just on the off chance that he really does see everything, I sort of... invited Thor to come today. And I know it's stupid and there's no way he could just drop whatever it is he's doing and come here, but I just... miss him."

"I don't think it's stupid," Natasha said. "You never know. And even if he doesn't show up, I'm sure he would if he could."

"Yeah... though I'm not sure I can ever look at him the same way after fake Thor gave me a lap dance last night."

Nicolo looked up from his camera again, ears suddenly perking up. "What did you say?"

Meanwhile, outside, Esteban was directing a handful of volunteers in setting up the last remaining decorations. Wanda was there and, thanks to her abilities, was making it all go by incredibly quickly, and Darcy and Sam were also giving a helping hand at the moment. Clint had ventured out of the house looking a bit haggard but enduring his hangover and feeding his animals, cursing at them when they would make a loud noise and make his headache worse.

Then, all of a sudden, the sky rather literally opened up, and Esteban and the others froze as they turned and stared wide-eyed at the multicolored, brilliant beams of light hitting the ground from the very heavens. The chickens that Clint had been throwing food to clucked in terror and ran for safety in their coops, and then almost as soon as the light had appeared, it was gone. Standing in its place was none other than Thor himself, dressed in his full Asgardian armor and holding Mjolnir in his right hand.

He broke out into a wide smile, unaware of how he had just filled the hearts of each animal present with great fear. Clint sighed and dumped the rest of the chickens' food over the fence, and Darcy piped up, "Holy crap! Talk about wedding crashers!"

Then, before Thor could say a single hello or even move one foot in front of the other, Esteban quite literally swooned and fell into the arms of the person who just happened to be closest to him, which was Sam.

Any potential grand, sweeping greetings fell by the wayside as Thor furrowed his brows and made his way towards the scene. "Have I frightened him? I apologize for my sudden arrival, but I received an invitation and -"

"Nah, man, you're fine," Sam said, rolling his eyes at the fainted man whom he was currently holding upright. "Good to see you."

"You as well," Thor smiled. Then he smiled at the women and nodded. "Ladies."

Wanda smiled quietly and Darcy did some odd cross between a curtsy and a mild flail and grinned excitedly. "Dude! You scared the crap out of the animals, but I can't believe you're here! I thought it would be at least another two years until we saw you again."

"I cannot stay for long," he admitted. "But I did not want to miss this day." Then he came closer to Sam, who was now trying to slap Esteban awake and getting quite sick of holding him, and Thor asked cautiously, "Are you sure that he is well?"

Esteban stirred at Thor's voice, then opened his eyes and croaked, "If I said I needed CPR... would you believe me?"

Thor laughed and then helped Sam slowly get Esteban to his feet. "I apologize, my friend. How are you?"

"A bit woozy, but..." Esteban stood up and looked up at Thor in happily dazed admiration. "I have never actually fainted before in my life." Then he started babbling in Spanish, and Thor smiled, taking that to mean that he was probably rather happy to faint under the circumstances.

Then Clint came up behind Thor, tapping his shoulder. Thor turned and smiled, ready to greet him and ask why he looked a bit under the weather, but Clint pointed to the ground behind them before Thor could say a word.

"Good to see you and all, but the hell am I supposed to do with all this weird Asgardian symbol crap on my land?" Clint asked, gesturing to said weird symbols spread out in a perfect circle.

"Ah, yes, that. It will fade in time," Thor shrugged off before smiling again and slapping Clint's shoulder. He almost flew across the property as a result, and Thor's smile faded as he observed, "You do not seem well."

"Man, everybody's Captain Obvious today," Clint muttered before heading back towards his animals, who were still terrified and making it known with their screeches.

Thor watched Clint trudge off for a moment before turning back to the others and chirping happily, "Where is the bride?"

"Dude, the bride is gonna freak out when she sees you," Darcy grinned.

"Yes she is," Esteban agreed excitedly, energy fully back all of a sudden as he confidently began striding back to the house. "Follow me. Just try not to make her cry. She just got her makeup done."

Back in Summer's room, Natasha had just put the finishing touches on her face and was now standing behind her, brushing out her hair and spraying a few different products throughout it. Nicolo was snapping a picture of David as he wandered over towards the dresses and looked up at them with his nose wrinkled, and then there was a knock on the door.

"Are you decent?" Esteban yelled through the wood.

"Yup, no naked people in here!" Summer called back, expecting only Esteban to then walk through the door. She was wrong.

"I have a surprise for you," Esteban sing-songed as he opened the door, and Summer looked away from the mirror she was sitting in front of to glance at the doorway. She then promptly gasped and let her jaw drop to the very floor as Thor walked in behind him, wearing that friendly smile that she had missed seeing in the tower every day.

"Holy fricking crap!" she exclaimed, all but stumbling out of her chair and all but running towards the Asgardian royalty among them. "You got my message!"

"I did!" he smiled, opening his arms and catching her in a bone-crushing hug. "I am honored that you thought to invite me!"

She scoffed as she pulled away, looking up at him excitedly as she said, "It wouldn't have been the same without you! I was literally _just_ saying how I wished you could come, but I didn't think it was even possible, and now - oh my God, you're here!"

In the midst of Summer flailing and Thor laughing heartily at her enthusiasm, David came running excitedly up to Thor as well and threw his entire body around Thor's leg - because it was all he could reach, Thor was _that_ tall. Thor looked down and laughed as the boy giggled, then reached down and hugged him back. "Ah, I see that you have grown in my absence! Very good! I believe I made you a promise when I left, didn't I?"

David's eyes turned hopeful as he detached himself from Thor, and then Thor glanced at Summer with a brief wink before reaching underneath his cape, somewhere near his side. Summer was puzzled until Thor then pulled out a small swath of fabric, folded neatly until he shook it out and caused David to audibly squeal with glee.

"The cape he asked for!" Summer gasped. "You remembered!"

"Of course I did," Thor grinned proudly as David's eyes nearly fell out of his skull. "As promised, this was made from some of the finest fabrics on my world, and made by the very tailor who supplies my own clothes."

David reached out and touched the little cape like it was the single greatest thing he'd ever seen in his life, and it probably was, if Summer had to guess. Just as David requested, Steve's star symbol was stitched into the red cape, leaving it red and blue and a perfect mix of the trademarks of two of his favorite people. The silver that trimmed the star, however, seemed to signify one other person, and Summer had a very good guess on who it was.

"Turn around, I shall put this on you," Thor told David, who turned around and bounced on his heels as Thor attached the cape to his t-shirt.

After, David spun around with a flourish of the cape, then beamed up at Thor before signing _thank you_ to him roughly a hundred times. Thor chuckled and ruffled David's hair, then watched him run off to start playing with his new, genuinely Asgardian and totally awesome, cape.

That was when he noticed the stranger snapping pictures in between looking at Thor like he was very possibly about to faint just as Esteban had outside. As a result, Thor smiled and nodded at the man. "Hello."

"H-hello," Nicolo replied, lowering his camera as a starstruck daze came over his face.

"This is Nicolo," Summer helpfully supplied, still incredibly giddy herself. "Esteban's boyfriend and my photographer. And friend. I don't know what I would have done without them both."

"Oh, wonderful!" Thor smiled, and at his side, Esteban threw his hand over Thor's chest armor.

"Did I not tell you he was even more perfect in real life?" Esteban asked the still-dumbfounded Nicolo. "I mean, _look_ at him. And look at his _hair_. Look at _everything_!"

"As glorious as he is," Natasha said, cutting into the moment of group fawning, "we do have work to do."

"Ah, of course," Thor said, holding up his hands in surrender. "I will be on my way. And you," he took Summer's hand in both of his, "look very lovely, my lady. And you are back to walking normally!"

In the midst of blushing like crazy, Summer suddenly realized that when Thor had last seen her, she had only _just_ begun walking again. "Oh yeah! I'm all better. I can even dance now."

"Oh, she can _dance_," Natasha grinned knowingly, which didn't help Summer's blushing issue.

"Well I am glad to hear it," Thor said before, as was the custom, kissing Summer's hand and making her squirm. Then he released her hand with a smile and said, "I will go say hello to the groom now, leave you to your preparations."

"Okay," Summer nodded, and before she could stop herself, she jumped at him and hugged him again. "Thank you for the cape. And thank you so much for coming."

"It is my pleasure," he squeezed her back, and then all too soon after he had arrived, he was turning and heading back out the door. But she couldn't be sad, because he was there, and that meant that just about every single person she cared about in the world - _all_ the worlds - were going to be there on her wedding day, and it was perfect.

As Thor left, Esteban looked at Nicolo and squealed at him, then turned to follow Thor. Nicolo, following suit, smiled at Summer said, "I, ah, I think I will go and get some pictures of the guys. Text me when you are ready to get the dress on so I can shoot that, yeah?"

"Sure," Summer smiled. "Go on. Don't drool too much."

Nicolo laughed, then sighed and bit his free hand after making a fist with it, then all but raced out the door. Summer chuckled at his departure, then watched for a moment as David ran in circles and made wooshing sounds to match his glorious new cape.

"Okay," Natasha said, taking Summer by the shoulders and physically moving her back to her seat in front of the mirror. "No more distractions. Hair time."

"Right," Summer sighed, nodding and squaring her shoulders. Back to business.

* * *

"I'm not hungry."

Steve gave his best friend a knowing look. "You're _always_ hungry."

"Well, right now," Bucky said, eyeing the plate of food that Steve was shoving under his nose, "I'm not hungry, so..."

"Why, 'cause you're nervous?" Steve grinned, and Bucky rolled his eyes just before he hopped up from the chair he'd been sitting in and started pacing Clint's bedroom.

"I'm not nervous, I'm just..." he shook his head and glanced out the little window next to Clint's bed. From there, he could see Darcy trying to tie flowers to the back of the little chairs lining the "aisle" he and Summer would be walking down later, and Wanda was talking to Sam and laughing about something.

"Overwhelmed, maybe?" Steve guessed, now standing behind Bucky and also looking out the window.

Bucky didn't answer, only shrugging a little and thinking back to where he had been just a few years ago. How he had come from _that_ to all of _this_, just a few short hours away from marrying an extraordinary woman while people who he considered to be real friends helped get the decorations up outside, he would never know. Whether it was luck or fate or _whatever_, he wondered when he'd stop expecting something horrible to happen that would rip it all away.

But that was just his past speaking. He knew that, so he ignored that nagging voice in his head and listened to Steve instead.

"I always knew you'd beat me to it," Steve said with a twinge of amusement. "Getting married. Of course, I didn't know it would take another century for it to happen, but..."

Bucky glanced back at Steve and then stepped away from the window, going back to pacing while Steve still held the damn plate in his hand. "She's not doing this because she feels obligated, or because she feels bad for me, or..."

Steve raised his eyebrows and almost laughed. "You're kidding, right?"

Bucky looked at him a bit helplessly, pausing in his steps. "I don't know. I'm just..."

"It's okay," Steve assured him. "You're about to get married in a few hours. I'm pretty sure that being irrational is common in this situation."

"I just... I'm not good enough for her," Bucky said, dropping back down into the chair he'd been sitting in a few moments ago. "Or any of this."

Steve sighed, then sat down on the edge of Clint's bed, facing Bucky. "I know nothing I can say will change your mind on that, but... for what it's worth, I think she, and all of this, is exactly what you deserve."

"You're biased," Bucky pointed out.

"I am," Steve admitted. "But so are you. Just... not in the same way that I am."

Bucky fell silent for a moment, staring at the floor until he spoke again. "She's off that shot thing that she was on before. She could get pregnant any time now."

"Well, you're already a father," Steve said with a small smile. "What's a few more?"

"David's big," Bucky replied with slightly wide eyes. "He can wash his own hair and change his own clothes. He can talk. Well, communicate. But a baby... and with _this_," he held up his metal arm and let it drop. "What would I even do with one?"

"Well, I doubt you'll have to worry about that anytime soon," Steve said in an attempt to ease the sudden panic in his best friend's eyes. "It usually takes awhile to... you know... put a... bun in the... what I'm trying to say is, don't worry about it."

"How?" Bucky asked with slightly wide eyes.

"I'll tell you how," Steve replied with full confidence in his voice. "Because she's a great mother. And in the time that you've known David, you've been a great father to him, and you didn't even help make him. You're both already good parents. You'll still be good parents when a baby comes along."

Bucky still wasn't convinced of that - or at least of his half of the good parents equation - but before he could ramble some more, Steve shoved the plate at him one more time and said, "Eat. Stop thinking. Enjoy your wedding day."

Bucky shook his head and let out a breathy chuckle, finally relenting and taking the food. "Anything else?"

"Yeah," Steve nodded. "Just focus on the most important part of today."

"What's that?" Bucky asked, forcing part of the food - which was an omelet that Steve had made him - down his throat, wincing a little. It wasn't bad. He just didn't want to eat _anything_, though he was starving. Nerves, or something.

"Summer," Steve replied as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. "What else?"

Bucky grinned despite his lingering uneasiness. Steve was right. In fact, just imagining seeing her walk down the aisle - though he had no clue what kind of dress she had picked or how she was going to wear her hair or _anything_, really - it went a long way in calming his racing mind and reinforcing everything that Steve had just told him.

Of course she wasn't doing this because she felt obligated or pitied him. He couldn't believe he'd actually said that a few minutes ago. What kind of idiot _was_ he?

He had put away a few more unenthusiastic bites when there came a knock on the door, and Steve went to it as Bucky continued to slowly eat. He stared at the plate and its contents until he heard the door open and Steve say in sheer surprise, "_Thor_?"

Bucky's head shot up and his expression grew confused as he chewed. That was Thor all right, but... how?

"Captain!" Thor smiled before giving Steve the kind of shoulder clap that would seriously injure a lesser man. "It is good to see you again, my friend." Then he looked past Steve to Bucky and smiled a bit more. "And you as well!"

Bucky set the plate aside, happy to have an excuse to be done with it, then watched as Thor and then Esteban and Nicolo came filing in. The latter two looked positively glowing with delight, probably 100% due to Thor, and Bucky mostly ignored them as he stood up and gave Thor a confused smile. "How did you know...?"

"Your lady sent me an invitation!" Thor replied, as if that made perfect sense.

"I didn't know the post office could send stuff that far," Steve remarked with a grin.

Bucky paused. "You mean somebody actually _heard_ when she was yelling at the sky?"

"Of course!" Thor smiled. "Heimdall sees all."

Bucky blinked a few times and muttered, "That's not creepy at all. But I'm glad you came. Does Summer know you're here?"

As the men chatted, Esteban and Nicolo talked amongst themselves and watched, the latter sometimes taking a photo or two just _because_, and eventually, Bucky forgot why he'd had a sudden attack of nerves to begin with. He'd missed Thor as much as anyone else - the man was sunshine in almost-human form, so who could blame him? - and Esteban and Nicolo were growing on him, too.

They thought they were being sneaky by conversing in a mixture of their native tongues, but Bucky spoke both languages and knew exactly what they were saying. As Steve gave Thor a quick rundown of what had happened since his departure over six months ago, Bucky glanced over at the other two men and eavesdropped as they debating something of utmost importance.

Esteban shook his head. "No, no. Thor wins. I don't care what you say."

"Of course Thor wins, in his own specific category, but -"

"There are no buts," Esteban said rather sassily. "Thor wins."

"Thor wins what?" Bucky asked in Nicolo's native Italian, making them both turn and look at him with sudden gasps.

"You speak Italian?" Nicolo asked, eyes a bit wide.

Bucky shrugged and replied, "I don't remember learning it, but yes, I do."

"Your accent is _perfect_," Nicolo gushed, switching them all back to English. Then he tapped Esteban's shoulder and said, "Never mind. _He_ wins."

"Blasphemy!" Esteban replied, eyes narrowed.

"The hell do I win?" Bucky asked. Now Thor and Steve were paying attention to the conversation as well, watching with amusement as Nicolo drew a breath and began to explain.

"We were debating which of you was the total package. You know, looks, smarts, personality, all of these things."

"Oh," Bucky replied. "Right."

"And naturally, though I love each of you, I said Thor," Esteban said. "Because _Thor_."

Thor smiled proudly at this, and Nicolo added, "But then I said that obviously, you're all three the total package, so then we were just debating who was the most attractive."

Esteban waved his hand at Thor. "_Thor_."

"And I agreed, but then you spoke Italian," Nicolo said to Bucky, "and now I think I must... lie down for a moment and remember how to breathe."

Instead of lying down, however, Nicolo wandered off to the nearest chair and sat down, fanning himself, while Thor patted Steve's shoulder and said, "I am sorry, my friend. It must be difficult to not have been chosen by either of them."

Steve shrugged. "It's all right. I'll live."

Thor chuckled, then changed the subject a bit by saying cheerfully, "I am excited! This will be my first time at a Midgardian wedding. What are the usual customs?"

"Well," Steve began, "The bride walks down the aisle, and then everybody watches her and the groom make vows to each other. Then..."

As Steve went on, Bucky drifted off in his head and started thinking about the vows. He'd gone over them so much and had worked so hard on them with Steve, but he couldn't shake that sense of last-minute panic that _something_ about them just wasn't right.

In his head, he went over what he and Steve had written from the beginning, starting with Summer's name and going from there. He didn't get very far, though.

Eyes suddenly wide and face paling slightly, Bucky muttered, "Steve."

But Steve was still explaining American weddings to Thor. "... Then the bride tosses the bouquet, and whoever catches it is supposed to - _ow_!"

Bucky did not regret the punch in the shoulder that had gotten Steve's attention. "_Steve_," he said with a tone of the utmost, most grave importance. "Her middle name. I don't know her middle name. I can't say the vows without it."

Rubbing his shoulder, Steve looked at Bucky incredulously. "Are you serious? How do you not know her middle name?"

Bucky floundered for a moment. "I - she - I know it starts with an E. But every time I've asked what it is, she acts like she's embarrassed and she..."

"She what?" Steve asked.

Bucky shrugged. "She's very good at distracting me."

Thor laughed at that. Steve smiled and rolled his eyes, though his tone was all serious as he said, "Okay. I'll go get her middle name. Thor, stay here and make sure Bucky finishes eating."

Bucky made a face at the last part of that statement, but he was relieved all the same when Steve turned and headed out of the room in a hurry.

Meanwhile, Esteban took a seat on the edge of Clint's bed, then looked down when his shoe seemed to catch something on the floor. He then reached down and, gaining the attention of everyone, picked up a pair of black lace panties from the floor and then asked, "Whose are these?"

"None of your damn business," came a reply from a lump in the bed that Bucky, and everybody else, had thought was just blankets, but it turned out to actually be Clint, who had apparently been there all along.

Esteban immediately let out a high pitched screech and jumped off of the bed, having just been scared to death, and Clint sat up and looked at everybody with highly unamused eyes. He peered down at Esteban, currently sitting on the floor trying to catch his breath and cursing in Spanish, and then he reached and snatched the underwear away before muttering, "It's like nobody thinks that I could possibly find a woman willing to have sex with me."

Thor and Bucky exchanged a quiet look, and Bucky decided that if nothing else, having his wedding at this zoo was worth it just for the entertaining distractions that it provided.

But he'd feel better once Steve had gotten Summer's middle name.

* * *

With David now outside and showing off his new cape to the others as he ran around happily, Summer had her hair and makeup officially done and now had Darcy's help along with Natasha's. Having just shoved about three donuts in her face - she didn't share Bucky's issues with eating that day, clearly - the next steps were to get her lingerie ensemble on, and then the dress, but getting the lingerie on just right proved a bit time-consuming on its own. She didn't dare complain, though, because the lingerie was gorgeous and Natasha made her look at herself in the mirror once she had it all on.

With her hair swept up into a simple but timeless and pretty hold, her lips stained a deep red and her eyes incredibly blue underneath and above the smoky shadow surrounding them, even _she_ had to admit - she looked pretty good like this. The lingerie was silk and vintage-inspired, of course, a subtle blush pink color and incredibly flattering on her figure. She had pulled out all the stops - garter belt and stockings in addition to the obvious bra and panties, and a pair of killer high heels that would, with any luck, be the nail in Bucky's proverbial coffin. He hadn't seen her wear heels in over a year. And he had never seen her do anything like she was going to do later that night.

Taking stock of her appearance in the mirror, Summer drew a breath and then looked to the girls as she asked, "Well?"

"I'd do you," Darcy replied.

"Perfect," Natasha smiled.

Smiling at their responses, Summer turned back to the mirror and nodded. "Yep. Okay. I'm happy with this. All right, help me get the dress on before I start freaking out and decide I'm actually hideous."

Natasha scoffed and Darcy rolled her eyes, but before Natasha could grab Summer's dress, there was a loud and frantic knocking at the door.

"Who is it?" Summer called, not going any closer to the door quite yet.

"It's me, Steve," came the reply. "And I need your middle name."

"My what?" she squinted, moving closer now to be able to hear him better.

"Your middle name," Steve repeated. "For the vows. Bucky says he doesn't know it."

Summer paused and grimaced, cursing under her breath. "Do I have to? He could just use my first and last name."

"He's pretty adamant," Steve replied through the door. "He'll probably come up here himself if I don't come back with it."

"Fine," she rolled her eyes. "Fine. Um... it's... uh..."

She crept closer to the door and then, apparently not realizing that everybody was going to hear it later anyway, said quietly through the tiny crack between the door and the wall, "Evelyn."

"Evelyn?" Steve shouted back, so loudly that Summer winced and touched her suddenly pained ear.

"Yes. Evelyn."

"That's not so bad," Steve replied. "I actually like that name."

"And you're like a hundred years old!" Summer replied. "Now go back and get ready. Oh, and send Nicolo back, because I'm about to get my dress on."

"Yes, ma'am," Steve replied, and when she heard his footsteps trailing away down the hall, she turned to find Natasha and Darcy looking at her strangely. "What?"

"You're getting married today and your groom doesn't even know your middle name?" Darcy asked with both of her eyebrows raised.

Summer shrugged. "Well, he will in a few minutes. But that's not important now. Let's get this thing on me," she said, looking up at her hanging dress like it was a mountain she had to climb. And in a way, it was.

Nicolo soon arrived back at her room, and he documented both women getting into their dresses. The cake was delivered downstairs as this was happening, and right when Natasha had zipped Summer up, her phone dinged with a text announcing Paul and his family's arrival.

Things were starting to move fast. Darcy sat in the corner finishing off Summer's donuts while she stuck her head out of the window and called down to David, telling him to get inside and go get dressed. Per his own request, he would be getting ready with Bucky, and now that she had almost everything on, she was damn near ready.

But there were still a few more finishing touches. Keeping up with the old tradition of something old, something borrowed, something new, and something blue, Natasha supplied her something borrowed with gorgeous pair of opal earrings that matched her ring perfectly. Then she also supplied her something blue by pulling out a little lacy blue garter, the one that was for Bucky to throw later, and Summer almost fell over as a result of being stupid enough to try to get it on her thigh while standing up in heels and a ball gown.

Once that ordeal was over, Natasha smiled and told Summer as she examined her finished self in the mirror, "For something new, your dress covers that. And something old, well... you've got your groom for that."

Summer laughed, and it was a light, airy sound that was pleasing to even her own ears. Now that the time was drawing closer - less than an hour away now - it suddenly couldn't come fast enough.

"Thank you, Nat, for everything you've done," Summer said quietly and sincerely, smiling at her maid of honor. Natasha nodded and smiled back, looking even more stunning than usual in her deep red floor-length dress. It had a sweetheart neckline to match Summer's and a mostly open back all the way down to the waist, and it was perfect for what Summer had wanted for her. She didn't want Nat to dress down to make Summer shine more. She wanted them both to be ridiculously hot and eye-catching, and she was pretty confident that they'd both achieved just that.

Then she turned to Darcy and smiled, "And thank you so much, too. You've done a lot for me, and not just today. You're freaking awesome."

"Finally, someone gets it!" Darcy joked before smiling. "But yeah, you're totally welcome."

Summer then impulsively drew both women into a hug, and Nicolo made sure to catch it from several angles. It might have been cheesy, but she didn't care. She was surrounded by some of the best people she'd ever been lucky enough to meet, and it helped ease the sting of not having much family there to speak of.

Her parents were watching from somewhere, she was sure of it. Her grandmother too, only she was probably yelling from whatever cloud she was perched on for Summer to cover up her cleavage and eat a sandwich or two while she was at it. She would have given anything to hear some of her ranting and a few of her outdated opinions too, because it would have been followed by a big hug and words of love that she just couldn't replace.

But that was okay. It was just the way that life worked, and a few moments after the impromptu group hug, there was a knock at her door and a ginger head that popped inside the room with a stupid smile for her.

"Oh my God," Paul said, holding little flower girl Marina in his arms as he took in the sight of his sister in her full bridal glory. He was speechless for a good long while, until Sarah came in the room as well and gasped with delight.

Summer grinned at them both and asked, "Oh my God good or oh my God bad?"

Paul replied by handing the baby off to Sarah, then marching right up to Summer and very carefully but firmly enveloping her in a hug. She smiled and guessed, "Good, then?"

He nodded, and when he pulled away, she was surprised to see actual tears suddenly glistening in his blue eyes that matched hers. But it all made sense when he then said, "I wish Mom and Dad were here for this. And Grandma."

"Me too," she replied quietly.

"You look beautiful," he told her sincerely, all of his usual jokes nowhere to be found at the moment. "You really do."

She smiled, then felt tears start forming in her own eyes that she quickly tried to blink away, before they fell and ruined her makeup. "Thank you. Now stop, because you're gonna make me cry."

He chuckled and nodded, then hugged her again, and as the countdown to the ceremony grew ever closer to concluding, Summer's anticipation began to reach critical levels.

So far, everything was perfect. Now everything just had to stay that way.

* * *

In the last hour before the ceremony, Bucky had successfully procured Summer's middle name, gotten dressed, helped David get dressed in his own little suit, and watched Clint finally overcome his hangover and start looking like a human being again. With everything coming together and time running out, he felt similar to how he usually did before a mission; ready, focused determined to achieve success, and just anxious enough to keep him on his toes. It just so happened that this particular mission was one that only came along once in a lifetime, and there was definitely no room for error here.

Clint headed out once he was ready, and Bucky checked the clock. Only fifteen minutes until he had to be outside. Now it was just him, Steve, and David in the room, and Bucky knew what to do with his last little bit of time before the ceremony. He just wasn't sure _how_.

Steve was on the phone with Nat, coordinating with her on the timing of everything, and as Bucky waited for him to get off the phone, he reached into the pocket inside of his jacket and retrieved a small little gold band inside of it. He then walked over to David, who was frowning and plucking at the suspenders his mother was forcing him to wear, and got his attention with a quiet call of his name. David looked up, and Bucky smiled, kneeling down in front of him.

"I've gotta give you this now," Bucky explained, holding up the ring for David to see. "Can you take care of this for me until it's time for me to put this on her finger, like we practiced?"

David nodded immediately, more than up to the task, and he took the ring and held it with both hands. Then David gave him a hug, and Bucky smiled into it and squeezed him gently before patting his back and saying, "All right. Go on and head back to her. She's gonna need your help soon."

David then nodded very seriously, and went scampering out of the room, nearly knocking into Steve's legs in the process, but Steve dodged him just in time. Once the door was shut, Steve chuckled and hung up the phone. "Well, someone's excited."

Bucky nodded, hands in his pockets as he straightened up and drew a breath. "Yeah. She almost ready?"

Steve nodded. "We should head out in a few minutes."

Bucky nodded back, feeling like he was in a bit of a state of perpetual nervous nodding. Making himself stop, he then looked up when Steve asked him a question.

"You okay? Nervous?"

He smiled faintly. "Little."

"See," Steve grinned, "normally this is when I'd offer you a drink to take the edge off, but since that won't help you and I left all my horse tranquilizers at home..."

Despite himself, Bucky let out a chuckle. "I'll be all right."

"Yeah I know," Steve smiled. "Always are."

There was something nice about those few, unassuming words. They both knew he _wasn't_ always all right, but that didn't seem to be the point. The point was the undying faith that Steve had in him, faith that he was used to now but had been completely bewildered by when he had first started to regain his memories. It hadn't made any sense back then and sometimes it still didn't now, but it never changed. It was unwavering, and one of the things Bucky could always count on regardless of what was happening in the world around him.

And so, after far too long of keeping his next words inside, Bucky quietly found the courage to speak them. "Thank you."

Steve looked a bit surprised. "For what?"

"Everything," Bucky replied. When no other word seemed to quite cover the depth of what he was trying to say, he simply repeated it. "_Everything_."

And the nice thing was, that was all Steve needed to hear to understand. Bucky's eyes said everything else that his words didn't, and that was more than enough for Steve.

Bucky didn't flinch at the hug that came next, nor did he stand there awkwardly for a moment before reciprocating just as reluctantly. Instead, he hugged Steve back immediately, and there were none of the feelings of confusion or guilt or an irrational sudden need to get away, all of which used to be the case whenever this would happen during the early days of his recovery.

Life wasn't perfect, and neither was his head, but compared to what it had been before, it was damn close.

After drawing away, Steve smiled at him and held on to his right shoulder for a moment. "Ready to do this?"

Before Bucky could answer, the door opened behind them, and Sam's head poked inside the room. "Time to get moving, guys."

Steve nodded, then turned and gave Bucky one more wide smile. "Let's go."

Bucky nodded, then straightened out his suit and compulsively ran a hand through his hair before following Steve out of the bedroom. Everything became incredibly real the moment he stepped outside and saw the arch, the little white chairs with flowers and fabric draped along the back, and the little aisle that he would be watching Summer walk down in only a matter of minutes.

Even more striking was all of the people there to witness this day. Having been alone for _decades_, forgotten and considered less than human by those who'd kept him alive, nothing could have felt better than knowing that he would never be alone like that again.

Steve, standing next to him, gave him a smile and gently nudged him forward. Bucky smiled back, no longer nervous and instead incredibly _impatient_ to experience one of the defining moments of his life.

* * *

As it turned out, getting from an upstairs bedroom to outside of the house required no less than four people helping Summer - Natasha holding up her length veil, Darcy and Paul holding up her dress in the back, and Esteban holding the front. David stood at the bottom of the stairs next to Nicolo, watching with wide eyes as what looked like a ball of fluff slowly descended the narrow stairs.

"If one of you makes me trip, I swear to God -"

"We've got you honey," Esteban assured her, walking backwards down the stairs in front of her.

"Can someone please tell me who the sassy Spanish man is?" Paul asked.

"I am Esteban," he replied. "Unofficial stylist of the Earth's mightiest heroes."

"Oh. Right on," Paul said, and when Nicolo came into view as they made their way down, he added, "Hey, Summer, you didn't tell me you were friends with Bradley Cooper."

"See?" Darcy exclaimed. "I'm not the only one who thinks they could be twins!"

Summer ignored the various banters happening around her, focusing on getting down the stairs in one piece, and luckily, she made it there without incident. After that, David and Nicolo followed her outside of the house, through a back door, and from there, she headed directly to the back of the barn, which was where she and the rest of the wedding party was preparing for their walk from.

All the while, her heart was pounding out of her chest and she felt like she had taken about five shots of epinephrine, but besides that, she was totally calm and collected.

It was a brisk and tedious walk towards the barn, and nobody let the skirt of her dress touch the ground once on the way there. As soon as they got there, Darcy ran off due to her job, which was being in charge of the music, and Esteban didn't linger either, considering it his job to oversee everything and make sure it all went as smoothly as possible. That left Summer with Natasha, Paul, and David, and very soon after they arrived, Sarah and her oldest and youngest daughter popped up as well.

"Oh, wow," nine year old Maya said, dressed to match the wedding's colors and looking at Summer with enormous brown eyes. "You look like Cinderella. But _better_."

"Thank you," Summer beamed, smiling even wider when Marina in Sarah's arms looked at her and then giggled happily. "Oh my God, I'm gonna throw up, I'm so excited."

"Don't do that," Natasha said, fluffing out her veil and the back of her dress. "Okay. As soon as Steve gets here, I guess, we'll be ready."

And right on cue, out came Steve from around the corner, smiling brightly and then freezing a bit once he looked at Summer for the first time that day.

"_Wow_," he said quietly, echoing Maya's sentiments from a moment before. "You look _amazing_."

Summer squealed a little bit, and then Esteban came jogging back, this time bearing her and Natasha's bouquets. Steve's eyes then travelled to Natasha as the girls took hold of the arrangements, which were a mixture of white, cream, and rich red roses, and some little touches of ribbons and pearls within the bouquets. The designs were all Esteban, and that earned him another gush of gratitude from Summer before he dashed off yet again.

"Phew," Summer sighed, holding the heavy bouquet in her right hand and wondering aloud, "Is it time yet, or..."

As if to answer her, the first sounds of the music began to play, and Summer felt her heart suddenly drop. She reminded herself to breathe and began nervously fiddling with her hair and her dress, while Sarah got Maya and Marina ready to head down the aisle first.

_This was happening_. It was finally happening, and Summer felt like she was about to have a heart attack and throw up the donuts she'd packed away an hour ago, but she had to have brief talk with David first.

"Okay, David, listen up," she said, taking his hand with her free one. "The girls are going to walk first, and then it's your turn. Don't walk too fast, and hold on to the rings really tightly, okay?"

He nodded, expression fully serious. Summer smiled and then patted his cheek with her hand. "Okay. I love you. Are you excited?"

He nodded furiously. She smiled wider and then leaned down to plant a kiss on his cheek, though she then had to wipe her lipstick off of him with her thumb. "All right. Stand behind Marina, wait until she's halfway there, and then start walking. Steve and Nat will be right behind you. Then it'll be my turn."

He smiled widely, hugged her through the fluff of her skirt, and then wheeled around with a deadly-serious expression as he stared at the back of Maya's head and waited for her to get moving. And all too soon, she was.

Holding her little sister, who was clutching a little white wicker basket of rose petals and wearing an ivory dress with red trim and an enormous red flower in her ginger curls, Maya began the walk with deliberate and graceful steps befitting of a little girl like her. The strains of the music grew a bit louder, and Summer was utterly silent as she tried to remember how to breathe. She gave David a small nudge when it was his turn to start walking, and when he did, he walked perfectly according her instructions.

Then it was Steve and Natasha's turn. Steve gave Summer a reassuring and happy smile as Natasha gave her a short hug, telling her, "Just relax. Remember your vows?"

Summer nodded, unable to speak for fear of throwing up if she did. Natasha then gave her a small smile and turned around, linking her arm with Steve's, and then they were off.

Now it was just Summer and Paul, left alone for a few brief but poignant moments as they waited for their turn.

Summer looked up at her brother and smiled, gulping down a lump in her throat, and Paul clenched his jaw and started gnawing on his lips to keep from crying like a baby.

"I know I haven't always been the most supportive of you two and I've had my dick moments," Paul suddenly said, tone quiet and just a little bit wobbly. "But I want you to know that I couldn't be happier for you than I am right now. And I'm going to start crying now."

Summer smiled and pulled him into one last hug, using all of her willpower to not cry herself. It wasn't easy, but she held the years at bay, and then told him as she pulled away, "I love you, nerd."

"Love you too, brat," he chuckled, sniffing the tears back and then looking up when the music changed. That was their cue. He turned to her and asked with a grin, "You ready?"

She took a deep, shaky breath. "Yes. Just please don't let me trip and fall. My legs are shaking and I want to puke and I'm kind of dizzy and -"

"I've got you," Paul assured her, holding her arm securely in his. "Come on. Let's get you married."

With an anxious chuckle, Summer then let Paul gently begin guiding her along the path that would take her to the archway and the man waiting beneath it. It felt like the walk took forever and she expected her legs to give out with each new step she took, but they did not, and she smiled when she looked up to see Nicolo taking photos of them as they walked.

Then, at the end of the trail, she looked down and saw little rose petals on the ground. They led to a corner, hidden by a handful of trees, and that was where Paul turned them and paused. It was the start of the aisle, and as Summer stopped and laid her eyes on upon the gorgeous decorations, arch, and everything else that everybody had worked so hard on for _her. _It was all beautiful, exactly what she had wanted and so much more, and yet she could barely spare any of it a second glance, because all she could see was the man standing at the end of the aisle, underneath the arch.

He looked perfect. His suit was not the traditional black or white but a dark red wine color, and it fit him perfectly and would have made her drool had their eyes not instantly met across the distance. And even from as far away as she stood, she could see how he stopped breathing the moment he saw her.

As long as she lived, she would never forget that moment, nor the ones that came after. Paul gave her arm a gentle tug, and then, she was walking down the aisle.

* * *

In the months leading up to this day, Bucky had wondered what this particular moment would be like. Once it had arrived, he found out that not even his wildest dream could have ever even begun to live up to the real thing.

Every last trace of his anxiety was gone, replaced by the sheer reverence he felt for the woman who was slowly, and with a little smile on her face, making her way towards him. Every single eye was on her, but she never looked away from him and never broke their locked gaze once. He did, though, but only once, and it was to take in the fullness of her utterly perfect bridal ensemble.

He thought the dress suited her perfectly. He'd never seen her in anything like it. It was fitted _incredibly_ well in the subtly beaded bodice, and the sweetheart neckline provided _quite_ the sight as a result. Then, at her waist, the dress earned its title of a ball gown, flaring out into a moderately voluminous skirt that was layered with lace and other kinds of material he couldn't name and didn't care to. It flowed to the ground, covering her feet and trailing behind her in a train, all of it ivory and perfectly matching the themes of the wedding that she had insisted upon.

Her lips, he realized as his eyes moved back up, were the color of his suit. And her big blue eyes were still fully focused on him and nothing else. Her elegantly swept-up hair and long, flowing veil finished off the look perfectly.

"Still breathing?" Steve nudged Bucky from behind. Bucky didn't answer, too enraptured to move a muscle.

Once she was close enough for him to reach out to, the smile on her face grew to new heights, and the music gently tapered off into silence. She and Paul came to a stop just in front of him, and Bucky stared at her with what was surely pure stupidity on his face, but he truly couldn't help it. He saw the love and the excitement in her eyes, and he was sure that he'd never seen her more happy.

His brain only somewhat returned when he heard Clint ask the traditional question that came at this point in the ceremony. "Who gives the bride away?"

"I do," Paul choked out, and only then did Bucky realize that her brother was actually fully _crying_.

Then Paul took Summer's hand and held it out for Bucky to take. He let his eyes flicker over then to Paul, and they shared a moment of silent understanding. Bucky nodded, then took Summer's left hand in his right one. She handed her bouquet off to Natasha, and then he took that hand as well, turning her so that they stood in front of Clint, facing one another.

Her eyes were shimmering with unshed tears, and her lips were stretched in what was quite possibly a completely permanent and sweet smile. Her hands gripped both of his tightly, and he ran his thumbs over them both, smiling back just as tenderly and barely hearing Clint start his speech.

"We're gathered here today to witness the union of two people who... well... honestly, I'm convinced were just _meant_ to be together."

Summer glanced up at Clint in slight surprise, and Bucky did too.

"There's couples who 'beat the odds', and then there's these two, who by most stretches of logic, should never have even met. And yet here they are. And if that doesn't give the rest of us hope, I don't know what does."

Summer smiled and chuckled quietly, then turned back to Bucky and gave his hands another squeeze.

"I could go on all day about how sickeningly perfect they are for each other and how I've gotten new cavities just from being in the same room as these two, but we'll hear all that in the vows, so... with God, Thor, most of the Avengers, Ron Weasley, and all of their friends and family as witnesses..."

Summer laughed then, looking away once more as Clint went on. This time she looked out to those who were there, watching this moment unfold from their seats, and he watched her eyes water even more as a result.

On her side, what remained of her family sat in the front row. Paul and Sarah and their horde of kids, and David, waiting patiently for his cue to hand the rings over and watching with excitement on his cute little face. On Bucky's side, there was the closest thing to family he had aside from Steve, which was his team. Thor, Sam, Wanda and Vision lined his row, and he would appreciate the gesture forever. Behind them, Tony and Pepper sat with Esteban, who was already in tears and being comforted by the highly amused Tony. Bucky was surprised that Tony had come, but now that he thought about it, maybe it wasn't surprising at all.

He had drifted off and stopped listening to Clint just long enough to be taken by surprise when the Avenger/minister said, "All right. Let's start with the bride's vows."

Bucky froze for a moment, eyes again locking with Summer's as she took a deep breath, no doubt incredibly nervous about this part. But she was brave, and she proved it yet again by smiling up at him and starting to speak as he gave her his undivided attention.

"I spent a long time trying to figure out what exactly to say in my vows," she began, her voice quiet and eyes soft as they stayed locked with his. "Nothing seemed good enough, or it sounded too cheesy. But then I realized I don't care and that I'm allowed to be as cheesy as I want today."

He smiled, feeling her hands grip his a bit more tightly as she went on, taking a deep breath before she did. "If somebody had told me when I first met you that we would be standing here together, saying vows to each other and getting married, I would have laughed hard enough to do my weird snorting thing and then called the guys in white coats to come pick them up. I had no idea that I was taking care of someone that I was going to fall in love with. And I _really_ had no idea that I was taking care of a man who would become a father to my son."

The smile on Bucky's face grew a bit more serious at that point, but Summer's smile only grew as she went on. "I've watched you grow from a man who was scared and couldn't understand why I, or anyone else, would help him or care about him, to a man who is the single most fearless and caring person I know. You've been through more than any one person should ever have to face, but you didn't let it destroy you. You have no idea how strong you are and how much you've helped _me_ grow."

Bucky wasn't smiling anymore. He couldn't, feeling his heart swell more with each new word that she said. She looked down, pausing a moment, then went on, "I had no idea what it meant to be in love before you. I had no idea what it meant to _be_ loved, or treated well, or even... valued at all, by someone I was with. You're everything I ever wanted and never thought I'd get, because I didn't think it existed. And I don't know if I'll ever get used to it, but I'm not sure that I want to either, because I never want to take you for granted."

He watched a stray tear fall from her eye, and before she could reach up to wipe it away, he did it for her. She paused, staring at him for a moment before she made herself keep going.

"I promise to love you, take care of you, and always be here for you, until the day I die," she said. "I promise to be your wife, your friend, your..." she paused and looked around before saying a bit goofily, "_lover_." Bucky smiled, and there were a handful of chuckles from the chairs. "And your helper, your partner. Anything you ever need me to be. I love you, and not just because I wouldn't be standing here today if you hadn't saved my grandmother's life in 1944, or saved mine a _lot_ over the last few years. I love you because you're _you_, and you love me and my son in a way that I never thought anyone ever would. And that makes you more to me than even my husband or my best friend. It makes you my hero."

And with that, and another few tears that ran down her cheek, Summer concluded her self-written vows, and Bucky had no idea _what_ to do. He stared at her, well aware of how his eyes were shining now, and he wasn't sure that he could talk around the giant lump in his throat. He also knew that there was no way he could follow what she said with what he and Steve had written. It just wasn't good enough. In fact, _nothing_ was.

Even Clint seemed to have the sniffles. "Your turn, Barnes. Good luck."

He exhaled a bit helplessly, adjusting his hold on Summer's hands and shifting on his feet. He glanced back at Steve for half a second, then spent a long, silent moment in mild panic.

Finally, he decided simply to _screw it_. He was good at improvising, and that was exactly what he had to do now. Only it would have been a lot easier if they were alone and didn't have an audience. He wasn't that great with this kind of thing to begin with.

But he remained calm and he focused once again on Summer and Summer alone. He let go of the script in his head, and rather than speak from memory, he spoke from the heart.

* * *

It was awhile before he spoke. But when he did... _man_, did he speak.

Standing there under the arch, in front of everyone they knew and holding her hands in his increasingly shaky and twitchy ones, Bucky began his own vows just a handful of almost too-quiet words.

"You saved my life," he said, looking down at their hands. Then he looked up and met her gaze. "You _still_ save my life."

She smiled gently, sniffing back her tears and soothing her thumbs over his knuckles, silently encouraging him to go on. She could tell that he was tuning out the world, focusing that laser-like vision upon her and only her.

"I don't deserve you," he said, still almost too quietly for anyone else to hear. His eyes flickered to David for half a second. "Or him. But I'll spend the rest of my life trying to. And I..." he looked down again, furrowing his brows slightly, and when he looked up again, Summer could see how hard he was fighting not to cry. He paused, shook his head imperceptibly, and said, "I remember being younger and... different, imagining this. Getting married, what it would feel like, who it would be with. And now I know why it never felt right. Because this feels right, and... I'd walk through hell all over again if it meant finding you and... feeling okay again."

She knew he wasn't reading this from a pre-written script. It was obvious, and it made it all the more special. She couldn't keep the tears back, and as they flowed and threatened to wreck her makeup, he surprised her by not being done quite yet.

"I love you too," he said, again reaching up to wipe her tears away. "I love everything about you. I say this all the time, but you're perfect. I mean it. There's nothing I'd change about you. _Nothing_."

His fingers lingered on her cheek, and she smiled up at him and soaked up his simple but utterly sincere and perfect words. His thumb traced feather-light over her jaw as he added quietly, "You're the love of my life. And I'll never leave you."

All of his vows summed up into those two little sentences, he was finished, and all Summer wanted to do was throw herself at him and kiss him. It was hard, but she controlled herself, and instead, she hoped that the smile on her lips and the tears in her eyes told him how very perfect his words had been.

After a bit of silence, Clint drew a heavy breath. "Well then. Let's have the rings."

Heart speeding up all over again, Summer looked at David and motioned for him to come up. He all but leapt out of his seat, bounding up to them and holding up each ring in each hand. After they took them, Bucky high-fived David, and the little boy giggled before running back to sit next to his uncle.

"All right. Let's start with the bride. Can you stop crying long enough to repeat after me?"

She laughed and nodded, though honestly, she wasn't totally sure.

But she was a trooper. As Clint read the traditional final vows, she repeated each one dutifully, though her voice shook and more tears came with each new word. She had dreamed of saying these words as a little girl - _to have and to hold, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, til death do us part _\- and she had never ever imagined that when the time came to say them for real, she and the man that she was pledging herself to would have already faced most of those obstacles listed in the vows and overcome them. They were already battle-tested, and all the stronger for it.

Then, at the end of the vows, she slipped a simple gold band on to Bucky's right ring finger. She thought it was fitting, as they always managed to be traditional in a distinctly non-traditional way... if that made sense. And more importantly, he had told her when they bought the rings that he wanted to wear his on his right hand, so that he could fully feel the weight of it and feel it the way that she could feel her ring on her left hand.

Then, once his ring was safely on, it was his turn. He seemed to relish this, turning the band in his flesh fingers while his metal hand held hers, and his eyes flickered up to hers as he repeated after Clint. She didn't miss the slightly mischievous glint in his gaze, nor the little smirk on his lips as he said her full name for the first time.

"I, James Buchanan Barnes, take you, Summer _Evelyn_ McAdams, to be my wife..."

She blushed when he said her full name, her middle name rolling off his tongue in a deliberately silky, teasing way, and she found that she couldn't be embarrassed by the name when he said it like _that_. As he repeated the vows to her, he kept his eyes on hers and slid off her engagement ring. In its place, he placed a gold band that matched his, and then slid the opal and diamond ring back on her finger.

"... 'Til death do us part," he said quietly, concluding the vows, and taking her hand back into his.

Behind them, Clint then smiled and said, "So then, with the power given to me by the Internet and the state of Pennsylvania, I know pronounce you..."

Summer waited impatiently during Clint's intentionally dramatic pause, her smile stuck to her face and eyes fixed upon Bucky's, like the world would end if she looked away.

"... Husband and wife," Clint finally finished. "Go on and kiss your bride, we all know you're dying to."

Bucky gave a breathless chuckle, then let go of her hands to slide his around her waist. Her hands immediately went up to his shoulders, and as he drew closer, her arms wound around his neck. All the while, they smiled at each other like idiots, only closing their eyes when his forehead came to rest on hers. Then he kissed her, both of them still smiling, and it was soft and sweet and perfect.

Then there was loud, hearty cheering, and they both laughed into the kiss. Bucky drew away just an inch or two, opened his eyes just long enough for Summer to catch a little tiny glint of mischief within them, and then before she knew it, his arms around her tightened and he pulled her all the way against him before turning and dipping her backwards. The sudden motion made her stomach flutter almost violently, and then the cheers doubled in volume as he _really_ kissed her.

And it was even _more_ perfect.

She savored every last bit of the kiss before he pulled her back up, still holding her tightly as her eyes opened and they smiled at each other with clear and palpable excitement. His right hand slipped into her left one, their rings touching one another, and then he turned them around, in front of the aisle that would now walk down together.

They were finally, officially, _married_. And only one other person was just as excited about it as they were.

David, unable to resist, left his seat and came running their way, and neither of them even considered doing anything but taking his hand and letting him walk down the aisle with them. It was perfect, just as everything else had been, and Summer would never forget that walk and what it was like to see the happiness and, occasionally, tears on the faces of their family and friends as they walked past each one of them.

If a girl's wedding day was supposed to be the happiest of her life, then this one was certainly living up to that expectation. And if she had to guess, Summer thought that it might just be true for Bucky as well.

* * *

If Summer had expected something of a respite following the vows and the _getting_ _married_ part of the wedding, she quickly realized that this was the part of the wedding that was actually the _busiest_.

While she had just wanted to steal a few moments behind the barn with Bucky and squeal to him with sheer glee in officially being his wife - which still sounded _so weird_ \- apparently, they had to get down to business and start taking pictures.

First, they posed for pictures under the archway. The first round of photos were of just the two of them, some of them serious and some more lighthearted, though Bucky wasn't quite sure what to do when Summer told him to make a "stupid face". What resulted were pictures of him looking confused while she stuck her tongue out, or laughing at her while she tried to look as ridiculous as possible. For the rest, however, they looked every bit as happy and perfect as they felt.

Then, they took photos with David, and after that, the rest of Summer's family joined in. It was like posing amid a veritable sea of children, and when Paul made a remark that it was but only a glimpse of Bucky's future, he made a face that was forever captured by the camera and would surely be laughed about for months to come.

But the best photos came next, after Paul and Sarah dragged the kids away and Steve was next to pose with them. Summer insisted on stepping away after a few and having Nicolo take a few pictures of Steve and Bucky alone. After that, it was one Avenger after another who came and joined in, until Summer was the one normal person amid a bunch of superheroes who were each trying to outdo the other in terms of looking more ridiculous. Tony even jumped in, though only to try to grab Steve and give him a kiss on his cheek, all while Summer tried in vain to lift Thor's hammer, which required her to bend over and thus caused Bucky's eyes to glue themselves to certain parts of her that decided it was a good time to try to pop out of her dress. It was, in other words, exactly what she imagined trying to take group photos with the Avengers would be like - sheer chaos, but the kind she'd look back on one day and laugh a whole lot over.

After _that_, Bucky and Summer managed to get a few moments alone, or at least _mostly_ alone, because it was time for pictures of them alone together in various pretty places around the farm. Nicolo led them around from one place to the other, and Summer learned firsthand about his truly keen eye for photography while also quietly talking to her new _husband_ in between shots.

She wondered if she'd ever get used to calling him that.

"So," she said as she and Bucky made their way to the barn, her left hand clasped in his right and her free one holding up the skirt of her dress, "how do you like the dress?"

He turned his head her way and grinned at her, eyes sweeping down from her hair all the way to the ground under her feet. "It's perfect. It suits you." Then his eyes locked with hers again. "And I can tell by how tall you look that you're wearing heels."

She grinned a bit mischievously and walked ahead of him, turning around and walking backwards until her back was resting against the side of the barn. Nicolo was some yards away, changing the settings on his camera, so Summer took the opportunity to tease Bucky a bit by reaching down to lift up her skirt just enough for him to catch a glimpse of her heels.

"Like it?" she grinned, extending her leg just a bit and watching his eyes drop down and all but feast on the sight of her expensive, _very_ high heels. Then she dropped the skirt down, because he was only allowed a _glimpse_ for now. He could have more later.

He immediately groaned and invaded her space, hands going to her waist as he pressed her gently to the wall and kissed her. Assuming that Nicolo was still busy, Summer slid her hands into Bucky's hair and drew him closer, letting him deepen the kiss and reveling in knowing how much he was going to _freak out_ later, once they were alone and she could give him her surprise. The fact that he suspected nothing only made her even giddier inside.

He broke for air after a moment or two, and Summer took the opportunity to _really_ take him in. His suit was perfect, expertly tailored to his body and even better than she had imagined it in her head. The incredibly dark red color of it not only matched the wedding but looked divine on him and made his blue eyes stand out more than they already did. She slid her hand down over his matching tie, down to the first button of his waistcoat, and then said, "I really like this suit."

"Yeah, me too," he replied, clearly enjoying the way her eyes raked over him. "You'll probably like it better off, though."

"Well, _duh_," she chuckled before grabbing his tie just under the knot and pulling him in for another kiss, though they didn't stop at just one.

When they eventually separated, smiles on both of their faces as they looked at one another with a distinctly _newlywed_ sort of daze, Summer heard a shuttering sound and glanced over towards Nicolo. Apparently, he had been snapping photos the whole time.

"You two barely need direction," he shrugged with a smile, dropping the camera for a minute. "Although, next, can you lean your head back against the wall, Summer, while he kisses your neck?"

"Okay," she replied gamely, doing exactly as Nicolo said and following his directions to a T. She tried not to giggle when Bucky's kisses became a bit ticklish, because Nicolo had then told her to close her eyes and remain serious looking, but it wasn't easy.

After a handful of more pictures, Darcy came running up to them with a certain item in her hands, panting slightly as she explained, "Esteban told me to make sure you pose with this in front of the barn."

Summer took the thing with a smile, recognizing it as the burlap banner she had ordered some weeks ago. It spelled out the words _Mr. &amp; Mrs. Barnes_, and as Summer held it out by both ends to look it over, she laughed.

"Because we're Mr. and Mrs. Barnes, and we're in front of a _barn_," she said, snorting somewhat unattractively.

"Dude," Darcy asked, eyeing said barn, "is this _the_ barn? The one you guys banged in a bunch?"

"Yes, but it was only twice," Summer replied.

"Three times," Bucky corrected her quietly. When Summer looked at him in mild confusion, he explained, "The second time was... twice."

"Oh, right!" Summer grinned. "How could I forget _that_?"

"I wanna see the sex barn," Darcy said, heading towards the big red doors of the barn just as Clint was walking by a short distance away.

"It's not a sex barn, dammit! What's wrong with you people?"

Darcy turned her head and called back with a roll of her eyes, "Oh please, like you wouldn't totally go for a roll in the hay if you could."

"Who says I haven't?" Clint replied, smirking a little before disappearing past a corner up ahead.

"With who?" Darcy asked, though her question fell on deaf ears.

Summer shrugged. "He's banging somebody, but I have no idea who."

"Well, whatever," Darcy sighed, opening the doors and heading inside. "Let's see what's so magical about this barn."

Summer, holding on to Bucky's hand, followed Darcy inside and so did Nicolo, purely out of curiosity. When Summer's eyes fell upon a particular pile of hay in the corner, she squeaked, "Oh my God! Our little pile is still there, exactly the way it was!"

"Do you mean to tell me that's the exact same pile of hay you two did the nasty on like a year and a half ago?" Darcy asked, eyes slightly wide.

"Yup," Summer grinned, feeling oddly nostalgic about the whole thing.

"I guess it makes sense that Clint didn't want to... touch it or... feed it to his animals," Bucky reasoned.

"Yeah," Darcy agreed. "Like this is gross, but in a weirdly hot way."

"Totally," Summer agreed with a smile.

After a few moments of silence, Nicolo asked, "Am I going to have to photograph you two with this... hay?"

"Pretty much," Summer nodded. "It's gotta happen now."

"Well, all right then," Nicolo shrugged, surely having granted much stranger requests in the past anyway.

For the next forty five minutes or so, the trio continued to work on getting all of the posed wedding photos out of the way. Most turned out perfectly, and Summer discovered yet another hidden talent of Bucky's, which was staring at the camera with all the smoldering intensity of a male supermodel. But when he wasn't having eye sex with the camera - or her - they were laughing or giving each other looks that ultimately _made_ the other laugh. It was so _easy_, and it was fun enough to completely distract Summer from how suddenly starving she was.

Lucky for her, however, once the pictures were done, that meant that next came the reception, and that meant food. After dancing, of course. And figuring out exactly where the reception even _was_.

* * *

Following behind Natasha and Esteban, Bucky kept his hands carefully covering Summer's eyes as they were led to a rather large tent that had been hiding on the edge of the property the entire day without him or Summer noticing at all. David trailed behind them and was adorably helping keep Summer's dress off of the ground, and Bucky wondered exactly what awaited under this tent the closer they drew to it.

"You know," Summer said as they walked, "I ordered most of the decorations and kinda know what to expect here, probably, so I don't think the eye covering thing is really necessary..."

"Shush," Natasha said as she led them inside the tent and looked around. _Everybody_ was there already, waiting for them, and even Bucky had to stop and pause when he saw what they had all put together for him and Summer.

"Okay," Natasha said, nodding to Bucky. "Now she can look."

Bucky let his hands drop, and Summer gasped when she opened her eyes.

It certainly wasn't the fanciest reception that had ever been, but for one under a tent placed on the edge of a farm in rural Pennsylvania, it was incredibly elegant. There were tables draped in dark red satin and accented with hints of cream and ivory, topped with centerpieces made from the same flowers as the bouquets, and the longest table that sat at the head of the tent was reserved for the bride and groom. There was a dance floor on the other side, and a stand displaying their cake. Candles in little lanterns hung from the ceiling, washing the whole tent in soft light that offset the darkness of the red hues within it, and Summer couldn't have been happier.

She actually jumped up and down a little bit, and Bucky wasn't so impressed by his surroundings that he missed his chance to look down and appreciate the _bouncing_ that occurred as a result.

"Holy crap, guys!" She exclaimed. "This is perfect! It's even better than I thought it would be!"

While Summer had a cow over the decorations and how gorgeous it all was, something in the corner near their cake drew Bucky's eye. When he found a chance in the midst of her babbling to get a word in, he gave her hand a tug and asked, "What's that? Next to the cake?"

"What? Oh," she said, smiling and laying her eyes on the display in question. She then led him that way, stealing a few more moments alone before they'd be officially "announced" and expected to dance.

"This," she explained when they got there, "is a collage. It took me four months to get all the pictures for it, but... yeah."

Sitting on a little antique table was the collage in question, fairly large and divided into two side by side sections. One side contained pictures of him, his parents, and his grandparents. The same went for her side, starting at the top with little black and white photos of her grandparents, then her parents, and finally her. Then the photos transitioned to, all along the bottom and in the very center, ones of Summer and Bucky together.

"Steve helped me," she added. "Paul too, since I lost all my pictures with my house. But I thought it would be a nice touch."

She smiled at him then, awaiting his reaction, and Bucky continued to flicker his eyes all along each and every photo. He was struck by both the similarities and differences in his and Summer's pictures. The differences were, for one, that the ones of him as a younger man were aged and black and white, the same as her grandparents', where hers were obviously much more recent and in color. But they were the same in the sense that the faces that shared their photos - his parents and sister, her parents and grandmother - were all ghosts of a time long past.

But they did each have a brother. Hers by blood, his not, but a brother all the same. And then in the center of everything was a picture of him, Summer, and David from David's last birthday. Steve had taken it, and all three of them looked incredibly happy in it, and he thought the collage told a good story. Two people who never should have met but did, both with very little in the way of family but finding just that in each other and a certain little boy who adored them both.

"I like this," Bucky said quietly. "I like this a lot."

"Good," she smiled, running her thumb over his hand and then jumping in surprise when a spotlight suddenly landed on them.

"Did you two really think you could sneak in here and miss your big introduction?" Sam's voice boomed through a speaker, and Bucky looked up in time to see him standing not too far away, holding a microphone and shaking his head. "Hell no. Now, smile for the camera while an actual _god_ introduces you."

Thor then came ambling over, smiling but looking mildly confused, and Sam proceeded to try to explain what he was supposed to do. Thor still looked a bit puzzled, but he took the mic anyway and held it up to his mouth. Then he lowered it, furrowed his brows, and asked Sam something else.

Bucky and Summer shared an amused look, and then Thor said "Ah!" rather loudly and then got back to it.

"All right, I am told that it is now my honor to introduce Mr. and Mrs. Bu -"

Sam hastily corrected him, and Thor again grew confused. "James? His name is James? Then why do all of you call him..." Sam then replied with more that Bucky couldn't hear, and Thor sighed before muttering something that sounded like _you mortals and your odd behaviors_. Then he smiled again and tried once more. "Ah, as I was saying... it is my great honor to introduce Mr. and Mrs. _James_ Barnes."

And then, for the second time that day, everybody cheered, and Summer blushed and probably died a little inside from having Thor do the honors. Bucky grinned at her, finding her even more adorable than usual, only to pause when he heard the familiar strains of a song start to play.

"That would be our song," Summer smiled, taking his hands and leading him to the center of the dance floor.

He tilted his head slightly, following her and smiling when he placed the song and recalled its title. "_This_ is what you chose?"

She smiled and nodded as he drew her close, into his arms and against his chest. "Fitting, huh?"

He agreed wholeheartedly, swaying with her gently to a song back from his time titled _I_ _Could Write a Book_. It was incredibly fitting, and not _only_ because she actually had written a book based on them. It was a sweet, lighthearted choice for their first dance as a married couple, and he wouldn't have changed a thing about it.

Everyone was watching them as they danced, and Nicolo was hovering about as usual, taking pictures here and there, but Bucky felt like they were in their own little world and far removed from the amused stares and smiles of the others. He held Summer close and danced her around the floor, smiling at her when she looked up at him and wound her arms around his neck.

"Are you enjoying this?" she asked, those deep red lips of hers stealing his attention as her mouth formed the words.

"Dancing with you, or our wedding?" he asked, forcing his eyes to rise back up to hers.

"Well, I already know the answer to the dancing thing, so..."

He smiled and nodded. "Yes, I am enjoying today. A lot. Everything's perfect."

"Good," she smiled back. "Because weddings aren't _all_ about the bride, you know. The groom needs to be happy too."

"I'm happy," he replied quietly, leaning down to kiss her gently and all too quickly. Then he took advantage of her momentary daze by suddenly turning her and spinning her out when she least expected it. She squeaked a little but held her balance, just as he knew she would, and she was all smiles when he drew her back in.

He meant his last two words more than he had ever meant them before. If he wasn't careful, he might actually slip and let himself get used to the rare, exquisite luxury of being truly happy all the time.

Or maybe, he suspected, he already had.

* * *

Their dance was sweet, quiet, and utterly perfect, and Summer had forgotten entirely about being starving by the time the dance came to an end. She wouldn't have had a choice anyway, because another song came on, and Bucky wasn't ready to let her go just yet.

Around them, the dance floor started to fill with other couples. First was Steve and Natasha, then Paul and Sarah, and Summer laughed when she looked up and saw Thor dancing Darcy around as Sam played DJ. Then she laughed even harder and felt her heart melt a little when David, eager to participate in everything he could, convinced Wanda to let him dance on her feet.

She was floating on air. And just when she was convinced that it couldn't get any better, the song changed again, and so did her partner.

"All right, I call first dance with the bride," Steve said, suddenly appearing and taking Summer's hand and giving Bucky zero chance to protest even if he had wanted to. Then he gestured to Natasha and said, "Here, take my girl."

Then Steve smiled and led Summer away in a hurry, as if he was sure that he had a limited window of time to get away with this. As Bucky and Natasha shrugged at each other and then started dancing, Steve grinned at Summer and said as he held her at a very safe distance and began to sway, "Hi."

"Hi," she chuckled. Somehow, she had never danced with Steve before, and now that she was, she couldn't help but crack a joke. "You cut in like that a lot, Captain?"

He shrugged. "Only when I've got something to say that can't wait."

"What?" She asked with sudden concern. "Is it my makeup? I've been crying a lot and it's probably running but -"

"No," he laughed. "Nothing like that. You look great. No, I... well, I wanted to thank you."

Summer's concerned expression faded as she smiled yet again. "Oh. What for?"

"I think you know," he replied, and instantly, she _did_ know. He glanced back towards Bucky, who was half-glaring at something Natasha was grinning about as they danced, and then he said, "Even counting when I knew him back _then_... I've never seen him this happy."

"Really?" She smiled, eyes growing bigger.

"Yep," Steve nodded. "Earlier today, right before the ceremony, he thanked me for everything I've done for him, but... the thing is, you're the one that brought him to me. I don't know how long it would have taken me to find him if it hadn't been for you. Who knows what could have happened."

She nearly shuddered just imagining that possibility. "Yeah... wow. I mean, I still didn't really do much, but..."

Steve gave her a look she knew quite well by now, because he gave it to her every time she said something silly like that. "You know that's not true. He told you as much in his vows. Which, by the way, were not the ones I helped him write."

She grinned. "I _knew_ it."

"The ones off the top of his head were better," Steve admitted.

"I'm sure yours were good too. Maybe you could save them and use them yourself one day," Summer winked.

Steve scoffed slightly but smiled all the same. "Yeah, we'll see."

After continuing to dance and talk until the song was over, Steve hugged Summer and then laughed and Thor came by and snatched her up next. It was just the start to a dizzying experience of being passed around from one person to the other, because apparently everybody required at least one dance with the bride. First was Thor, who tossed her around and made her laugh as he was so good at, and then after him, Tony came by and stole a dance. He was much more subdued, and she even got a bit of a fatherly talk from him in the process. It was awesome, at least until she pointed out the paternal nature of his words of advice, at which point he made a face and said he needed to leave and go contemplate his life for a bit. But that was okay, because next in line was Clint, and he was a surprisingly good dancer. But he was quickly pushed aside by Paul, who was quite miffed that every time he tracked her down, some other dude would grab her and monopolize her time.

Once she had danced with nearly every man in the room and a few girls too, plus David who had been her _favorite_, she almost cried with relief when Esteban - while dancing with her, of course - suggested that she and Bucky cut the cake after the current song ended. She planned on eating at least half of the cake. At least. She was _that_ hungry.

The rest of the reception seemed to fly by. During the cake cutting, Summer was nice and didn't smash the first piece into Bucky's face, but her niceness backfired somewhat when he took being fed as an opportunity to maintain eye contact and subtly suck on her fingertips in the process. She tried to glare at him, but all he did was smirk and then take his turn. She tried to do the same and be a little teasing back, but since she couldn't exactly just go for it in front of everybody, she kept it subtle and reminded herself that she would more than get him back for all the teasing _later_.

Then, after that, they sat at their little table and _finally_ ate. David sat with them, as did Steve and Natasha, and time continued to fly by in a happy haze of laughter and conversation. Before she knew it, Esteban was leaning over the table and telling them that it was time to do the traditional bouquet and garter tosses, and Summer glanced at Bucky next to her and paused when she saw the grin suddenly on his face.

"What?" she demanded, a little bit nervous now.

He merely shook his head. "Nothing."

She narrowed her eyes, but then Esteban was all but yelling at them (in a very nice way) to get a move on, so then back to the dance floor they went.

Esteban hurried and grabbed a chair for them, then planted it in the center of the open space and said, "Garter first. That's the rules." Then he called out to Darcy, who had taken over DJ duty from Sam, to play the song and get it started. But first, Darcy announced the garter toss in her typical blunt, mildly embarrassing manner of speaking, and Summer sat down in the chair as all the men gathered to try to catch the thing and the women craned their necks to watch.

Summer tried to ignore their audience and watched Bucky as he seemingly casually strolled up to her, hands in his pockets at first and expression quite impassive. She raised an eyebrow at him, then extending her leg in what was either an invitation or a nudge to hurry up. His eyes flashed to her shoe, then back up to her eyes as he pulled his hands from his pockets and, with all the grace of a panther, was suddenly on his knees before her.

She wondered if he'd just reach into the fluff ball that was her skirt and just grab the thing and throw it over his shoulder. Her wondering was quickly laid to rest, however, after he gave her a certain familiar _look_ and then dove with both hands and head under her skirt.

She laughed as the others whistled, covering her face with one of her hands as the other gripped the chair so she didn't fall over. Meanwhile, Bucky made his way up her legs rather leisurely, pushing the fabric out of the way as he did, and when he reached her thighs, she felt him become completely still, but only for a second. Then she felt the fingers of his right hand gently touch what he could see of her garter belt, one of the silky straps clipped to her stockings, and her already-present blush grew to cover her neck. Then that hand trailed to her inner thigh before disappearing entirely, only to be replaced by his lips.

He laid a soft, otherwise chaste kiss high on her inner thigh, then _nipped_ at the same spot, and it took all of her control to not jump and squeal. Then his teeth were dragging downwards, until they caught the lace of her little blue garter, and then he was dragging it down her leg.

Everyone erupted into more whistles and cheers once he emerged from the fluff, garter between his teeth and eyes immediately fixing on Summer, who was so red-faced that one might have thought she had a serious condition. But she managed to blush even harder when Bucky, reaching up to grab the blue lace out of his mouth, lingered for just the briefest of seconds once he had it in his fingers, long enough to inhale her scent on the fabric and subtly enough that she was the only one who noticed. Then he grinned at her in that devious way of his, then _winked_ as he stood up and prepared to fire the thing.

She just stayed where she was, staring at him and wondering just how soon they could leave and get to the damn cottage.

Bucky, meanwhile, glanced over his shoulder once and then shot the garter towards the men like a slingshot. The little thing went flying into the air, and after a bit of a struggle between Steve and Sam, plus the general confusion of Thor, whom nobody had explained the tradition to, it ended up in the hands of the only person who was just as confused as Thor - Vision.

Summer cracked up, and would forever crack up, at the innocently bewildered look on Vision's face as he stared at the garter in his hand and then asked anyone who would listen, "What does this... custom mean?"

Tony slapped a hand on his back and explained, "It means you're gonna marry whoever catches the bouquet in a minute." At Vision's instant look of alarm, Tony assured him, "It's just a tradition. It's not legally binding."

As Vision visibly relaxed, Bucky turned back to Summer and grinned before reaching out a hand to help her to her feet. He pulled her into a hug, and she murmured against his ear, "I felt that."

"That was the idea," he replied before drawing away and kissing her one more time before the music changed again and Darcy screeched for Sam to come and take over again so she could try to catch the bouquet.

The men, including Bucky, took a backseat as all the non-married women gathered on the edge of the dance floor. Natasha brought Summer her bouquet, and before she walked away, Summer made her grin by saying, "I'm aiming at you."

"Take your best shot," Nat said before sauntering away and joining Darcy, Pepper, Wanda, and the ever-mature Maya as they waited.

Summer chuckled, noticing Vision watching with interest as she turned around and prepared to throw it. Hoping she wouldn't throw it too hard or too softly, she said what the hell and hoped for the best, then tossed it over her shoulder and quickly turned around to see what would happen next.

From the beginning, it was a struggle between Darcy and Pepper, both of whom seemed to want it badly. Pepper might have even seemed more determined to catch it, which didn't go unnoticed by Tony and made him smile very visibly from all the way across the tent. Both Darcy and Pepper jumped for the flying bouquet, and one of them seemed to catch a grip on it at some point, but then Darcy accidentally elbowed Pepper in the face, and they both jumped apart and lost track of the bouquet. Then as Darcy apologized profusely and checked to make sure Pepper didn't have a black eye, the bouquet fell unassumingly into Wanda's hands.

Summer contained an inner squeal of delight. It was so incredibly perfect.

Wanda, unsure of what to do at first, stared at the bouquet and then looked up and smiled at Summer first, then Natasha. Summer clapped gleefully, and then watched as Wanda glanced at Vision and both of their expressions softened by just the slightest bit. And Summer, who was the unofficial queen of blushing, didn't miss the sudden twinge of pink on Wanda's cheeks.

Later on, when they got married - and Summer was convinced that they would - she planned to totally claim at least 12% of the credit.

Once that was over, Bucky came and led her back to their table. With all of the main wedding staples now out of the way, there was really only one thing left to do - open their weddings gifts, which were sitting on a little table on the side of the tent, not far from where they sat.

There weren't many to open, only because they had already received most of their gifts in advance. But, there were two boxes sitting on the table, one fairly larger than the other, and Steve was nice enough to bring over the biggest one first.

"This one's from me," he said, smiling a bit proudly, and Summer wondered what in the world he could have gotten him that was _this_ big.

The answer ended up being an extremely expensive coffee maker, the kind that could brew espresso and also make lattes, cappuccinos, and just about everything else under the coffee-loving sun. It also cost more than what most people paid for rent in a whole month, and Summer nearly choked and died several times before she managed to get out a coherent thank you. Steve knew them both all too well and had done a perfect job in choosing that particular gift.

Then, next came the smaller box. This one was brought over by Thor, who was beaming as he placed it down in front of them and declared, "This is from me, with all of the very best wishes for a long and happy life together."

Summer smiled up at Thor and said, "Oh my God, you _really_ didn't have to do this. Is this from _Asgard_?!"

"It is!" He smiled. "And nonsense, of course I had to to do this. Go on, open it."

Smiling and incredibly intrigued as to what could possibly be inside, Summer fiddled with a few latches on the box, which looked so fancy and was so elegantly carved that it could have been the gift itself. Then she opened it and found a bunch of little elegantly crafted bottles inside, containing liquids of various colors, each of them wrapped in what appeared to be paper. _Asgardian_ paper.

"This is a traditional wedding gift in my world," Thor explained. "It is a collection of various potions. There are some for sleep, anxiety, minor sickness, energy, and even fertility."

"... You got us _Asgardian magic potions_?!" Summer gasped, eyes the size of saucers as she plucked out a bottle at random to examine it.

"Yes!" Thor beamed. "Now I imagine that being mortal, these would have a more potent effect on the two of you than most Asgardians, so have care. There are instructions written for each potion."

"Yeah, I see," she said, peeling off the piece of paper from the bottle and proceeding to marvel just over the script alone. "Holy crap, this is like calligraphy on crack! Who _wrote_ this?

At this, Thor's smile became one of pride. "A very talented young lady who is also a dear friend of mine. She was my brother's partner before... everything changed. She made most of these potions herself, they are from her private stock."

It took a moment for what Thor said to fully sink in, but once it did, Summer sat frozen to the spot and looked up at Thor wide-eyed and open-mouthed. "Your brother's... partner. You mean Loki's... _lover_? He had a girlfriend?!" Then she paused. "I mean duh, I'm sure he had a girlfriend, or like a thousand girlfriends, but -"

"I understand," Thor chuckled. "And yes! She and my brother were very much in love."

Summer smiled a bit dreamily, incredibly starstruck to be in possession of potions and notes handcrafted by this mysterious and surely amazing woman. "That's amazing!" Then she frowned. "Except they're... obviously not together anymore because he's..."

Thor's expression changed them, becoming a bit sad and also slightly unreadable, and they both hovered in conversational limbo before Summer tried to recover with, "But anyway, no, that's great! I bet she's like, extremely pretty."

"Very," Thor nodded. "And a very talented singer and warrior. A woman of many talents!"

Summer's dreamy smile came back. "_Wow_! Well, tell her thank you for us! Like a big thank you! And a hug! And I don't even know! This is amazing," she exclaimed, showing Bucky the bottle and continuing to babble about how great and unexpected it all was.

Meanwhile, standing just a few steps away from Thor, Steve crossed his arms and muttered, "Show off."

Thor laughed heartily and replied, "Take heart, my friend. I am sure they like your... coffee... device as equally as they do my gift."

Steve rolled his eyes and sighed. "Yeah, yeah."

In the midst of going through the various little bottles and vials, Summer noticed one that was, quite unlike all the others, bright pink. She picked it up, read the little note attached, and then said, "_Whoa_. It's an aphrodisiac."

"A what?" Bucky asked, sitting up straighter and suddenly paying closer attention.

"It says here that all you do is sniff it and it makes you..."

"Oh, have care with that particular potion," Thor said, his tone cautious. "That is given mainly due to the number of arranged marriages that take place in my world. Clearly, the two of you have no need of it at this time."

Summer laughed nervously and then put the bottle back, deciding not to touch it now or possibly ever. "Heh, yeah. We, uh... we're... good... there."

After examining the rest of the box and continuing to be in awe of the gift, Summer then jumped up and hugged Thor one more time, and because Steve was looking a bit sulky about his gift's thunder being a bit stolen, so to speak, she gave him a hug too and assured him that she would certainly use his gift more than Thor's anyway.

It was the perfect way to end the traditional wedding stuff, and Summer was back to floating on air. They lingered for awhile, talking and chatting and laughing with their friends, taking some more pictures, and both of them making sure to get a good amount of time with David. She and Bucky would be leaving very soon, after all, and it would be the longest time Summer had ever been away from him.

When the time to leave eventually rolled around, it snuck up on Summer and hit her with a brand new ball of nerves. The sun was down, the night was getting cool, and the declarations had to be taken down soon. In short, it was finally time to get on with the honeymoon.

As Natasha made sure that the car they were taking was packed with everything they needed for the honeymoon, Summer pulled David aside and had a talk with him just outside of the tent, as Bucky stood just behind her.

"We're going to be far away for a little while, like we talked about," she reminded David gently, kneeling down to his level. "Steve and Nat are going to take care of you. Be good for them, okay? I'll make sure and Skype every day, so you can see us and hear us."

David nodded, but the sadness on his face was unmistakable. She felt a pang of guilt and frowned as she said, "We won't be gone for too long. We'll be back before you know it. You're gonna have lots of fun with Steve. And we'll bring you back a present!"

David brightened a little bit then, though only just, and Summer pulled him into a tight hug. "I love you, and I'm gonna miss you so much."

When she pulled away, he signed an I love you back to her, and then looked up and repeated it to Bucky, who then leaned down and scooped him up into a big hug of his own. It was as Summer was smiling a bit sadly at the sight of them that Thor's heavy footsteps sounded nearby, and she looked up to find him with Mjolnir in hand, ready to head home himself.

"I must be on my way back now," he said, smiling. "It was an honor to be a part of your day, my lady."

"I am so glad you came," Summer said, launching herself at him for about the fiftieth time that day. She regretted nothing, however, because this was Thor, and he deserved all the hugs in the world. "And thank you for the gift! It's amazing, it really is."

After Summer spent a few more moments gushing over Thor and, in general, everything about him, he turned to Bucky and they bade one another farewell with a handshake and a few nods. All too soon then, it was time for Thor to go home, and Summer watched in a stupor as the sky opened up and he vanished in a sudden burst of brilliant light. Then the lights were gone, leaving her and David to gaps in its absence as Clint wailed in the distance about "more freaky alien crop circles in my damn backyard".

It had been a perfect day, everything Summer had ever dreamed of and _way_ more. No longer able or willing to delay their departure, Summer and Bucky handed David over to Steve, and then made their exit under the cover of lit sparklers held over their heads by their friends and family. Summer giggled the whole way to the car, finding the sparklers to be an adorable last little touch.

Once they got to the car, Bucky helped get her stuffed into the passenger seat, which was no easy feat, and then hurriedly made his way to the driver's side as she tried to get comfortable sitting in a pool of fluff that had nowhere to go. Then, once he was in and had flipped on the ignition, they looked at each other and both immediately grinned at the unspoken thought that they _knew_ was just about the only thing on their mind now.

"Ready?" he asked, shifting the gears and slowly backing up.

"Oh I'm ready," she grinned, that excited glint in his eye making her even more impatient to get to the cottage. Then his right hand slid into her left hand, and he raised her hand to his lips and placed a soft kiss on the back of it before placing it back at her side, but not letting go.

She rolled her window down and waved goodbye at everyone as they pulled away, telling David that she loved him one more time. Then they were off, sliding smoothly on to the empty country roads and towards a little house less than an hour away that would be theirs for the night.

Summer's honeymoon was about to officially begin. She couldn't wait.

* * *

The drive felt like it took forever. Bucky drove quietly but quickly through the dark, empty road, focused wholly on getting them where they were going and little else. Summer, meanwhile, was a chatterbox, a result of her sudden new nervous energy, and Bucky mostly just listened and chuckled here and there while she babbled about the day's events and anything else that popped into her head.

She only shut up once they found the house that they were looking for. It was at the end of a long, gravel driveway, tiny and cute and everything they needed for their first night as husband and wife.

Bucky parked right in front of the house and wasted no time in getting out and helping Summer get out of the car without tripping and falling or ripping her dress. Then, holding her hand, they walked together up to the front door, but he batted her other hand away when she tried to reach for the doorknob.

"Hold on," he said, a small smile crossing his face, and she immediately knew what he was up to

"Are you really doing this?" she asked with a small smile, though really, she had been hoping all along that he'd do this.

"Hell yes I'm doing this."

"You don't _have_ to -"

"Yes I do."

Summer then let out an embarrassingly girlish giggle as Bucky scooped her up into his arms, threw open the front door of the little house they were spending their wedding night in, and then carried her across the threshold. Bucky didn't set her down until they were fully inside of the house, and once he did, he kicked the door shut and then grinned as she threw her arms around him and kissed him.

She was utterly jubilant, a little tired from the day overall but high on a new wave of energy now that they were here and _alone_ and very close to a certain part of the night that she had spent months preparing for. Her nerves were all aflutter, though mostly with pure excitement rather than terror, and it showed on her face as she pulled away and grinned happily at her new husband.

"We're finally alone," she said, hands gripping his suit jacket as she pulled him further into the house. "Like _really_ alone. For the first time."

"I know," he grinned back, stealing another kiss from her before he took one of her hands in his and started steering them towards a staircase to their left. "Come on, I've got a surprise for you."

She almost let out a sudden, ironic giggle, because _man did she have a surprise for him, _but instead she simply put on a coy little smile and asked, "Oh yeah?"

He nodded, pulling her up the stairs as she held up the skirt of her dress and followed him, excitement inching higher and higher the closer they got to the top of the stairs. Once they got there, it was a short walk to the master bedroom, and Bucky stole one more kiss as they stopped in front of the door.

"Close your eyes," he murmured, grin plastered to his face, and she giggled again before doing as he said and shutting her eyes.

Then she heard the door open, and Bucky guided her inside from behind, with his hands on her shoulders. Then, after a few steps, he kissed her softly under her ear and said, "Okay. Open your eyes."

Her eyes snapped open, and the smile on her face grew as she took in the room before her. He had pulled out all the stops - rose petals on the bed and the floor, candles everywhere, a bottle of wine and two glasses on an antique little table in the middle of the room. She turned and grinned at him, then said quietly, "Oh my God! This is _awesome_. I _love_ it."

"Thought you would," he replied, his palms sliding down her arms to her own hands as he turned them and started walking her to the table.

Along the way, she glanced at the bed - which she didn't anticipate sleeping much in - and a chair near that little table. Then after they came to a stop, she watched as Bucky shed his jacket and then reached for the wine. He poured her glass first, and she grinned as she took it, "Can I assume that this is the good stuff?"

"$500 bottle," Bucky said, pouring his own glass and watching her carefully sip her own. "Not that I thought you needed it, but... helps set the mood, right?"

"Oh yeah," she smiled, taking a few healthy gulps of the wine in the hopes that it would calm her nerves a bit. Her anxiety was still more pleasant than unpleasant, but all the same, she wanted to make absolutely sure that she was ready for what she had planned.

"Speaking of setting the mood..." Wine half gone, she set the glass down and stepped around Bucky, his eyes fixed on her as she made her way to a record player sitting on a chest against the wall opposite them. Natasha had promised her that she'd have the record that Summer needed for the dance ready and waiting there at the house for her, and sure enough, it was sitting right next to the record player.

She bit her lip as she picked up the record, sliding it free of the sleeve just as Bucky suddenly pressed behind her and started kissing down her neck, humming low in his throat as he did. She knew he was eager, and she _definitely_ was too, but he would simply have to wait his turn.

"I've been waiting all day for this," Bucky murmured near her ear, voice already low with need for her. "These last few weeks, being barely able to touch you and then watching you tease me all day..."

"I've done no such thing," she argued playfully as he nipped under her ear.

"Oh yes you have, and you know it," he replied.

Once the record was spinning, crackling before the first song began to play, Summer smiled at his words and then turned and kissed Bucky, taking him by his shoulders and pushing him back slowly. She walked him backwards, kissing him all the while, until his legs hit the chair she had been moving him towards, and then she broke the kiss and pushed him down into it.

He looked up at her a little dazed, clearly already desperate for her, but he hadn't seen anything yet. She slid her hands off of his shoulders and stepped back, taking a centering breath and, to her surprise, feeling that nervousness in her belly all but fleeing now that the moment she had been practicing so much for was here. She picked up her glass of wine, finishing it before turning her eyes on Bucky.

Time to make Bucky's wedding night the best one of his life.

* * *

Bucky blinked once, then twice, watching his new wife down the rest of her wine in one smooth gulp. He hadn't expected her to sit him down in the chair like that, nor walk away right after to finish her drink, but he didn't ask what she was up to. He did, however, keep his eyes fixed completely upon her and nothing else, barely able to keep still and not get up and go after her.

Then the record she had put on began to play. When the first strain hit his ears, he watched Summer set down her now-empty glass and then turn towards him, eyes locked with his, and something... _changed_ within her. He could see it in how her body language shifted in the blink of an eye, and her eyes changed too, going from her usual sweet, purely _Summer_ demeanor to something _predatory_. And that was something he'd never seen from her before.

Then she began sauntering to him. _Sauntering_, in time with the music playing, and his eyes widened as he slowly began to grasp what was happening.

"Summer...?" His voice came out a lot smaller than he had intended.

Now in front of him, he reached for her, but brushed his hands away and pushed him back into the chair, still wearing that unexpectedly filthy look on her face.

"Shh," she told him softly, even her voice different, darker, more seductive. "Just sit back and watch. And no touching unless I give you permission."

His jaw dropped. It felt like his brain had shorted out and failed to reboot.

_She was going to dance for him_.

He started babbling, and it was beyond his control. "But... you..."

She merely replied by placing one finger to her lips, shushing him again, and this time, he shut up. Was this even real? Was he just hallucinating as a result of his several-week-long deprivation and the general wedding day experience?

With a little smirk—a _smirk—_she then backed away from him again, the steady and thumping drum beat in the background echoing his heart beat. Then, suddenly, a wave of brass instruments sounded in a slow, jazzy wail, and Summer started moving. Her hips slowly started swinging to the beat, the fabric of her dress slightly rustling with each movement, and she drew her arms up from her sides and to her waist. Her fingers lightly trailed up and down her body, with one hand wandering up her waist, over her breast, and into her hair. Bucky expected her to pull her hair down from where it sat elegantly atop her head, but then her hand retreated to where it came from, almost as if she were teasing herself.

Bucky's eyes met hers, and the unfamiliar glint in her eyes made him grip the chair so tightly his knuckles turned white. She looked like she wanted to utterly _devour _him.

Then she got closer, one definitive step for each beat of that ever-present drum, and when she finally stood directly before him, her skirts brushing his spread knees, the music hit an all-time high. The brass instruments echoed throughout the room in a long whine of desire as Summer turned to her side—heated gaze never leaving his face—and slowly bent over and arched her back, running one hand over the dramatic curves of her waist and ass.

He was mesmerized, eyes running up and down her rapidly as he began slowly easing out of his initial shock and focusing his entire existence on _this_ moment and the utterly amazing things happening within it. She had only just begun, and yet he knew that if she took this farther... maybe even all the way... his mind would very possibly be _lost_ to her, and he may never be the same.

No, he would _definitely_ never be the same.

With a slow, sensual roll of her hips, she straightened back up and turned to him again, standing between his legs. Leaning over, she grasped each of his hands in her own, and for the first time, allowed him to touch her.

At that first touch, her darkened eyes met his wide, awestruck ones, and he couldn't help the wonder-struck smile that formed on his lips. The smile told her everything words couldn't at that moment - how amazing she was for doing this, how completely blown away he was, and how utterly _perfect_ she was in his eyes - and for one split second, she smiled back in a way that cracked through her predatory gaze to give a glimpse of the Summer he knew underneath. But then the moment was over, and her sweet smile became that dangerous smirk once more. He shuddered in anticipation, and it didn't go unnoticed.

She guided his hands the entire time over the bodice of her dress, but never let him make contact with her skin. As she ran his hands over her hips, she turned her back to him and slowly guided his hands up her back. He relished being able to touch her at all, even if it wasn't nearly enough.

Then their hands froze when they reached the zipper.

Knowing her intentions, he exhaled a bit roughly and gripped the small zipper, and—with her guidance—dragged it down, _down, down _until it stopped. Then she tossed his hands from her body and put a couple of feet between them to where he could fully see her entire form.

And as the music seemed to sway, Summer slowly swayed her hips with it, and Bucky watched in desperation as her dress slowly slid down to reveal a blush pink thong and her ass on complete display. His already-wide eyes grew even bigger, both because he had never seen her in such a garment before and because of how tempting and lush a sight it provided him. Holding the dress in place, she turned her head over her shoulder with a teasing, playful, and _knowing _smile on her face. He met that cute little gaze of hers and didn't know what to do with himself, first bringing his right hand to his mouth and then dropping it, starting to actually _squirm_ in his seat a bit.

When she apparently felt as if she'd given him a good enough look, she let the rest of the dress fall from her form and she tossed it to the side of the room before fully turning to let him soak in her full visage.

There she stood, with all the confidence in the world, in full, exquisitely beautiful, vintage lingerie. His eyes travelled slowly, taking their time in taking her in, not wanting to miss a single detail of this moment as he committed it to his memory. He studied_ everything _from her gorgeous face to the smooth column of her neck, down to the bra that so teasingly gave him such a tantalizing peek of the heavy breasts contained within, then the garter that drew his gaze further downwards. His eyes slid over the exposed parts of her stomach and then down to the thong that only just covered her, and they lingered there for a few seconds before dragging down to her hips and legs and the stockings on them. If those and the gorgeous, shapely lines of her legs hadn't been enough to do him in, the heels were the nail in his cliched coffin. She _knew_ how he felt about high heels, and those in conjunction with the incredible ensemble of lingerie on her body nearly made him moan.

_Perfect _no longer felt like a sufficient word to describe the awe-inspiring creature before him.

Summer returned to her initial hip swaying and wandering hands, all the more potent now that she was completely on display. She dragged a hand down one leg and pulled one heel off, and the other came off quickly after that and tossed to the side. Then with teasing hands, she hovered over the clasps of the garter that held her sheer stockings up. He was holding his breath now, waiting on the edge of his seat for each new movement, needing them like he needed the very air to breathe. Then she simultaneously unclasped both straps from her stockings, and with her right leg extended to give him a full view, she smoothly and effortlessly dragged the stocking down and off to reveal the bare skin of her leg.

He fully expected her to do the same to the other leg, but Summer had a different plan.

With an almost devious grin, she propped her left leg up onto his chair between his legs, her foot _incredibly _close to—

His mind stopped working when she pulled the stocking down with a flourish right in front of him and placed her foot back on the ground. With the discarded stocking in her hand, she playfully swayed it right in his face before wrapping it behind his neck, the soft material deliciously dragging across his skin, then throwing it to the side. He watched her all the while, mouth slightly open and eyes ever more dazed, on the cusp of _whining_ if she didn't let him touch her soon.

She backed up from him _again, _and Bucky vaguely realized that the song was seemingly coming to a close. With the last few fading strains, Summer's movements stopped in a subtle pose.

Bucky had thought she was done. It had certainly been _enough _todrive him mad with need,but of course, he didn't realize just how wrong he was.

Within the few seconds of silence after song ended, Bucky saw Summer's demeanor change yet again. While earlier she had embodied a sort of dark, sexy seductress, slowly teasing him into madness, she turned into something livelier, a raging fire behind her eyes, and her potent gaze turned downright _naughty. _

Then a new song kicked in. It had a little faster tempo, and while it had similar instrumentation to the previous one, this song was rougher, grittier. The music accompanied a sultry, smooth voice that spoke of needing a man who knew how to take his time. He was incredibly familiar with the song, but as of tonight, he would never listen to it the same.

Summer began to dance again, her movements a little faster and more playful than before. Whatever inhibitions she might have had earlier were completely dissipated since her hands roamed freely over her body as she swayed and rolled and sauntered.

With one deft movement, she pulled her hair from its up do, and the dark tresses tumbled down to her waist in soft waves, creating a stark difference against the pale pink of her lingerie.

She stalked up to him once again, this time wedging between his legs and placing her hands on his knees. A smirk firmly in place, she rotated her hips in circles as she lowered herself into squat. Still in the squat, she spun around and rose back up, hips never faltering in their movements. His eyes glued themselves to her curves, and it nearly physically _hurt_ to not touch her, to see her like this and be so close and yet able to only touch her with his gaze rather than his hands.

In a suddenly quick movement that took him by surprise, she all but ripped the garter from her body, leaving her in nothing but a bra and that little scrap of lace for underwearthat would surely be the death of him.

She then pivoted around and delicately placed her hands on his shoulders. The eye contact between them _searing_, Bucky looked at her in a way that was almost a dare, a challenge to _really_ take this where he desperately needed it to go, and the look that she shot back told him that she was more than up to the another smirk, she straddled his legs, and the slow circling of her hips resumed as he forgot how to breathe and heard a nearly pathetic gasp leave his lips. He was _aching_, desperate already, and now she was even closer, and it _definitely_ hurt now to keep his hands obediently at his side.

He watched with intense anticipation as she started getting lower and lower, watching her hips as they moved and controlling himself from grasping them and pulling them tightly down against his own to get _some_ relief. Then he looked up, across her stomach and her breasts and up to her eyes, just long enough to let the heat in his eyes mix with hers and bring another jolt from within. Just as she was about to be fully seated in his desperately waiting lap, she rose up again and he groaned in a way that would have been humiliating to a lesser man.

She wasn't going to touch him, or let him touch her. He was sure of it. She was simply going to keep torturing him until he simply lost his damn mind,

But suddenly, she turned around, swinging her right leg over his lap to where her back was to him - his eyes greedily soaking in the view that motion provided - and then she was straddling him _again. _And once again, she started slowly grinding her hips as she got closer and closer to his lap. She paused right above him, and just as he thought that she was going to get up _again _to torture him more, she lightly chuckled before fully seating herself on his lap. Now finally, _finally_ blessed with the sensation of her pressed against him, he moaned unashamedly loudly and let his eyes roll shut, _incredibly_ sensitive to even just that little bit of touch.

Then she started grinding again, and this time it was so much worse - meaning infinitely _better_ \- because she was grinding on _him_, the circular motions of her hips wreaking havoc upon not only his brain but something he knew she could feel rather prominently pressing against her.

"_Fuck_," he growled, all of his frustration and need wrapped up into one syllable that dropped into the air between them like a burning coal. Each little movement felt like fire, like pure heat and pleasure on a level that he had never felt before from such a form of touching, not to mention with two layers of fabric shielding his skin from hers. He couldn't help but moan again, more of the same curse flying out of his mouth, panting and gasping and _almost_ letting his lips touch her ear in the process.

Then her hands covered both of his, and he moaned even louder this time in sheer relief as she began to run his hands all over her, all while she continued to grind down on him. She moved his hands over her thighs, the top of them and then slowly along the inner parts, then back up again to run over her stomach. He savored each inch of skin that he touched, his voice still uncontrolled as it left his mouth in ragged and deep groans.

Then she let his right hand move up, drawing it up and over one perfect, bra-covered breast, letting him grab it and squeeze.

It was almost too much, yet still not enough. "Fuck, _fuck_..."

This time, as his hand lingered on her breast, he let his hips thrust up against hers, unable to hold the motion back. He couldn't help it - she felt too good, too perfect, and if she kept this up, he wasn't going to be able to hold it together, and he was going to be a shuddering, gasping mess beneath her.

But soon as she felt him move against her, she raised her hips up and moved off of him, leaving his lap and making him nearly cry in frustration. Just a few more seconds, just a few more, and he _might_ have...

Her slightly amused smirk was larger than ever, much to his expense, as she lightly danced before him once more. He watched her with heavy, dark, unimaginably needy eyes, barely able to move or even breathe as he watched her. Thankfully, she didn't leave him hanging too long before she started sauntering _behind _him. He thought about following her, but he physically couldn't.

Anticipation at an all-time high, he heard two tiny but definitive little snaps sound behind him, and he automatically knew what that meant. He twitched - _all_ of him - and clenched his jaw almost painfully tightly, knowing that the breasts he could spend an entire day worshipping were free, leaving her all but naked aside from a barely-there scrap of fabric on her hips. Then, all of a sudden slowly swaying back and forth in front of his face, was her discarded bra. He heard her quietly giggle before throwing the bra to the corner along with the _rest _of her clothes.

Her hands snaked over his shoulders and onto his chest, shamelessly groping him through his shirt before tightly gripping the fabric through her fingers. With a rough tug, buttons flew across the room, leaving the cool air to hit his now heaving chest. His head fell back and he groaned, closing his eyes, her touch sending him further and further into madness, especially now that she had gone and truly _ripped_ his shirt, something she had never actually done before.

As her fingers trailed up and down his abdomen, he suddenly felt her mouth very close to his neck and her warm breath washing against his skin. Paired with the distinct sensation of her breasts pressing sensually against his back, he was woefully unprepared for what came next. With a slight growl in his ear, she half sang, half moaned a lyric of the song extolling a _master's touch_. The sound and feel of her words in his ear made his his blood hotter, though it only got worse as her hands slid down to his thighs and she purred in his ear, "How much does the master need _my_ touch?"

She punctuated her question with her hands caressing up his inner thighs, towards where he needed her, and he moaned an incoherent reply that only made her giggle and cheekily point out, "That's not an answer."

Then those teasing little hands of hers slid up and along him, just that faintest little brush making him jerk, moan, and seek more of her touch that she simply wasn't yet willing to give.

"Do you need me as much as I need you?" she asked in a tone that seduced him as effectively as her touch. He replied by gripping her arms, not moving them but keeping them from leaving just yet, and his voice sounded like someone else's when it left his throat a second later.

"_Please_," he begged, breathily and husky and entirely desperately, but she only grinned and then took her hands off of him.

He had been all but done for to begin with, but the added impact of her words and her voice was a brand new experience just like this entire dance was. A shudder raked through his body when her hands disappeared and he cursed _again_. He was still so very, very close, and if she simply just brushed her hand or _anything_ else over him...

Then as the song arrived at its last cadence, the music lowering, the beat slowing, and the trumpet began to whine its final note, Summer slinked around his body—her skin never breaking contact with his—straddled his lap one last time, and softly kissed him. He closed his eyes, gave himself up to her and to the kiss, and then her hips brushed softly but firmly across his lap. And then he was _lost_.

That last little touch was all it took, and he gasped into her mouth, hands rising to almost frantically grasp at her as he came undone _loudly_ against her. Metal hand in her hair and his other arm wrapped around her and pulling her snugly against him as he rode out the blinding waves, he moaned somewhere between a broken cry and a feral growl only a breath away from her own mouth. She watched every last bit of it play out on his face, her own eyes wide because she had _not_ expected this, but he didn't see any of it because all he could see were stars.

It took what felt like ages for him to come down, and when he did, he was shaking. He felt arms wrap around him and pull him close, and he dropped his face into Summer's neck and held her tightly as he breathed like he'd just lapped an entire continent. His brain wasn't functioning and had not been functioning since the very start of the dance, and simply put, he had never stood a chance. He had been at her mercy from the start, and he'd be glad to spend the rest of his life in such a state.

When he finally raised his head again, needing to see her face and gaze into the eyes of his beautiful, sexy, _incredibly powerful_ new wife, he found her expression completely different from before and free of that vixen-like heat that had consumed him during the dance. Now she simply stared at him with her big blue eyes, looking like she was flabbergasted and in awe, and he was pretty sure he looked exactly the same.

Her lips quirked into a smile, eyes still charmingly wide. "_Whoa_."

He gave her a lazy, satisfied grin. _What a woman_. And she was all his. Forever.

* * *

All the countless times that Summer had practiced her dance over the last six months, never had she once imagined that it would end quite _that_ well. She hadn't even tried to make what happened... happen. And yet it had, and now she sat on Bucky's lap, staring into his eyes, and she realized that she had never once in her life felt even half as confident in herself as she did now.

Natasha had sworn to her that the dance was, despite being for Bucky, ultimately all about Summer and her inner confidence. And as with everything... she had been right.

Summer felt _good_. She felt pretty, sexy, everything that Bucky had always insisted she was but she could never quite believe. She didn't know how long this feeling would last, but she would certainly enjoy it while she could.

And all the while, her husband was staring at her like she was nothing short of a deity sent from the heavens, one that he could spend the rest of his life at the feet of and never want anything else.

His voice sounded ragged and heavy when he eventually tried to speak. "Summer, that was..."

"Yeah," she agreed with a grin. "I could, uh... tell. Good thing the suit's not a rental."

He didn't even chuckle at her joke. He was far too focused on staring at her in pure reverence. She could get used to being looked at that way.

Eventually, though, he tore his eyes away from hers and let them trail back down to her very nearly naked form, still sitting on his lap and on display for him. His hands flexed around her hips, flesh fingertips plucking at the thin strap of her thong, and she noticed that his breathing still hadn't returned to normal.

"This was... the last thing I expected," he admitted, hand traveling upwards slowly. "I didn't think... I never would have..."

"I know," she smiled, unintentionally jerking a little when his hand slid over her breast and lingered there. He might have been sated, at least for the time being, but she sure as hell wasn't. "That's one of the reasons why I wanted to do it. I knew it was the last thing you'd expect."

"How did you learn it?" he asked, tone admiring. "You were so... _good_..."

"Natasha taught me," she smirked. "I've been practicing three for four days a week for the last six months."

His jaw dropped. "Six months?"

She nodded. "Lots and lots of early mornings, practicing how to strip and give a proper lap dance. I've probably spent like... hours grinding on Natasha's lap, honestly. It's a very precise thing, almost like a science, you know, and..."

Bucky suddenly froze a bit, becoming slightly more slack-jawed as he stared at her without saying a word.

"What?" she asked. Then it dawned on her. "_Oh_. You probably think that's hot. The whole... grinding on a... girl thing. Right?"

Rather than answer her, his hands clamped around her hips again and he stood up, holding her against him. She let out a sound of surprise and then smiled as he walked them to the bed, then dropped her on it, making the rose petals laying on the sheets rustle and shift. She expected him to pounce on her, but instead he quickly got to work shedding the rest of his clothes. He didn't put on a show for her the way that she did for him, and she was fine with that if it meant having him on top of her faster.

Unnecessary clothing out of the way, she scooted back on the bad as he crawled on to it, wasting no time in laying her down and kissing her with all the determination of a man whose new purpose in life was to make her feel as good as she had made him feel, even surpass it if he could. He kissed her deeply, metal arm holding himself up as his right hand touched and teased and squeezed its way down her body, until he reached her leg and pulled it up and over his hip.

He broke the kiss and breathed against her lips, "I love you so much."

She smiled, gently touching his face and feeling like she was in a movie. The rose petals and the candles flickering all around them really were a sweet, romantic touch, and she loved him even more for thinking of it. "I love you too."

He smiled and kissed her one more time, then started kissing painstakingly slowly but hotly down her neck, and for the next unknown but seemingly _eternal_ amount of time, he took his time in working her up to get her exactly where he wanted her.

All of her teasing was paid back tenfold as he flaunted his knowledge of how to make her squirm and gasp without giving her anything _close_ to what she needed. He kissed every last inch of her, lingered on the spots that made her moan and refused to touch where she needed it except to slowly remove her last little scrap of clothing and drop it on the floor next to the bed. Now they were equally naked, but he wasn't nearly done working her up, not yet. She would have whined and protested if she hadn't known full well how it would make what came next all more powerful for all the waiting.

When he had her where he wanted her - tense, flushed, panting and shamelessly trying to seek friction against any part of him that she could - he covered her body with his and kissed her again, long and deep and passionate, moaning when her legs wrapped around him and her lower half ground against his.

"I can feel you _dripping_," he said low against her ear after pulling away, almost letting himself give in to her wishes but not quite. "You need me, don't you?"

"Yes," she breathed, not caring how desperate she sounded. It had been a long two weeks for her, too, and her dance had been exhilarating enough even without all of _this_.

He hummed in reply, kissing lightly along her jaw as his right hand slid down her chest, between her breasts. She thought he was going to bypass them for once, but she was proven wrong when his hand slid over and grasped one while his head then ducked down to tease the other with his mouth. She whined and clutched at his hair, _loving_ this but unsure of how much she could take before she'd simply collapse.

Still moving with such slow but perfect speed and precision, eventually his hand began to move downwards, but his mouth stayed where it was, sucking and licking and driving her crazy as he occasionally glanced up at her. He watched her as his hand finally slid down between her legs, just the faintest brushing of his fingers making her jerk and gasp _loudly_.

Then he lifted his head, moving up but keeping his hand where it was. He kissed her, swallowing her shaky moan, and then he opened his eyes and gazed down upon her as he said, "You're gonna come for me, just like this. Understand?"

Her incoherent whine in reply was enough for him, and only a few moments later, she did exactly as he instructed. There was no more teasing, only his touch and his words gently but firmly help push her over the edge. One of the best parts was how, for the first time, she didn't have to worry about who would hear as she moaned carelessly loudly. They were truly alone, and she could be as loud and embarrassing as she wanted to be.

When it was over, he reluctantly withdrew his hand, and she panted shallow breaths in and out as her eyes opened and slowly focused on his face. He smiled down at her, laying a soft kiss on her lips and then contenting himself with staying where he was, watching her come back down to Earth.

She was almost okay again, almost able to speak again, and then she opened her eyes once more just in time to watch him bring his fingers to his lips and slip them in his mouth, staring shamelessly into her eyes the entire time.

Then he had the audacity to close his eyes as he lightly sucked his fingertips and make a noise that singlehandedly had her ready for more that very instant.

When he opened his eyes again, he grinned at the new blush on her cheeks and the way that her lips were parted as she stared at him. Then he kissed her, his tongue tangling with hers and sliding in a way that made her skin tingle all over, and she couldn't help but make an impatient noise and try to roll them over.

It didn't work, though. He kept her pinned where she was, breaking away to tell her, "Not yet, sweetheart. Not until I'm finished with you."

"But..."

"Hush," he whispered, stealing one more kiss. "I promise you'll enjoy yourself."

She didn't doubt _that_.

Giving into his will, she laid back and exhaled slowly as he again kissed his way down her body, as if he had all the patience in the world despite his own needs being neglected at the moment. He kissed her one inch at a time, telling her along the way how beautiful she was, how utterly perfect and tempting every part of her was to him, and all of that combined with her newly pulsing need made her feel dizzy, like she was drunk on him.

In time, he made his way down between her legs, his now-swollen lips kissing a teasingly soft trail up each thigh, and just when she thought she knew what would come next, he left her hanging and rose back up to kiss her more.

But before she could complain, he distracted her by drawing away and reaching towards the small beside table. Her eyes followed his hand, and she blinked in curiosity when she saw him pick up one of the little candles and then pull it closer.

He caught the question in her eyes, and rather than answer, his lips quirked up and he said, "Just relax."

She nodded, eyes flickering to the candle as he held it over her, swirling the hot wax beneath the flame. She was pretty sure that she knew where this was going, but it still took her by surprise when he carefully tipped the candle over and dripped the hot wax across her chest, just under her collarbone.

She gasped sharply and shuddered _everywhere_ at the unfamiliar sensation, eyes widening as they locked with his. He seemed to revel in her reaction, grinning a bit darkly before he ducked his head and blew over her skin to cool it down. Then he traced his cold metal fingers along where he'd dripped the wax, and the contrasts made her shudder again and grip his shoulder for dear life.

"Like that?" he asked, kissing her and then watching her nod furiously.

"Yeah, it's uh, it's different and I _ah_..."

He grinned at the way that she trailed off babbling, thanks to him having dripped more along her stomach, starting at the top and then moving lower, under her belly button. He gave that part of her skin the same treatment, blowing and then caressing his left hand fingers over it, and she was all but delirious by the time he started kissing downwards again, inching ever closer to where she now _really_ needed him.

He didn't tease this time, setting aside the candle and then earning a strangled moan out of her mouth when his descended upon her hungrily. She lost track of time, of the world around her, of _everything_, and her entire existence shrunk to include only him and this blessedly rare night truly alone together. The night had only just begun, but she already knew she'd never _ever_ forget a moment of it.

Bucky was relentless, merciless even, and he didn't stop until she could physically take no more. He would take a break to take noisy, panting breaths against her thigh and let her try to catch hers, then start again until she fell apart writhing and shouting, or maybe screaming - she really had no way of knowing. He didn't just use his mouth either. He incorporated his left hand and its vibration when he needed a break or wanted to watch her squirm and claw at the sheets, and then he'd switch to his right hand when his need to really _feel_ her eclipsed everything else.

Then, finally, when she had lost count of each time he'd made her see stars, she begged him to stop before she actually stopped breathing and they had to call 911 on their wedding night. He stopped then, finally, crawling back up her body and himself breathing like he had been the one on the brink of a pleasure-induced early death.

"_Oh my God_," she panted, feeling like she was going to sink into the bed and just disintegrate at any moment. "What the... how did you even... just... _God_."

He chuckled, lying next to her on his side and brushing her now quite sweaty hair away from her face. "I try."

"You succeed," she said, turning her head towards him and smiling at the self-satisfied grin on his face. "I don't know if I can move or... do anything after _that_."

"You can," he told her without hesitation.

She blew out a breath and raised her eyebrows. "What makes you so sure?"

He paused and then traced her bottom lip with his thumb as he murmured, "I'll motivate you."

She raised an eyebrow, deciding to go ahead and play along. "How?"

"Not by touching you," he said, drawing his hand away from her. "You're too sensitive right now. You'd just make me stop. So... I'll just talk."

She paused and tried to mentally prepare herself, knowing it would do her no good. He knew her all too well, and if he was going there, she was as good as dead.

He settled in closer to her, fingers playing with the ends of her hair in the absence of touching her skin. "See, I know there's only one thing you like more than me touching you."

"What's that?" she asked.

"You touching me," he replied with a grin, twirling a strand of her hair around his finger. "And you do it better than anyone I can remember."

"I'm... glad?" she said, not meaning for it to come out sounding like a question. Either way, it only made him grin more.

"But I've got a problem," he admitted. He paused and then added, "I don't know what I want."

"That's a first," she blinked.

He sighed, expression contemplative. "A part of me wants to tie you up and fuck you 'til you can't walk straight for a week. Another part wants to hold you and make love to you and make it as slow and sweet as I can. Then there's one more part that wants to just lay here and watch you ride me, do whatever you want with me."

Summer's brain having just caught fire and exploded in a spectacular firestorm of _holy_ _crap_, she just stared at him and, after a long moment spent gaping, asked, "... Can you repeat the first one?"

He grinned. "Tie you up and fuck you 'til you can't walk for a week."

Her brain exploded again. She opened her mouth but nothing came out, and she wondered _why_ he hadn't done this yet if it was something he thought about like that.

Eventually she regained enough of her wits to stammer out, "Well, whatever you... want."

He smiled at that, then reached down to take her hand in his. "I want it all, but tonight... maybe the third one."

She nodded. "Just as long as we do the first one sometime this week."

"Really?" He actually looked _surprised_.

"Oh yeah," she blurted. "Yes. Yes. A lot of yes."

He smiled and then nodded, biting his lip for good measure. "All right. But for now..."

He sat up then, not letting go of her hand. He gave it a tug, then said, "Come sit on my lap."

And just as he had predicted, thanks to his words of _encouragement_, she now had it in her to get up and keep going. Really, she was just silly for ever doubting him, or herself.

He guided her to sit on top of him, much like she had when this night had began, and though her legs were shakier this time and she was a lot more worn out than she had been then. But she had all the energy she needed, and feeling _all_ of him pressed against her along with his hands gripping her sides and her hips in that needy way of his were extra motivation. Not to mention the hungry but still somehow reverential look in his eyes as he kept them focused squarely upon her.

"So, _husband_," she teased with a silly grin, wrapping her arms around his neck and sliding so that she was just inches from taking him in. "Have you enjoyed your wedding night so far?"

"I have," he grinned back, sliding his metal hand into her hair. "_Mrs. Barnes_."

She had never felt so silly, giddy, and turned on all at once. She giggled at that name - her name - and then took him by surprise by lowering herself down. His reaction was instant, a second or two of tensing and then letting out a shaky breath of sheer relief.

She kept moving, though very slowly, almost teasing in how languid it was. He didn't complain.

"You said you wanted me to do whatever I wanted with you, right?" she asked, leaning down and kissing along his neck after she spoke.

She felt him nod and tighten the grip his metal hand had on her hair. "Yes."

"Okay," she said, drawing him closer so that he was cradled against her as she slowly but steadily sped up on top of him. Joined like this, it felt like they couldn't possibly get any closer, and for a long time filled with gasps, moans and hands that were _everywhere_, she didn't once let him go. Not until he raised his head and looked at her with such love and desire in his slightly glazed-over eyes that she didn't even feel him turn them and flip them so that she was laying down on her back and he was on top of her.

She couldn't have dreamed of a sweeter way for the night to end. She watched him lose himself to her, as she always did, but with a new and eternal union between them making what they already had deeper and even more palpable. He told her that he loved her, over and over, holding her more tightly and closely with each word, and she could do nothing but say it back and watch him eventually shudder and cry out with everything within him.

And then, after a long time spent in one another's arms, slowly recovering and simply holding one another and enjoying the quiet, they both raised their heads and smiled at each other. Exhaustion was creeping up on them, sleep ready to claim them for the night, but Summer wouldn't let him fall asleep without telling him one more thing.

"I couldn't have asked for a better wedding day," she said quietly, secure and comfortable in his arms, blinking up at him and smiling. "It was all a dream come true. All of it."

He smiled back, then said just as quietly, "I don't like my dreams. You're better than that."

"A wish come true, then?" she guessed.

He paused. "More like a prayer."

Her smile widened. "I'll take that."

He smiled back and then kissed her softly, then settled her head just under his chin as he closed his eyes. "It's gonna be a good week."

"Mhm," she yawned quietly. "Good life too."

He hummed his agreement, and then in seconds, they were both asleep. Tomorrow, they would officially start their new life together as husband and wife.


	40. Chapter 40

**A/N: sticking this note here at the top again this week because, well, you guys all had SUCH AWESOME feedback for the wedding chapter that I have spent the whole week in a perpetual state of blushing :D which, writing this particular chapter didn't help with the whole blushing thing, but we'll get to THAT in a minute lol. Thank you guys SO MUCH, you are all the BEST, and words cannot express how much I appreciate each of you taking the time to read my giant chapters. It makes the time and effort required to write these monsters very much worth it :D oh, and before I forget, 127Fluffy Kittens - your comment on how I must have an awesome love life or have read Fifty Shades of Grey made me laugh so hard I almost choked lol, because I assure you, I don't have the first thing and haven't (and won't) read Fifty Shades :p I just have a really overactive... imagination. But thank you so much! :D **

**Now, on to the honeymoon lol. Here we have about 25,000 words of pure honeymoon things, and by things I do mean ****_things_****. It's still my typical vaguely worded, non-graphic sort of things but THINGS nonetheless and WOW am I exhausted now after writing it lol. I hope you guys enjoy, and I am SO EXCITED for the next phase of the story. Weeeeee! **

**Also, as usual, my HUGE thanks to midnightwings96 for being indispensable as always. She is responsible for not only most of the ideas in this chapter but also for suggestion the honeymoon location and just SO MUCH and I would be lost and stuck back at chapter, like, 3 without her lol. **

**Thank you guys again, I love you all, and I hope you enjoy! :D chapters should go back to normal length next week :)**

* * *

**_Day one_**

The morning following her utterly glorious wedding day, Summer awoke in an unfamiliar but warm and comfy bed. The sheets were tangled around her legs and pooled at her waist, leaving her top half uncovered, and she was laying on her side with her back to a man whose last name she now shared. After blinking a few times and letting all the memories of the day before come rushing back to her, she glanced down towards her chest and broke into a silly smile when she saw the arm wrapped around her waist and the hand gently holding her breast even as the person it was attached to slept soundly.

She giggled to herself, both at Bucky and at the sheer joy and perfection of _everything_. She was still tired and she was a bit sore, but she couldn't remember a morning that she had been happier to wake up to.

Slowly, trying not to disturb him, Summer shifted to lay on her back, and Bucky automatically moved with her but didn't wake even a little. She smiled and watched him sleep for a few moments, torn on what to do next.

On the one hand, she was pretty sure that the morning after one's wedding night was probably supposed to involve waking up in one another's arms and, in all likelihood, skipping breakfast in favor of something a bit more exciting. On the other hand, however, she was starving, still wearing candle wax from the night before, and not entirely willing to wake Bucky up when he was sleeping so well.

Ultimately, she decided to slip undetected out of the bed and get a bit of time to herself to do such mundane things as brush her teeth, take a shower, and then very seriously consider what to wear for the rest of the morning.

Chances were that Bucky would hear her clamoring around the little kitchen she was going to make breakfast in, so what did she want him to see her wearing during their first morning as a married couple?

The answer ended up coming quite quickly and easily. The lingerie set that she had worn under her gown the day before had come with a long, _very_ sheer robe that she found in her suitcase and put on... over nothing. Grinning to herself, she began to head out of the bedroom, only to pause, creep back in, grab her high heels, and then hold back a mad cackle as she dashed for the kitchen.

Once she was safely within the confines of the little cottage's kitchen, she slipped the heels on and then went about scouring the fridge and cabinet for food. There wasn't a _lot_ of it, but she found enough to get a decent breakfast going and distract herself from wondering when Bucky would wake up and come find her.

While she cooked, she also texted Natasha asking how David was holding up. She got a very to the point reply back that said he was still sleeping and to stop texting and get back to enjoying her honeymoon. Summer grinned at that and obeyed, setting her phone aside and finishing up breakfast.

Her heels clicking noisily against the hardwood floor, Summer took a plate to the table and set it down, then turned around to go back and retrieve a fork. In the process, she glanced towards the kitchen's doorway and then froze, a smile crossing her face when she saw that Bucky was awake and currently staring at her as he stood as still as she was.

Hair a mess and dressed only in _very_ well fitted black boxer briefs, Bucky watched her square her shoulders and face him fully and smile, as to show herself off. She was suddenly very aware of how the robe's tie had come half undone in the process of moving about the kitchen, leaving it covering even less of her than it already was. Knowing that what was covered was still on display thanks to the sheer material, Summer relished the way that his eyes raked over her and then cheerfully chirped, "Good morning."

He was at a loss. His eyes dropped from her head to her toes - lingering especially long on her shoes, which was why she'd put them on to begin with - and then rose back up to meet her playful gaze, but he still couldn't seem to find actual words to say. Smirking, she turned and was back on her way towards the silverware drawer, making sure to sway her hips a little as she walked and _feeling_ his eyes glue themselves to them.

Once she had her fork, she nonchalantly walked back to the table and then pulled out a chair and sat down, not saying another word but hearing his quiet footsteps as they slowly brought him out of the doorway and closer to her. She took a few bites of food and then smiled up at him once he was within reach and had stopped, staring down at her like she was the center of the universe. She swallowed and then said, "I also made coff..."

Bucky sliding down to his knees in front of her without warning made her words die in her throat, and the first thing he did was untie her robe and pull it apart, leaving it hanging on her arms and fully exposing her body to his eyes. Then his hands went to her legs, which had been crossed, and he pulled them apart before hooking behind her knees and pulling her closer to the side edge of her seat. She gasped quietly in surprise, then smiled when Bucky asked lowly without breaking eye contact, "What the _hell_ are you doing?"

"Eating," she shrugged innocently, unable to wipe the grin off of her face. "I'm hungry."

His deeply serious expression lightened then, just for a moment as he grinned crookedly and replied, "Yeah, so am I."

Then he pulled one of her legs straight, supporting her calf with his metal hand while his other traced the delicate straps and fastenings of her shoe, all while his eyes took their time in enjoying the sight before him. His lips pressed a gentle but hot kiss to the inner part of her ankle, and somehow, just that one single touch made her entire body tingle. Then he looked up at her, made eye contact that made her bite her lip in anticipation, and then he was lazily kissing his way up the inside of her leg, each kiss longer and more open mouthed than the last.

After he had placed her leg over his shoulder and was dragging his lips up her inner thigh, he looked up at her again and flashed her a grin before saying, "You'd better hold on to something, sweetheart."

She had one hand on the table and one in his hair when he got started, and while it wasn't the breakfast she had _imagined_ serving her husband on the first day of their honeymoon, it was certainly something neither of them would forget any time soon. He was relentless from the start, and her plan to teasingly walk around all but naked and in heels backfired in only the best of ways.

And she _might_ have left a scratch or two on his back from the pointed heel of her shoe, but every time he felt it, it made him moan against her and only attack her with even greater determination. By the time she noisily and uncontrollably shakily reached her end, he was panting and flushed and she was halfway out of her seat. Food all but forgotten, she only came back around to reality when she felt strong arms wrap around her and set her back upright in the chair. Holding her to his chest and still kneeling but on one knee now, Bucky kissed her forehead and smiled against her hair as she laid her head on his shoulder.

"Thanks for breakfast," he teasingly whispered near her ear, his hand stroking through her hair, and she groaned and buried her face deeper into his neck, somehow still managing to be a little embarrassed after _everything_.

But, after a moment or two, he gently eased her head up so he could look at her, and as he smiled at her in an incredibly loving and warm but still heated way, she blushed and ran a hand up his bare chest. "You're, um... welcome?"

His eyes telling her how cute he found her, he leaned in and kissed her, and it was incredibly chaste compared to what his mouth had been doing a few moments earlier. She held him close and kissed him again, then became wholly confused when he pulled his hands away from her and said after they'd parted, "I'll go get the coffee."

Then he started to get up. But her hands yanked him back down by his shoulders, and she asked with her brows furrowed, "Are you kidding me?"

His expression was all innocence, which she found ironic. "What?"

She tilted her head, giving him a pointed look, and asked with a slightly humorous tone of offense, "What about _my_ turn?"

He paused, jaw clenching but otherwise impressively poker faced as he replied, "You said you were hungry, so I figured..."

She sighed, as if explaining what she said next was a heavy burden, then snaked one hand behind his neck to play with his hair while the other trailed a slow line down from his collarbone through the middle of his chest and on. "See, here's the thing. I'm your wife now. I've got this pretty ring and your last name and the whole rest of my life to spend with you, and a big part of that is taking care of you."

Her fingertips tickled slowly down over his stomach, he licked his lips and let them curve slightly upwards. "Yeah?"

She nodded in confirmation, fingers reaching the waistband of the only fabric on his body. "Yup." Then her hand moved lower, over something that he had apparently been ready to somehow ignore, and she watched with great satisfaction as he instantly tensed and hitched his breath. "So why don't you get off your knees and let me do my job?"

He responded by letting out a huff of a breath and kissing her, much more deeply than he had before, but he still didn't do as she said for awhile. He seemed content with the teasing touches of her hand and her mouth joined to his, but she had better plans for it and eventually broke away to say in slight exasperation, "Stand _up_."

He gave in that time, getting to his feet and letting her instantly tug him forward by his hips. He watched her all the while, flushed again and unable to keep his hands off of her, so he busied himself with brushing all of her long dark hair out of her face as she did away with the last barrier between them.

Feeling more daring today than she normally ever did, thanks in large part to her dance the night before and the incredible experience that it had been, she glanced up at him first and grinned. "Might want to hold on to something." She paused, and before she could think better off it, added, "_Sweetheart_."

He laughed. And it was the first time she ever heard a laugh from him turn into a moan.

What better way to officially start a honeymoon?

* * *

Eventually, once they both managed to actually consume _food_ and, begrudgingly, get clothes on, it was then nearly time to head to the airport to catch their flight out. Summer did her best to clean up the cottage and leave it in acceptable condition while also making sure they had everything they needed for the trip. Having prepared well in advance, it wasn't too difficult of a task, and before she knew it, they were on their way.

She had never flown anywhere with Bucky before, and it didn't occur to her until right as they were walking into the airport that she was about to go through TSA security with one of the world's most wanted, prolific, and terrifying fugitives. Then there was the whole issue of getting through the scanners with an arm made entirely of metal, and she was on the brink of a panic attack after they'd gotten their boarding passes and were walking straight towards security.

But Bucky was entirely calm, in his usual incognito casual attire and ever-brilliant hat, and Summer at his side looked up at him a bit wide-eyed just before they reached the line for security.

He noticed this and gave her a concerned look. "What's wrong?"

"_Security_," she whispered harshly. "This is stupid! We should have talked Tony into letting us use his jet or something, because -"

"Relax," he whispered back. "They won't see anything. Tony fixed that when he fixed my arm last year."

"He did? But -"

"Yes, now stop before _you_ attract attention," he said, and she promptly shut up.

And, to her eternal relief, they really did get through security perfectly fine. Thank God for billionaire geniuses named Tony Stark.

After that, getting on the plane and getting in the air was a breeze. It was the first time she had flown since Steve had paid for her to fly to New York to visit Bucky, back before they had even had their first date. Realizing this placed her mind in a happy, nostalgic sort of place, and once the plane reached cruising altitude, she turned away from the window to her right and smiled at the man sitting next to her and holding her hand on top of the arm rest between them.

She liked the fact that his ring was on his right hand. It meant that when they held hands, she could see and feel both of their rings, and it was the sort of thing that made her feel even more warm and fuzzy inside.

"I don't think I've ever seen you smile this much," he remarked, brushing his thumb over her hand and leaning his head back against his seat. They were alone in their row, and the plane in general was fairly empty.

"Well, I _am_ a newlywed on my honeymoon," she pointed out. "And I haven't seen a frown on your face lately, either."

He grinned at that. "Nope."

She smiled back, then sighed. "So. A whole week to ourselves. What are we going to _do_ the whole time?"

His grin widened and shifted into something a little more... suggestive. "I'm sure we'll find ways to stay busy."

"Maybe," she teased. Then she glanced out the window again, and something suddenly occurred to her. She mulled the thought over for a minute or two before deciding to just come out with it, because if there was any time to ask the question on her mind, it was definitely this week.

She turned back to him and asked quietly, "Can I ask you something?"

"Do you really have to ask that?" he replied with a small smile.

She smiled back, all of a sudden blushing slightly. "I... well. Okay. So, I was just wondering something."

He nodded, waiting. She dropped her voice lower. "I was wondering what, um... what... okay." She paused, rolled her eyes, then reminded herself that she had stripped and given this man a _fricking_ lap dance the night before. If she could do that, then she could spit out this question.

"I was wondering if there's anything you want to do but haven't told me before. Like a... fantasy, I guess."

"Oh." He looked surprised for a moment, but then he grinned and asked, "You mean besides last night?"

"Yes, besides that," she smiled, eternally proud of herself for pulling that off a little _too_ well.

Bucky's expression turned contemplative, and he thought for a few moments before shrugging and finally saying, "I mean, I don't spend a lot of time fantasizing. I don't normally _have_ to."

"Well, I know," she replied. "But what I mean is like... okay. So when you're alone and you have to..." She gestured vaguely and added with raised eyebrows, "to _yourself_. What do you think about?"

Looking a little surprised by her question, he laughed and looked away, and she thought for one mildly terrible moment that she had overstepped or... something. But then she remembered that she was _married_ to this guy now and the question was totally within reasonable bounds.

"What?" she smiled. "I just want to know because... you know. For reasons."

He turned back to her and smirked. "Reasons, huh."

She nodded. "Yes."

His gaze narrowed a little, and he tried to turn the tables on her. "What about _you_? What do _you_ think about?"

"_Oh no_, you're not flipping it around on me, nope," she quickly shook her head, smiling. "I asked you first."

"Fine," he conceded. He spent another long moment in thought, and when he spoke, what he said surprised her. "I don't really... want to tell you. Not because I'm embarrassed or anything but I just... I don't think you'll like it."

She furrowed her brows and wondered how in the world that could even be possible. Unless he secretly had one of those _weird_ fetishes that she wouldn't speak of, but that seemed highly unlikely. "Why not?"

He paused again, his eyes dropping to stare at their joined hands. "Because you've been through things and I don't ever want to bring any of that back for you."

Now she simply _had_ to know the details, whatever they were. "Just tell me."

He swallowed, chewed his lip for a second, then closed his eyes briefly before letting it out. "It's about control. Controlling you. Tying you up and..."

He trailed off, and she pointed out in confusion, "I told you last night that I _wanted_ you to tie me up."

"But it's more than that," he insisted. "It's not just tying to your wrists to the bed and doing everything else the same."

"What is it?"

At this point, they were whispering to keep the conversation private. Bucky looked at her and said, "Controlling everything you feel and do. Making it last. Getting you there and stopping. Over and over. Just..."

"... Dominating me?" she guessed, squeaking a little. He was naturally dominating, but he'd never gone quite _that_ far. Not only had he never restrained her, but he'd never kept her on the edge like that. It was usually more his style to push her over it repeatedly until she was half dead and in need of an ambulance.

"I guess so," he shrugged. "But I wouldn't ask that of you. And I know you said you wanted the tying up thing, but are you sure?"

"_Yeah_," she answered without hesitation.

"You have to be sure," he said, eyes and demeanor incredibly serious. "Because if anything I do to you _ever_ reminds you of what he did..."

She shook her head quickly, squeezing his hand to emphasize her next words. "I trust you, Bucky. And I would tell you the minute anything starts to freak me out, but I know it won't. And if you want to... control me and do all of that stuff... then do it."

He looked at her cautiously, almost like he thought what she was saying was too good to be true. "Summer, I..."

"Seriously," she nodded. "I want you to. It sounds... _yeah_. I'm all for it. I'll die, but I'm okay with that."

"If I hurt you or went too far..."

"You _won't_," she assured him, urging him to believe her. "Besides... I kinda don't think you could take it very far, anyway."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Oh?"

She nodded, grinning at the sudden challenge in his eyes. "There's a term for what you're talking about, you know. It's a _thing_. But you don't like denying me anything. Especially not _that_."

"I like it in my head," he replied simply. He grinned when she faltered at that a bit, no doubt because she was imagining him imagining it.

"... Exactly _what_ do you think of?" she asked, dying for a specific or two. If this was going to happen - and God, she hoped it did - she wanted to know what to expect, beyond the general idea.

Perhaps because he believed her when she told him that she really could handle this, he spoke his next words in a more comfortable and intentionally low, heated way, surely looking to get a rise out of her. "A lot of begging. Just... watching you whine and beg me to let you come. And not giving in until I've done everything I can to get you there and then stopping. A lot. Then when I let you, you just... scream because it's that good."

Her face aflame, she hung on every word he said and then had to look away when he was done, because she needed to giggle nervously and not scream the way that she wanted to. What he was proposing was terrifying in an intriguing and amazing way, and once she regained enough of her wits to speak, she didn't hesitate to give the idea her most enthusiastic stamp of approval.

"Okay. Yeah. Yes. Now I need it."

He looked surprised again. She still couldn't understand why. "_Really_?"

She nodded nearly hard enough to jostle her brain. "God yes. And tonight, please. Because now I'm not gonna be able to stop thinking about it. Good God."

As she used her hand to fan herself, Bucky smiled and unconsciously bit his lip, finally letting it show a bit how relieved and excited he was for his little idea to have gone over so well. She glanced at him and smiled, still fanning herself, only to immediately stop and clam back up when he asked her a certain question again.

"What about you? Ready to tell me now?"

She shook her head vehemently and leaned back in her seat, body language signaling her unwillingness to say a word. "Nope. Besides, I haven't had time for that in like... months. Maybe years. Well, since you."

"But I didn't help you with that at first," he pointed out, getting a little closer to her and using his disguised metal arm to brush a piece of hair behind her ear. "We waited a pretty long time. What did you think about then?"

"Let's just say _you_ and leave it at that," she smiled with false sincerity. "Now let's change the subject."

He nodded. "Fine."

Of course, however, only a few moments later, Bucky's expression became curious again and he asked, "Did you have one of those vibrator things they sell in the aisle next to all the condoms?"

Her eyes widened and she looked at him as if she was suddenly scandalized. "What? No! I mean, maybe, but... no!"

He grinned. "You didn't _always_ have my arm, so..."

She dragged her free hand down her face before muttering, "You know what, you're right, and yes, I was alone and had no sex of any kind for over five years, so even if I did, what's wrong with that?"

"Nothing," he said with slightly wider eyes, though his amusement was still obvious. "Nothing at all." He paused, and when she thought she was safe again, he proved her wrong by adding quietly, "I just remember finding this weird little... thing in the drawer by your bed, back when I first lived with you, and I didn't figure out what it was for _months_."

She groaned and hid her face by smothering it on his shoulder. "That's why you don't go through deprived people's bedside drawers, you jerk."

He kissed her hair, and she could hear the smile on his face in his tone. "Sorry. But for what it's worth... I think it's hot."

Of course he did. She drew away, pouting a little and still blushing like mad as she closed her eyes and announced, "I am taking a nap before I die of embarrassment or smack you for looking through my stuff."

She heard him chuckle, but he left her alone as she kept her eyes closed resolutely and pretended to need a nap in the first place. All was quiet for about two minutes, and then he just had to go and speak again.

"I honestly thought it was a weapon of some kind."

She burst out laughing, and she kept laughing until the urge to cringe and jump off the plane went away.

They would arrive at their destination in just two more hours. Summer hoped that her fiery blushes didn't actually erupt into literal flames before they got there, because she was starting to think that it was a real possibility.

* * *

After their flight touched down at a relatively small airport in Chattanooga, Tennessee, Summer left Bucky with their luggage to get their car rental taken care of. Natasha had reserved the car for them, having indeed set up essentially all of the honeymoon thanks to how seriously she took her position as maid of honor, and Summer was somehow not surprised at all when she ended up picking up a sleek black convertible sportscar. She'd never driven anything like it before, and when she pulled up in front of where Bucky stood waiting for her, she couldn't tell if he lusted more for the car or for the woman driving it.

But not really. She could totally tell. And when she traded places with him to let him drive, handing him the keys, the way that he looked at her all but screamed_ I want to do unspeakable things to you both on and in this car._ She hoped he would.

Afterwards, they had a few hours-long drive to their destination, but with the way that he drove, they got there in considerably less time. He didn't drive quite as insanely as he had when he had zoomed past her and Natasha on the way to Clint's farm the previous morning, but he did drive a lot faster than he ever would with a kid in the backseat. But he had such a good handle on the car that she never once felt like she was in danger or was destined to end up in a ditch.

All along the way, Summer was a veritable chatterbox and even childlike as she took in the drive with her face nearly pressed to the window. When Bucky would glance over and grin at her antics, she would merely explain that she hadn't actually been to that many places in her life. She'd never been outside of the country, and she hadn't visited all that many states either, so she was more than ready to soak up the new scenery.

And once they got to Tony's impressive vacation home that sat tucked away and shrouded in privacy on Lake Blue Ridge, she found that the scenery was even better than the pictures had showed.

Surrounded by tall, lush green trees and the clear, clean, turquoise water of the lake in its backyard, the house was at the end of a long, winding driveway that was also hidden for security purposes. As instantly in love with the picturesque area as she was, the house didn't disappoint either. It was large, incredibly well maintained and manicured on the outside, and it looked like a real home and not anything like the tower that Summer was used to living in.

When they parked at the end of the driveway and then got out after sharing an excited smile with one another, Summer found herself breathing a big lungful of incredibly clean and fresh air, and she decided right then and there that now that the wedding was over and taken care of, getting their own real house would have to be next on the agenda because this was _awesome_.

"Here," Bucky said, tossing her the keys to the house. "Go on in. I'll get our stuff."

She smiled, jumped forward to give him a single little kiss, and then she dashed off to explore the place they'd be spending the next week in.

As private as the house was, it was full of huge glass walls and windows throughout the two floors. That was the first thing she noticed. The second was how warm and immediately comfortable she was in the space.

There was a fireplace in the living room, along with all the latest and best electronics making up an entertainment center there. The kitchen was sleek, spotless and even fully stocked with seriously expensive, _fresh_ food, and Summer had to wonder whose job it had been to come and stock this place for two mysterious week-long occupants. Then she caught a glimpse of the staircase leading to the second floor, lost her train of thought, and ran up the stairs with a big, silly grin.

The master bedroom was even better than Tony had told her it was. Decorated mostly with calming shades of blue and white, with some hints of green throughout, the colors reminded her of the lake outside. The bed was _huge_, four poster and dressed with only the best and most expensive sheets and bedding. The next thing she peeked at was the bathroom attached to the room.

The bathroom was also rather large, and she grinned when she discovered a big circular-shaped bathtub and a separate, roomy shower. Knowing they'd definitely make good use of those, she headed back out to the bedroom and then noticed something even better - a balcony.

A good, real balcony was always something she had wanted but had never had, and the kid in her came out some more as she pushed aside long white curtains and opened the two big glass doors to the balcony. She walked to the edge of it, placing her hands on the rails and smiling as she inhaled deeply and took in the gorgeous view from where she stood.

She heard birds chirping amongst the trees and watched the water rustle below, and her smile grew even bigger when she leaned over a bit and spotted a jacuzzi on the deck and a little boat docked not far away. She instantly had plans for both.

She had leaned over just a _little_ bit more, just to try to get a better glimpse of everything, when she heard the sudden distinctly mechanical sounds of Bucky's arm shooting out from behind her and wrapping around her waist, swiftly yanking her back and against his chest. His tone was concerned and startled as he asked, "What the hell are you doing? You could have fallen, or..."

She smiled and shook her head, turning her head to look up at him as she clutched at the arm still holding her securely. "I was just looking. I was fine. _Look_ at all of this! Isn't it gorgeous?"

He looked at her in slight exasperation but looked up anyway, nodding as he took in the view himself. The breeze was softly rustling his hair, and she could have stared at him like that for a long time.

"It is," he agreed, looking back down at her and bringing his other arm around her, cradling her now rather than keeping her from plunging down into the water.

She beamed at him, then giggled a little when he softly kissed her neck. "Did you bring everything in?"

He nodded, raising his head and placing a kiss on her jaw. "Yep."

"Good," she sighed before turning in his arms and pulling him down for a sound kiss. Now that they were officially here, at their honeymoon destination and standing on this balcony right in the middle of true scenic beauty, a sudden rush of happiness had bubbled to the surface and left her unable to do anything but pull him closer and revel knowing that he was all hers for the whole week.

No work, no Avengers calls, nobody bothering them or interrupting them or demanding even a moment of their time. Nothing but them and whatever the hell else they wanted to do for the rest of the week.

What she wanted to do at the moment was clear by the way that she kissed him deeply and refused to let him go, pushing the jacket off of his arms and letting it hit the balcony floor. If he was surprised he didn't show it, instead immediately kissing her back just as long and passionately and letting his hands wander wherever they pleased.

When they broke for air, Summer opened her eyes and smiled as Bucky grinned and gave her _that_ look. She stifled a giggle and said, "Wanna go find out how comfy the bed is?"

"Already?" he teased, though his right hand was already under her shirt and sliding gently along the small of her back. "Sure you wouldn't rather get some food or..."

She shook her head, answering him by pulling up his t-shirt and yanking impatiently until he tore his arms away from her to allow her to take it off of him. She dropped it on top of his jacket and then immediately paused and felt herself frown upon finding his arm still holographically disguised to match his right. He looked confused at her reaction until he glanced down, paused, and said, "Oh."

Then he shifted the arm and disabled the hologram, and Summer looked up and met his gaze as she smiled and pulled him close again. "Sorry. I love you no matter what you look like, but I like you best when you're _you_."

He replied by softly kissing her, then turning her and walking them through the door, away from the balcony and towards the bed that would likely never be the same once they were done with it. He ripped her clothes off of her body along the way, and when they fell into a heap on top of the bed, they both laughed quietly and broke the kiss before climbing fully into the bed and falling into the rhythm they knew all too well and _loved_. They left the balcony doors open, and the breeze kept the room cool while doing nothing to keep the eventual moans and other sounds from drifting out into the atmosphere.

But they weren't worried. After all, there were no neighbors to disturb. Unless one counted the birds outside, who got quite the earful as the afternoon dragged on.

* * *

The day passed by in pure bliss. They didn't bother to unpack yet, instead leaving their new bed eventually to roam around the house, get some food made, and then take a walk outside along the length of the property. They didn't think to throw much of any clothes on until they reached the last task, and once they got back inside, the clothes came back off before they even made it upstairs.

Bucky could hardly believe that any of it was real. Since the moment they had officially been married, he had felt like he was going to wake up at any moment and find that it had all been a laughably implausible dream. But it hadn't happened yet, and keeping Summer near and touching her constantly kept at bay the sudden irrational fears that everything was going to disappear. Thankfully, she didn't seem to be complaining.

After the sun had gone down and they had finished the dinner that Summer had thrown together using the surprisingly high quality ingredients stocked for them, it was her idea to try out the bathtub. He didn't object in the least, and that was where they found themselves when his mind drifted to what was to come later that night.

She was sitting between his legs, head leaned back on his chest and eyes closed as he ran a soft, soapy cloth over her chest, just under her collarbone. She purred as he slowly moved it lower, and the sleepy quality of her voice made him grin, kiss the top of her head, and ask, "Getting sleepy on me?"

"Maybe," she smiled, not opening her eyes. "I woke up pretty early... travelled pretty far... maybe I need a nap."

He nodded, his tone light as he replied, "Go ahead. I thought after we're done here, we could see about getting started on what we talked about on the plane, but if you'd rather sleep..."

Her eyes popped open and she turned her head and twisted it to look up at him with suddenly very wide awake eyes. "You mean..."

He nodded, and that was all she needed to grin excitedly and then splash him a bit with how quickly she tried to sit up straight and bolt out of the tub. But he was faster than she was and always would be, and he held her back before she could get very far. Holding her against him again, he kissed under her ear and murmured, "Not yet."

"Why not?" she whined, though she immediately sank against him.

"Because," he said, kissing a slow line down her neck, "if you want to do this, it means letting me call the shots. And right now, I'm not finished with you in here yet."

She whined again a little bit, but she gave in and let his wandering lips and hands do their work. He wanted her already needy by the time he took her to bed, and since they'd already done this a few times that day, he wanted to take his time and make sure that she was properly and thoroughly ready for another go.

Not that it took much to get her there, but that was beside the point. Just because he _could_ have her ready and willing to beg in mere minutes didn't mean he wanted to, at least not this night.

He did nothing but touch and tease her in the tub, purposefully keeping his hands from her most sensitive places and only kissing her lightly along her neck, shoulders, and ear. It took some time, but once he was satisfied with how frustrated she was, he told her to go ahead and leave the tub and dry herself off.

He was right behind her, watching her wrap a fluffy white towel along her dripping form as he absently threw one on himself, and before she could turn to ask him what next, he reached to her hair and pulled it out of the haphazard bun she'd put it in before the bath.

He'd never get sick of watching her hair tumble down her back, long and soft and begging to be touched. In some ways, her hair had been one of the first things he had ever loved about her, though he hadn't known it at the time. He never would have guessed then that they would have come this far, that she would be his wife and that he'd be _happy_. He especially never would have thought that she would be willing to entirely give up control to him, and yet here they were.

He reached forward and pulled all of her hair back behind her shoulders, tickling his left hand and soft on his right. Then he leaned in closer, closing his eyes as he inhaled the scent of her hair and reminded himself to stay steady. This was his chance to bring his long-neglected thoughts to life, and he needed to do it right.

But it was hard to keep focused when she leaned back against him, tilting her head back and bringing her hand to the back of his head, trying to coax his lips to hers. He let her pull him down at first, but just before their lips would have touched, Bucky stopped and breathed in more roughly than he meant to.

"Go to bed," he told her, voice low and heavy with anticipation. "Lie down. Wait for me."

An incoherent but quiet sound was his answer, and then he let her slip away to follow his orders. He glanced in the mirror after watching her walk away, wondered _still_ what the hell she saw in him, then turned and headed back to the bedroom himself.

She was climbing into bed, still wearing the towel, when he walked into the room. She blushed when she turned and their eyes met, and he watched her scoot towards the middle of the bed as he headed towards their suitcase on the floor. He only looked away to lean down and unzip the bag, then rummage through it to find what he was looking for.

He found it near the middle of his pile of clothes. A silk black tie with dark red stripes, one of two that Summer had packed for him, and while then he had thought it silly to pack such a thing, now he was glad that she had.

Tie in hand, he straightened up and headed towards the bed. She watched him all the way, eyes big and as excited as they were nervous. Then they got bigger when he nonchalantly dropped his own towel and followed her into bed.

He knew how she liked it when he crawled to her, so that was what he did, and the effect was instant. She bit her lip and scooted back against the pillows behind her as if to get away even though they both knew she'd sooner die than leave the bed. He stopped short of her, just before he would reached her, and then after running his eyes slowly from her feet to her eyes, he remarked, "You know, the first time we slept together, it also started with you in only a towel."

She smiled at the unexpected memory, and it seemed to briefly disarm her. "And our first I love you's."

He smiled back just as warmly, remembering that night and how incredible it had been to hear those words and _have_ her for the first time. A lot of time had passed since then, as well as a whole lot more firsts, and a low thrill flew through his belly as he realized that this was definitely going to be a first of its own.

He couldn't wait any longer. But he had to ask her a few things first, before he did anything with the tie in his hand.

His left hand took one of her ankles and extended her leg, and then he was crawling over her while making _very_ sure that he didn't actually touch her at all. She stared up at him and his face was the picture of seriousness as he asked her, "You're still sure about this?"

"Oh my God, yes," she replied breathlessly.

"Okay. But promise me you'll tell me the minute any of this starts to bother you, or if you don't like anything. _Promise_ me, Summer."

She nodded quickly. "I promise."

"I mean it. Don't hesitate to say something. I only want this if you do."

She nodded again, vaguely resembling a bobblehead at this point. "I want it, Bucky, _please_ stop making me wait."

At this, he let his concerned and cautious expression slip into something a lot more teasing. "I haven't even gotten started making you wait, Summer."

He loved the fretting way that she frowned and whined quietly. He knew that she thought that he couldn't do it. But she was wrong.

Grinning in dark anticipation, he nodded towards the bedpost behind her and said, "Put your arms up."

She didn't hesitate to obey. Once her hands were near the wood they'd soon be tied to, he leaned forward and placed the tie between his teeth as his hands went to her wrists. After positioning them how he wanted them, he held them in his right hand while his left pulled the tie out of his mouth. He glanced down and, seeing how Summer was watching him and already breathing heavily, he teasingly ran the silky fabric against her cheek before placing it where he needed it, looping it around the wood a few times.

He then quietly and methodically began tying her wrists to the bed. He'd never done this to anyone before - or at least he was pretty sure that he hadn't - but he made sure to make it tight enough to keep her restrained but loose enough to not hurt her.

And once he only needed to tug on the fabric one more time to fully restrain her, he did it with his teeth instead of his hand. He thought it would be a nice touch, and the way that Summer's mouth dropped open as she watched him seemed to suggest that she agreed.

Once he was finished and satisfied with his work, he sat back and let his eyes soak in the sight before him. Summer, laid out before him in only a towel, already blushing and breathing shortly though he hadn't even begun yet, bound to the bed and completely at his mercy.

He met her eyes and grinned in a way that even he could tell was utterly _dirty_. He was going to make this a night they'd both never forget.

* * *

Summer would be eternally proud of the way that she didn't freak out or start flashing back to her night of hell all those years ago the minute she found that she couldn't move her arms. None of it came rushing back, not a single speck of it, and instead she found that she actually quite _loved_ this. Of course, it was early in the night, but just because of the way that he _looked_ at her... she was _all about_ this.

For a long moment, Bucky sat there, staring at her as if trying to decide what to do first. Her heart already pounding in her chest, she tugged experimentally at her restraints and found that she was well and truly stuck, and she was okay with that so long as he just stopped staring at her and _touched_ her some time this year.

The first thing he did after presumably deciding on a plan of attack was reach his right hand down to her towel and gently pull it off of her. Once it was on the floor, near his own towel, he took _another_ long moment to stare at her and take her in, from top to bottom. Once his eyes reached her closed legs, he tapped one thigh with a single finger and said, "Open."

She obeyed, and her blush intensified when his eyes went _there_ and surely saw how embarrassingly ready she already was for him. It only made him grin even more, then lift up his eyes and say in a sinful tone, "You're even more fucking perfect like this than I imagined."

He knew what his cursing did to her. He knew it, he relished it, and she knew it. He didn't curse much in the daytime, though, and she thought it was intentional. Like he didn't want it to ever lose its impact or her get fully used to it, so he reserved the bulk of his vulgarity for moments like these.

All she could do was keep breathing and wait for him to do something. When he finally did, it was lowering himself down to hover over her more closely, then trace her lips with his right thumb.

"I've imagined you like this a lot," he admitted. "Never thought I'd get to see the real thing."

She smiled at that, then kissed his thumb just before it left her lips. He leaned down and she closed her eyes, thinking he was going to kiss her, but his lips landed instead high on her neck. She opened her eyes and sighed, knowing better than to start whining now. This was only the beginning of what she'd gotten herself into.

He painstakingly slowly kissed his way down her neck, to her chest and everywhere _but_ the places that would make her tingle with pleasure. More than once, her hands tried to go to his hair like they were used to doing in situations like these, but they were useless to her now. She couldn't guide him or take anything from him. She simply had to wait and try to keep her voice under control as he took the term "taking one's time" to new levels.

He kissed all the way down to her feet, running his lips up to the top of each one before kissing back up to her legs. His hands followed his kisses, both hot and cold and more than enough on their own to make her need much, much more.

Once his kisses were dragging slowly up her inner thighs, she fully expected to just keep on his merry way and ignore what laid between them. But he didn't exactly meet her expectations. Instead, once he got there, he looked up at her and maintained full and searing eye contact as he opened his mouth and stole just one little taste of her. She jerked and let out an embarrassing gasp, and he grinned at her and _then_ kept on his merry way back up.

She groaned and dropped her head back on the pillow. She heard him playfully remind her "_Patience_" just before he bit at her side hard enough to surely leave a mark. She yelped in surprise, then shivered when his tongue soothed over the skin.

It felt like an entire year had passed before he rose back up, lips close to hers but still not touching. She looked up at him with pleading eyes, trying to lift her head and kiss him, but he stayed just shy of where she could reach, running his fingers through her hair while she asked, "Can't you at least kiss me?"

"I _can_," he replied playfully, their lips still so close but not close enough. "But I like this too much."

She let out a huff through her lips, letting her head fall back against the pillow again. "This is torture."

Then he chuckled darkly and kissed her cheek. "Oh no, this isn't torture yet. Not even close."

She was about to ask what the hell could be worse when he started sucking at a few different points in her neck, intent to mark her clear, and then his hands were wandering lower. His right hand _finally_ went to her breast, teasing it before his mouth followed and began a different form of torture. All she could do was gasp and squirm, looking for friction and finding none, though she tried.

By the time he lifted his head and gave her a break, she was already trembling, and he could see this as he looked her over. His hand sliding slowly across her stomach, his eyes lingered below it before he grinned a little to himself and murmured against her ear, "You've already ruined these sheets, _malyshka_."

Her eyes, which she hadn't remembered closing, flew open and she was ready to voice how unfair it was to throw Russian pet names at her at this particular time, but then she closed her eyes and moaned with relief because his hand was finally showing her the attention she needed. Once again, she tried to reach for him to pull him down for a kiss, but she was still very tied up and he was still entirely in control. She didn't complain, though, because he was still kissing everything but her lips and there was nothing teasing about what his fingers were doing to her. And she was so wound up that it wasn't going to take her long _at all_.

"You're shaking," he noted, pulling away just enough to look down at her. She moaned wordlessly in reply, and he watched what his hand was doing to her for a moment or two before leaning down and kissing the corner of her mouth. "So close, so soon..."

And then he stopped. She almost squealed in indignation, and then she remembered that his denial was what tonight was all about.

She whined and turned her face towards her arm, trying to hide it for some irrational reason, but cool metal fingers grasped her chin and pulled her face back to where he could see it.

"No hiding," he said firmly. She nodded, though she wanted to scream in frustration and maybe cry a little bit, because she knew that he had barely even gotten started and she was already ready to die.

He shifted, holding himself up on his right arm rather than his left, so that his metal hand could pick up where his other left off. She braced herself, wondering how she was going to endure this and not just explode. As that hand made its way to her, she closed her eyes and listened to Bucky tell her how beautiful and perfect she was, not entirely in English. That alone gave away how affected _he_ was, because he didn't lapse into Russian just for the heck of it. He only ever did that because he couldn't help it, and if he couldn't help it, that was quite the good sign.

He languidly teased her with his metal fingers and rained kisses across her chest before he bothered to turn on the vibration. The second that he did, she let out a sound that she was shocked she was even capable of, and her entire body arched towards him as he watched her in awe.

It was perfect. She felt helpless in the best of ways, and being at his mercy like that made everything somehow feel even stronger. It was so good, in fact, that he had to rip his hand away when she got too close _way_ too fast.

That time, she merely sighed and dropped back against the pillow. She was going to cry if he kept this up as long as he had suggested he would. But _surely_ he would lose the will to string her along eventually...

He bit at her earlobe, and her resulting shiver brought her back to reality. She opened her eyes when he looked down upon her again, his gaze meeting hers and his eyes utterly _ravenous_ as they took her in.

He leaned down, and she thought he was finally going to kiss her. He didn't. Instead, he kept his lips a breath away and began tracing her lips with his flesh fingertips again.

"I _love_ your mouth," he said, greedily taking in her lips and gently pressing down on her bottom one with his thumb. "You don't know what you do to me."

Judging by what was pressing against her hip, she did have an idea of what she did to him, but she kept her mouth shut. Or, more accurately, she opened it when his fingers bade her to do so, and then she was sucking on two of them like they were a different part of him.

He _moaned_. She kept her eyes locked with his all the while, and she thought that maybe he would crack now and give in. After all, he surely needed some relief of his own, and he could only hold out for so long.

Instead, he watched in heated wonder as she let herself become all but _wanton_, humming and flicking his fingertips with her tongue, hoping to break his resolve in the process.

But all he did was start talking again.

"You're so good at that," he marveled quietly, eyes glued to her mouth. "I bet you'd love it if I let you do it right now, like this. Wouldn't you?" His eyes flickered up to hers. "I've never let myself fuck your face before. But you'd love that, wouldn't you?"

Her brain derailing, her jaw slackened and she lost her hold on his fingers. He withdrew them and smirked at her wide-eyed look. "I'm not going to. Not tonight. But I think you've had long enough of a break."

He _almost_ kissed her. His lips brushed hers just before he disappeared, sliding down her body with determination born anew. She tensed, knowing what was coming and both dreading it and wanting it more than life itself.

This time, he didn't linger or tease her to death, because he didn't have to at this point. Instead, all the warning she got was a nip to her inner thigh before his mouth was on her and she was at his mercy all over again.

He started and stopped more times than she could count. He went from unbearably slow and teasing to merciless at a mere whim, more than once, and the noises coming out of her mouth sounded pathetic to her own ears. And every so often, he'd stop, look up at her, wait until her breathing had evened by just a fraction, and then start again.

This happened over and over and _over_. Many times she came close to losing it, and each time he stopped at exactly the right moment to leave her hanging. It wasn't easy for either one of them - he was panting and sweaty and she was an absolute wreck. But he didn't give in, even when she reached the end of her rope.

She had been so close once again, so _very_ close, and after now being denied so many times that it was criminal, she felt him start to pull away again. But this time, she didn't let him go so easily. Before she could even comprehend what she was doing, she wrapped her thighs around his head, using her legs for leverage, and _forced_ him back down.

She then froze with the sudden realization of what she had done. Apparently, all those months of dance training from Natasha had resulted in her legs being strong enough to do what they had just done. She hadn't known, because she hasn't exactly _tried_ to do anything like that until that moment.

Still holding him in place, she looked down at Bucky and felt her heart skip. He was staring up at her in the same kind of shock that she was in, only he appeared infinitely aroused and extremely impressed by her new strength.

He didn't say a word before dropping his face back down and _devouring_ her with new and reckless abandon.

It was _perfect_. And she knew that this was it, that he was going to stop torturing her now and just let her fall apart. It had been so long since they had started this, and he had to know how badly she needed it. He couldn't deny her again.

Only he _did _denyher again_. _And he grabbed her legs and held them still to keep them from pulling him back down when he stopped.

This time, she actually did cry. It didn't feel like normal crying and it certainly wasn't sad or happy crying. It was more like the bubbling over of a volcano's worth of frustration, and as the tears streamed down from her eyes, Bucky crawled back up to her and immediately held her and began wiping the tears away.

He hushed her and whispered sweet nothings in her ear, trying to calm her down. He kissed her temple, her forehead, ran his fingers through her hair as she trembled and strained against the fabric keeping her arms and hands tied down. She wasn't sure why she was acting like this, and she didn't have the brain power to even try to figure it out.

"Shh, baby," he whispered, thumb tracing her cheekbone and kissing her temple again as her breathing only calmed just slightly. "Look at me."

She obeyed, opening her eyes and finding him incredibly close but too far away to touch. Her eyes instantly dropped down to his lips, and it was an unspoken plea that didn't fall on deaf ears this time. Maybe it was the crying or her general distress that did it, but either way, he finally took enough pity on her to truly kiss her at last.

It was long and slow and deep and _almost_ everything she needed. He moaned into the kiss and it was the closest she had ever come to falling apart just from a mere kiss, and if he had just barely touched her once, she might have. But he didn't.

It felt like it lasted forever and yet was over too quickly all at once. His forehead against hers, he reluctantly broke the kiss, breathing almost as heavily as she was and taking a moment to steady himself.

But she didn't need a moment. She'd had far too _many_ moments, so she wrapped her legs around his hips again and pled shakily into the tiny space between them, "_Please_."

He didn't resist her. She felt him grind just barely against her as he asked, "Please what?"

"You know what," she replied, shuddering when he moved more firmly against her. It still wasn't enough, but it was _something_.

"Say the words," he said, tone still softer than before but utterly commanding.

She almost whined again. Words... what were words, anyway?

He kissed her, again moaning lowly as his tongue touched hers, and then he broke away to say, "I won't touch you again until you say it."

"Say _what_?" she asked in exasperation, desperation, and a bunch of other terms she couldn't remember the meaning of in that moment.

"You know what," he replied, parroting her words back to her with a faint grin. "You know what I want to hear. And I know that mouth of yours can be just as dirty as your mind if you'd just let it."

She groaned in despair and shook her head. "I can't."

"You can," he assured her. "And if you don't... I won't let you come. I mean it."

She didn't doubt him, not after he'd kept this up for this long. Still, she tried to reason with him. "But don't _you_ want to?"

"Oh I will," he said smoothly. "Even if you don't say the words... _my_ hands aren't tied up." When the implications of his words made her stare at him and blush incredibly deeply, he smirked and added, "I'll do it right here, on top of you. But I won't let you watch. Then when I'm done, I'll only untie you once you've calmed down, but I still won't touch you. And I'll tie you back up if you try to touch yourself."

He was evil. Diabolical. Utterly mean and sadistic and she loved him so much that she might spontaneously combust with the sheer power of her love for him.

"But all you have to do is tell me what I want to hear," he reminded her, sweetly and gently touching her face. "Just say the words, Summer, and I'll fuck you into this bed until you scream."

... How could she think, let alone speak, when he was talking to her like _that_?

He was still moving against her, and all it would take was the slightest of shifting to end their misery. She whimpered, unable to do or say anything,

"Come on," he urged her, between slightly sloppy kisses to her lips. "Just two words. Two words and this is over."

She knew what he wanted, and she desperately wanted what would come next, so why couldn't she just spit it out?!

Then he took her by surprise by pleading with _her_ rather than issuing more commands. "Please, baby," he said, cradling her face and looking her in the eye. "All I want to do is make you come. Say it so I can."

And suddenly, despite the haze of her mind and the painful need pulsing within her, she understood what all of this really was. On the surface, it was a man dominating his new wife and keeping her at his mercy, only letting her have what she needed once she fulfilled his specific terms. But what it really was, beneath all of that, was a man who was a _slave_ to his woman and would do absolutely anything to make her happy and satisfy her. He might have been the one in charge and issuing commands and making conditions, but she held all the true control in her tied-up hands.

This sudden realization gave her the last little push of confidence she needed to do what had to be done.

He was kissing her, still grinding against her and waiting impatiently for her to get the words out. When he pulled away, opening his eyes, she looked up at him with a new bravery in her own eyes and opened her mouth before she lost her nerve.

Her tone quiet but firm, she finally gave in and told him what he needed to hear. "_Fuck_ me, _please_, Bucky."

Instantly, his eyes darkened in both surprise and _incredible_ lust. He didn't move for a minute, too much in awe of her in that moment. "Say it again."

She did, grinning a little bit as she said the words again, finding them less strange feeling on her tongue the more that she said them. She still blushed as if she'd never cursed before in her life, but he loved that and she knew it.

Then he groaned, _loudly_, and kissed her hard as he finally pushed forward and kept his promise to her. The torture was over, and they both moaned with the exquisite relief of finally being joined like this.

There was nothing slow or even sweet about it. The time for that had passed, and now it was a mad, fast, desperate clash of bodies and skin and lips as he roughly took her every bit as fiercely as he had told her he would. He cursed, she moaned, and the bedpost that she was tied to rattled and smacked against the wall with each new thrust of his hips.

Neither wanting to drag it out or keep each other waiting, Bucky issued one last order when he could feel them both racing to their ends. Grasping her hair in his right hand and holding himself up with his other, he kissed her and then said in a gruff, heavy voice, "Scream for me when you come, Summer. Scream my name, _moya sladkaya_..."

He repeated himself against her ear a few times, fully in Russian as his own breaths grew shallow and trembling along with his entire body, and she was lost. She followed his last command beautifully, barely hearing herself as the world stopped spinning for a moment and nothing existed but some of the very best and most life-changing pleasure she'd ever felt.

It was worth every bit of the torture and frustration it had taken to get there, and _more_.

Summer wasn't all there in the moments that followed. She was conscious but barely present, adrift in some strange sort of reality that felt like something like a dream or an illusion. Bucky untied her hands without her noticing, and she only came back to herself once she was being cradled sweetly and safely in his arms while the feeling slowly returned to her numb and tingly arms.

His voice, which had first sounded far away, was the most comforting thing in the world as he kissed her temple and murmured into her ear, "That was incredible. You were perfect, sweetheart, _so_ perfect."

She opened her eyes and looked up at him from where her head laid on his chest, but the second she tried to speak, he shook his head and shushed her with a gentle finger on her lips. "Don't talk, Summer. Just rest. Let me take care of you."

Blinking sleepily, she decided that sounded good to her and kept her mouth shut as she laid her head back on his chest. His fingers ran soothingly through her hair, down her back and up again, and she was almost asleep when she felt him shift and grab something off the bedside table.

She opened her eyes when he took one of her wrists and started rubbing lotion on them, and she was surprised by both how prepared he'd been for this and also by how red her wrists were. She couldn't remember yanking that hard against the tie, but then again, she hadn't exactly been thinking about it at the time. Her wrists felt a little better after he took care of them, and then after he put the bottle back on the table, he slid them both under the sheets and cradled her in his arms once again, holding her like she'd break if he let go.

Before sleep came, she looked up at him one more time in the soft light of the room and smiled. She felt better able to speak now, so she asked, "Did it live up to your imagination?"

He laughed softly, shaking his head. "No. It shattered my imagination."

She smiled with pride in herself, though really, all she'd done was just lay there and whine. But he must not have seen it that way at all. "Yeah. Me too."

"Thank you," he said quietly. "Thank you for trusting me enough to do that for me."

She nodded, smiling and blinking her eyelids to try to keep them open. "Thank you for taking care of me."

He nodded back, and just as she closed her eyes and fell into a deep sleep, she was pretty sure that she heard him tell her that he would _always_ take care of her.

* * *

_**Day three**_

They _tried_ to get out of bed and actually do things on the second day of their honeymoon, but it just didn't work. In fact, they never managed to even get dressed during that second day and most of the third. Summer wasn't complaining about this, but even she began to grow a bit restless by the time the evening of the third day had rolled around.

As fun as it was christening every inch of poor Tony's vacation home that they could - and _oh_, they did - Summer found herself itching to get out of the house as she laid on top of Bucky on the living room couch. The sun was down and they were cozy under a thin blanket, legs entwined and heartbeats still slowing down after Summer had ridden him into oblivion. It happened after she had come out with the intent of finding a movie to watch, and then he had followed her and easily coaxed her into falling on the couch with him and skipping the movie.

And now, as he dozed slightly and she stared at the big, blank TV mounted on the wall opposite them, she began considering the options for what they could do now. She doubted he could focus long enough on a movie to finish one, and it was too dark to do anything outside. Of course, if they drove into the nearest city, they _might_ find something to do there.

A light bulb went off in her head, and she sprang off of his chest fast enough to jostle him and rather harshly wake him up. "Hey!" she squeaked. "Can we find somewhere to go dancing at?"

He blinked a few times. "What?"

"Dancing," she repeated overly slowly. "Can we go dancing?"

"Oh," he said, eyes immediately gluing themselves to her breasts now that she was no longer laying flat on him and they were lightly resting on his chest. "Is there anywhere to dance around here?"

"Well, I'm sure we can find somewhere, and my eyes are up here," she pointed out playfully. He looked up at her and grinned.

She wasn't surprised when his hands went to her breasts next, idly groping and lightly squeezing both as his eyes dropped back down to them. "Before we go, could we one more time just..."

She rolled her eyes and smacked his hands away, but he just put them right back where they'd been. "_No_, because I need a break. I know you're this insatiable super soldier creature who can go and go and _go_, but _seriously_, just _today_, we've done it in the shower, on the table, on the _stairs_, in the bed, and now on this couch, and my lady parts need to take a nap. They're tired. Let them rest for like... a couple hours." He opened his mouth to reply, and she quickly added, "_And_ my jaw needs a break too. And frankly my hand also hurts. The stairs was a _really_ weird angle and my arm still feels weird from how I was holding myself up."

He smiled and laughed softly, and she laughed with him. "Okay, fine," he relented, though he was still palming at her quite insistently. "If you insist."

"You know," she grinned, "before the wedding, I had this irrational fear that our wedding night and honeymoon would be boring because we've already been doing... stuff... for a long time. Obviously I was wrong."

"Obviously," he grinned back, leaning up to capture a nipple in his mouth.

She sighed, closing her eyes and sliding her fingers in his hair but not pulling him away. "Although... can you imagine if we _had_ waited for our wedding night? Like whoa..."

He hummed in reply, probably only half-listening as his tongue swirled around and teased her, and her mind drifted back to their first night together. There really was nothing like the very _first_ night, and that didn't mean that all the subsequent nights hadn't been freaking amazing. It was just different, discovering for the first time what the other likes and what makes them tick, getting to finally _have_ them after waiting and waiting.

Then, for the second time in the last ten minutes, a light bulb lit over her head, and she gave his hair a yank and audibly popped him off of her breast. He looked up at her like he didn't exactly appreciate being so abruptly interrupted, but she merely smiled widely and said, "Hey! I just had an idea!"

"What?"

"Well... what if we _did_ have another first time? I mean, not _really_, obviously, but if we... pretended?"

He tilted his head curiously. "What did you have in mind?"

Once she told him her bright idea, he grinned and agreed without a second thought.

It was going to be a _very_ fun night.

* * *

Later that night, Summer sat at a bar in a little jazz club that Google had found her on her phone an hour's drive from the house, drinking a White Russian - because why not - and trying to maintain her calmness despite how extremely excited she was.

Her hair was down in loose waves behind her back, the front few pieces pinned back and out of her face, and she was wearing the most innocent looking dress that she'd brought with her. It was a sleeveless, knee-length wrap dress that tied at her side, floral print and soft colors, with a neckline that was _just_ free of showing off any significant cleavage. High heels finished the look off, and she looked around her every minute or so, wondering when the night's little game would get started.

When someone sat on the stool next to her, she looked over expecting to find a very familiar face. Instead, she found some random blonde guy grinning at her, and she stared at him as if he was an idiot and purposefully crashing a party that hadn't begun yet.

"Hi," he nodded. "Can I buy you a drink?"

"No," she blurted, cringing immediately because she sounded _extremely_ rude and the guy's face instantly fell. "Um... I mean... I'm sorry. No thank you. I'm... waiting for someone."

"Oh." The guy paused and nodded. "Well... are you sure they're showing up, because you've been sitting here for fifteen minutes..."

Trying not to be too creeped out over the fact that he knew how long she'd been there, she shrugged and replied, "Yeah, I'm sure. And you might want to leave because it's my husband I'm waiting for and we're on our honeymoon and he _might_ beat the living crap out of you if he catches you staring at my boobs like that."

Caught in the act, the guy's eyes snapped up to hers, and she smiled overly pleasantly before lifting up her glass in a mock toast. "_And_ I probably make more money in a week than you make in two months, so I can buy my own drinks."

Nodding in pure defeat, the guy got up and trudged off, leaving Summer to smile to herself and take a victory sip of her drink. She had never actually shut down any unwanted suitors that effectively before, and it was after a few more sips spent rejoicing in her ever-evolving status as a real grown-up that someone _else_ came to take the seat that had just been vacated.

She looked his way out of the corner of her eye, not turning her head, and when she caught just a glimpse of his profile, she had to bite her lip to keep from smiling and giggling like an idiot. It was Bucky, sitting there like a stranger and pretending to be unaware of her presence.

They hadn't even gotten started yet and this was already ridiculously fun.

He ordered his own drink without so much as a glance her way, and she casually drank more herself, checking him out as subtly as she could. He was in dark fitted jeans, a white t-shirt and his black leather jacket that he had been torturing her with for approximately two and a half years. His hair was fixed and perfectly imperfect as opposed to the chaos it had been in for the last three days, and he caught her staring only after his drink had been set down in front of him.

He glanced her way, then did a double take just before she looked away, suddenly blushing as if he really was a stranger who had just caught her ogling him. But she could feel his gaze remaining firmly upon her, and when she chanced another look at him, he was wearing that familiar grin of his and bringing his glass of whiskey to his lips, looking her up and down.

Swallowing a healthy sip of the drink, he set it back down and said casually, "Hi."

"Hi," she replied, voice small even though she hadn't even meant for it to be. She was perhaps embracing her _role_ a little too well.

"I'd offer to buy you a drink, but since you've already got one... guess I'll just ask your name instead."

_Her name._ Was she supposed to use a fake one? They hadn't discussed it, so she just assumed the answer was no and replied, "Summer."

"Summer," he repeated, leaning towards her a bit more, pretending as if it was the first time he'd ever said her name before. "That's pretty. Is that a real name or one you're just making up to get rid of me?"

She giggled and shook her head. "Definitely not." When he merely grinned in reply, taking another drink, she tried to remember how to properly flirt with a stranger and asked, "What about you?"

He set his drink down again and replied by reaching into the top of his shirt and pulling out the chain that hung around his neck. Holding out his dog tags for her to see, it served as both an answer and an excuse to get her to lean closer to read the tiny engraved words.

"James," she said with a small smile. She hadn't called him that since their very first kiss, when he had told her to call him Bucky from then on. "So you're a soldier."

He shrugged to the affirmative. "How about you? What do you do?"

Remembering the kind of girl she was pretending to be and the general persona she'd cooked up in her head, she replied, "Well, I'm not really sure yet. Still figuring all that out."

He nodded understandingly. "You from around here?"

This was so incredibly different to how they'd actually come together that it was almost hysterical. "Yeah, but this is my first night being... out... like this."

"And you're alone?" he raised an eyebrow.

She sighed. "Yeah."

He took another drink, looking her over again before remarking, "Kinda hard to believe that you don't do this all the time."

"Oh? Why is that?"

He shrugged a little, eyes going to her heels as he replied, "Beautiful girl like you shouldn't be hidden away from the world."

She smiled and shrugged innocently. "My family is very protective. They don't even know I'm out tonight. I had to sneak to get out here, which I know is weird for someone in their 20s, but..."

"I understand," he replied, only just then tearing his eyes away from her shoes to look her in the eyes again. "Maybe they've got a good reason." When she looked at him curiously, he gestured to the club and explained, "I've seen every single guy here looking at you like you're fresh meat. They're just waiting for me to get lost so they can come hassle you next. There's even a girl checking you out."

She paused. "There _is_?"

"Blonde, sitting with her friends at a table right over there," he said, shrugging towards said table.

Summer immediately turned and looked for herself, and she indeed saw a rather pretty blonde woman looking her way. When the woman noticed, she smiled and gave Summer a _look_. Summer smiled back and then turned back around with a stupid grin on her face, because _that_ didn't happen often.

Bucky eyed her expression and offered, "I can leave if you'd rather talk to her..."

"Oh, that's okay," Summer immediately replied. "She's hot but she's not exactly my type."

"What's that?" Bucky asked, signaling the bartender for another drink.

Summer smiled in a way that she hoped was as innocent as she was aiming for. "Oh, I don't really know... I mean, I don't have much experience, so..."

"Then how do you know she's not your type?" he asked teasingly. "Don't know until you try."

_Of course_ he would say something like that, just to throw her off balance. The look in his eye suggested that maybe, possibly, he found such a prospect of her _trying_ to be rather intriguing, and she fought the urge to roll her eyes.

"Are you speaking from experience?" she asked, making sure to keep her tone light and innocent.

He grinned and looked down, shaking his head. "Nah. I know what I like."

She smiled a little, then also glanced down before saying, "You know, it's funny. The last guy that sat next to me couldn't keep his eyes off of my chest, and here you can't stop looking at my _shoes_."

He licked his lips, turning his head her way again and grinning as he proved her right by glancing down at the heels again. Then his eyes flashed up to hers and he explained, "That's because I keep imagining what you'd look like in nothing but those shoes."

She couldn't _believe_ it. She didn't have to fake her blush as she internally screamed over him repeating a line that he'd told her in a different language on their real first date. He was good at this. _Too_ good at this.

Smiling shyly and looking away, she covered her face with one hand and said, "Oh my God. You're very... um... direct."

"Sorry about that," he said, tone sincere. "I just try to be honest. And you _are_ beautiful."

Reluctantly, she dropped her hand and looked at him a bit warily. "I just... I'm not that kind of girl, you know? I don't sleep around or sleep with guys I just met."

He nodded. "I didn't take you for one who did."

"I'm sure you're used to girls who throw themselves at you and everything, but -"

"Why?" he asked curiously.

She faltered for a moment before waving her hand at his general visage. "I mean, _look_ at you."

He looked down at himself gamely, then smirked up at her. She sighed and then turned back to her drink with a small smile, only being bad at this halfway on purpose. Flirting was much easier under their usual circumstances, but she was still enjoying this a _lot_.

"Do you dance, Summer?" he asked, making her look up again and instantly shake her head.

"Oh no," she laughed quietly. "God, no. I'm not a dancer at all."

"With legs like those?" he asked in disbelief. "Didn't they teach you in church that it's a sin to lie?"

She smiled and replied, "No, because I'm Jewish."

"Pretty sure the same rules still apply to you," he grinned.

"Maybe," she conceded. "But still. I don't dance."

"I could teach you," he replied. "If you want me to."

She regarded him for a long moment, both of them knowing what her answer would be. Still, she had to pretend to think about it. Then she bit her lip and said with exaggerated innocence, "Well... only if you promise to go easy on me."

He grinned in a way that gave away his true intentions, and _oh man_, she was loving this.

"You have my word," he assured her, smoothly sliding off the stool and reaching out to take her hand. She hesitated only a second before she placed her hand in his, and then he helped her to her feet and stared at her for just a few seconds too long before he began leading her towards the dance floor. They passed Summer's female admirer on the way, and by the time they reached the other dancing couples, she felt a bit giddy inside.

He led her to an empty space and then turned to face her, drawing her closer but not too close. "Just follow my lead."

She nodded, biting her lip again and glancing at the band playing on the stage to their right. They were playing a slow song, and as Bucky began to slowly dance her about their little corner of the club, she found that it was quite hard to pretend to be a bad dancer when she had grown actually quite skilled at it. As a result, she only spent a few moments trying to feign inexperience before deciding to just dance like she normally would.

It was a routine so familiar and sweet that she almost forgot that they were pretending to be other people. He held her close as they swayed, one hand holding hers and the other resting on the small of her back. Her free hand was on his shoulder, at least until he spun her and she went twirling out towards the crowd. She moved with such grace and obvious experience that when he pulled her back, placing her back to his chest and holding her incredibly closely, he remarked with his lips dangerously close to her ear, "You sure don't seem very bad at this."

"... Beginner's luck?" she smiled, tilting her head back to look at him. Her eyes drifted down to his lips in an instant, and then he was turning her again, keeping the dance going as his knowing little grin only grew.

She might have been a skilled dancer now, but so was Bucky and he knew exactly what to do to turn their dance into an exercise in teasing and restraint. She couldn't count how many times she felt his lips brush her ear or neck, and he held her and danced so impossibly closely with her that if they truly had been strangers, she would have been both terrified and incredibly turned on by his body swaying with hers. Even without being strangers, she was still damn close to breathless by the time the song and their steps came to an and.

They didn't stop with just one song. They danced until they had each had their fill, Bucky growing more and more daring with each song, and by the time the last few strains of final songs played out from the stage, they were pressed chest to chest and her arms were wound around his neck, and his lips were trailing small but hot kisses down her neck. She wasn't sure if anyone was looking and she didn't care, because this was their honeymoon and they weren't the only couple there being affectionate with one another.

When Bucky raised his head and ceased the kisses when the song came to an end, his eyes met Summer's and she realized that their game was still far from over. Her stomach jolted a little at the thought, and she quickly tried to think of what she would do under the circumstances they had previously established, if this gorgeous stranger had just come along and given her the dance of her life while also kissing seductively along her neck and molding her body against his.

Her hands slid to the back of his neck, both of them staring at the other, and they would have kissed had Bucky not asked her quietly, "Can I give you a ride home?"

She nodded quickly, perhaps a little too quickly for one as innocent as she was supposed to be, but he didn't know that she had a few plot twists in mind.

He took her hand again, this time to lead her back to the bar, pay their bills, then leave the little club. He didn't let go of her hand until they had stepped out into the cool night air and walked to where their fancy rental car was parked. Like a gentleman of his era, he opened her door for her and helped her get in first, and then he walked quickly to the driver's side and slid in as she crossed her legs and folded her hands in her lap. Her demure body language didn't go unnoticed.

He turned the key and flipped on the ignition. "Where do you live?"

_Time for a plot twist,_ she thought. "I'd rather go back to your place."

He paused between shifting gears, looking at her in surprise and what she easily recognized as an instant glimmer of arousal. She merely smiled in her falsely shy way and added, "If you'll have me."

His eyes dropped down over her body again, all the way to her shoes and back as a grin touched his lips. "My pleasure, kitten."

_Kitten_. First it had been his usual pet names for her in Russian, and now it was kitten. She _loved_ it.

He smoothly and quickly got the car on the road and on the way home, and Summer carefully planned out her next actions in her head before moving a muscle. She wasn't stupid and she didn't want to make him crash the car, but she did want to play with him in a way that she knew he'd never expect from her, let alone this supposedly shy and inexperienced version of her. So she waited until they reached an empty, mostly straight part of the highway, and after glancing in the mirrors to make sure they were alone on the road, she set her sights on him.

He was focused fully on getting them home, so when her hand suddenly slid gently on to his denim-clad thigh, it took him by complete surprise. His head turned from the road to look down at her hand and then at her, and she smiled as she trailed her hand down his inner thigh, towards his knee.

It was a very small car, and their seats were close enough that she didn't have to even unbuckle her seatbelt to lean over and get close to him. As her hand dragged back up his thigh, he gave her a look and said, "Inexperienced and innocent, huh?"

"Maybe," she teased him, looking down and carefully avoiding touching between his legs just yet. "Maybe not."

Next, she bit his ear lobe and slid her hand under his shirt, splaying her fingers over his abdomen and slowly moving them upwards. She kissed his neck and nipped at the spots he liked the most as he touched his chest, groping unashamedly and gently raking her nails down his skin on the way back down.

As she did all of his, his left hand clutched the wheel tighter and his right hand went to her head, not pulling her closer or pushing her away. "Summer, you're... I'm gonna drive us off the road if you keep this up."

"Keep what up?" she asked innocently, her hand slipping out from under his shirt and very lightly brushing over him through his jeans. She felt him tense up immediately, and she could feel that he was already _ready_ and eager for her, even though he was fighting it. She checked the road herself one more time and then resumed kissing and marking his neck, keeping her hand where it was and letting it move and work him up into a frenzy.

His hand left her head to join his left on the wheel, apparently needing the extra steadiness. He set the cruise control and took his foot off the gas, and she took that as a green light to truly go for it. Her hand sped up, and he kept his eyes resolutely on the road and the car impressively steady while simultaneously giving in and leaning his head back against the seat, his breaths growing shorter and little moans leaving his lips the closer she got him.

Relishing this, she watched carefully for his tells and, once he was nearly gasping and teetering on the brink, she quickly switched her hands and used her free one to grab the wheel from him as he fell apart cursing and gasping her name. After all, he might have _actually_ killed them both had she not taken over and steered them through his end.

He panted and blinked still-bewildered eyes open as he came down, and Summer was extremely pleased with herself and also incredibly needy now herself. She waited for him to straighten up and tell her that he was fine to take the wheel, and once he did, she slid back into her seat wearing a filthy grin that he didn't miss. He stared at her with a mixture of awe and lingering shock, and he seemed actually speechless for a moment or two.

She reached her hand to him again, but this time she took his hand in hers and entwined their fingers. He looked from the road to her and she smiled sweetly at him, and he shook his head and laughed quietly. "_Fuck_."

Her grin widened, and for a few moments, all was well and all was silent. They held hands and Bucky enjoyed the slight haze in his head following the unexpected release, but Summer could only hold out so long before she was squirming a little in her seat. She could wait until they got home, but patience had never been her strong suit, and she had liked her little impromptu car idea a little too much for her own good.

Bucky noticed her squirming. "You okay?"

She shook her head and sighed. "No." She didn't have to explain why, because he knew as soon as he glanced over and saw her body language.

To her surprise, his hand left hers and went to _her_ leg. She turned her head and looked at him, heart speeding up when his eyes briefly met hers and his hand pushed up the hem of her dress, then disappeared underneath it. She parted her legs more fully to give him easier access, and as his fingertips edged up her inner thigh, she held on to his arm and held her breath waiting.

At his first touch, she moaned softly with relief and he chuckled darkly at her lack of underwear.

"I'm starting to think you don't have an innocent bone in your body, kitten."

She smiled and let out a breathy mix of a laugh and a groan, keeping her eyes open to watch him multitask. He made driving a car down dark winding roads with one hand and driving a woman crazy with the other look utterly easy.

"Maybe you just bring it out in me, _James_," she breathed, gasping when he quickened his movements in response. He didn't stop or slow down until she was digging her nails into his arm, throwing her head back against the seat and riding his hand until she half-collapsed in a heap of satisfaction.

Blinking suddenly mildly blurry eyes and breathing heavily, Summer was a bit sad to feel his hand leave her and resurface from under the cover of her dress. She watched as he casually brought his hand to his mouth and licked his fingers clean before placing them back on the wheel. She suddenly felt a pang of guilt for what they had already done to this poor rental car, but she got over it the minute he looked over and grinned at her slightly disheveled appearance.

Less than ten minutes later, they were home. The game didn't end there. Rather, it truly began the minute they walked through the door, clawing one another's clothes off and leaving them in a trail that led to the master bedroom upstairs.

Now that they had _warmed up_, Summer could only guess as to what kind of trouble they'd get into next.

* * *

Bucky grinned and laughed softly when his back hit the wall the minute he and Summer stumbled into their room. Nearly the same height as him in her heels, she pressed his head to the wall and kissed him furiously, working on undoing his belt as he yanked impatiently at her dress. He'd been trying to get it off since the moment they got inside the house, but it clung stubbornly to her body and she was making zero effort to take it off herself, too occupied with getting him naked to even think about herself. That left him with one option, and it was likely to make her mad, but _oh well_.

She had slid his jeans down when he grasped the back of her dress and ripped it swiftly and loudly in half. She squeaked in surprise, and as the pieces hit the floor and revealed her fully nude form, Bucky's eyes soaked it all in before flickering up to her own slightly outraged eyes.

"Do you always pick up girls and ruin their expensive dresses once you get them home?" she asked, as annoyed as she was aroused by the action.

Kicking off his pants, he retorted, "Only when they act all sweet and innocent and turn out to be anything _but_."

She responded by kissing him again, even more furiously than before as his hands ran wild over her body. He had to admit, she'd had a _stellar_ idea tonight, and he loved the little surprises that she'd had up her sleeve. He had been expecting her to play innocent the whole night, and then she went and shattered that expectation in the car. He _loved_ it. And they were still in character.

Both of them naked before they even hit the bed, it was a blur of hands and lips and frenzied groping as he let Summer lead him towards the bed. He expected her to throw him down on it and climb on top of him, but instead she walked him to the very edge of the bed and sat him down on it. He pulled her down on his lap immediately and they kissed like mad, her hips grinding down on his and making him groan before she broke away and held him back by his shoulders as she caught her breath.

He watched her eyes flicker to something behind them, towards the head of the bed, and then there was a glimmer of something slightly devious in her eyes. He was about to turn around and look for himself, but she grabbed him and kissed him again before he could. After, she pulled away and instructed him, "I have an idea. Stay here and don't move. No peeking."

Before he could even ask, she was off his lap and he was wondering what in the world she was up to. He got his answer when he felt the bed depress behind him and her breasts press against his back, just before her hands reached up to cover his eyes.

She kissed his neck once, then said sweetly against his ear, "You don't seem the type to get much of a thrill out of being tied up, but... I wondered if maybe... you might want to try this?"

_This_, he instantly understood by the way her hands were over his eyes, was being blindfolded. And though they were pretending to be other people, she was still thoughtful and careful enough to ask him his permission first before she tried anything new.

He grinned faintly and licked his lips, nodding slightly. Unlike being restrained, which he could never see himself enjoying after what he'd been through in the past, _this_ was something that he could handle. In fact, he was instantly intrigued by the prospect.

She let her hands fall away, and he turned his head to look back at her as she took his black and red tie in her hands, having retrieved it from where they had left it on the bedpost their first night here. She leaned forward and kissed him, gathering up the fabric in her hands, and then when she broke away, she smiled, "Face forward."

He gave her a look but obeyed, turning his head and then watching as she brought the tie in front of him. He closed his eyes and she very carefully placed the tie over them, tying it around his head and asking to make sure that she hadn't made it too tight. He told her it was fine, surrounded by pure darkness now and immediately feeling his pulse start to quicken.

It was different than merely having his eyes closed. It was far more sensual, even in those first few moments before anything had actually happened. His other senses sharpened in an instant, and when she kissed his cheek and then left the bed, he strained to listen to her footsteps and figure out where she was going.

He got his answer when he felt a hand under his chin, lifting his head as soft lips pressed sweetly to his. He reached out to her, but she quickly slipped beyond his reach and chirped, "Be right back."

Then she was gone.

_What the hell_.

* * *

She hadn't been planning on _this, _but it had seemed like a brilliant idea at the time. Now she just had to figure out what the hell to do with her husband now that she had him sitting blindfolded and naked in bed, waiting impatiently for her to come back.

First she ran downstairs and grabbed a few things from the kitchen, and then she ran back up the stairs and tried not to crash into anything too loudly along the way. Her suitcase was conveniently in their bathroom, which was where she'd left it after getting ready for tonight, and that was her next stop. She rummaged through her things, not sure of what she was really looking for, but she wanted something soft or tickling that she could drag across Bucky's skin. Not surprisingly, she didn't really find anything, but upon unzipping one of the little compartments on the outside of the suitcase, she found a mysterious little bag inside that she had definitely _not_ put in there herself.

She pulled out the little bag, which was a black drawstring pouch that was so discreet it almost for sure meant that strange, unspeakable things inside. This was confirmed by a little tag attached to it, which she turned and read with increasingly wide eyes.

_Enjoy your honeymoon. - Nat :) _

One of the world's most deadly assassins had shoved this bag into her suitcase and wrote a smiley face on her note. A _smiley_ _face_. If that wasn't terrifying, Summer didn't know what was. With suddenly shaky hands, she pulled the bag open and peeked inside. Then she immediately blushed and dropped the bag back into the suitcase, muttering, "Oh my _God_, Nat, why... _why_..."

Although... upon second thought...

She picked the bag back up, one eye cracked open, and emptied the contents. Her eyes widened all over again, because it was like a sampler pack from one of those sketchy but classy-looking adult stores she'd never actually stepped foot in her entire life. She had watched _The Ugly Truth_ before, so she knew what the little black pair of underwear with an accompanying tiny _remote control_ was, but one or two of the other items had no clue about and didn't _want_ to know. They were probably supposed to go places she wasn't okay with, and she was going to absolutely kill Natasha for being this comprehensive in her "sampler honeymoon package".

But, there was _one_ thing that she thought might suit her needs for this particular night. It still made her want to run and hide and act like she'd never even found the bag, but something about the words "warming" and "tingling" and "passion fruit flavor" was intriguing. In a humiliating sort of way.

Deciding to just hurry up and get on with it before he fell asleep waiting for her, she put on a brave face, grabbed her supplies, and headed quietly back into the bedroom, hoping for the best.

* * *

"Took your sweet time, kitten," Bucky remarked with a small grin the moment he heard Summer's quiet little footsteps coming through the doorway. "I almost got started without you."

"That would have been rude," she answered playfully, and he could hear her setting things down not too far away. He wondered what in the world she was planning on doing with him, but he didn't ask because he quite liked the idea of being surprised. She'd done a well enough job catching him off guard so far tonight, after all, and he hadn't had a single complaint yet.

Only a few minutes passed before he heard her come closer, her hands going to his shoulders as she sat down on his lap again. His hands went to her hips, and she kissed him teasingly softly before gently tracing his lips with just her fingertips.

"You're very pretty for a soldier," she noted, sliding her fingertip along the curve of his lower lip. "But masculine at the same time. I bet you get _all_ the girls."

"I'm more of a... one-girl kind of guy," he replied, taking advantage of how close she was and running his hands slowly over her body. He couldn't see it, but his mind provided a very accurate picture from memory of every inch of skin that he touched.

"Hmm... then that one girl is a lucky one," she replied playfully, taking his right hand and dragging it up to her breast, which he cupped and squeezed without need of further instruction. "Hope she won't be mad."

He shook his head, suppressing a groan when she moaned softly at his touch and moved her hips against his. "I have a feeling she won't be."

Then she kissed him again, longer and much more deeply this time, and he wished he could see her but at the same time, he couldn't deny how different and, if he had to choose a word, erotic it was to feel _all_ of her pressing against him but not be able to see a single thing.

He had forgotten entirely about what she might have brought back with her from downstairs when she broke their kiss, panting softly before asking innocently, "Are you hungry?"

He paused and grinned, wondering if that was a trick question. Did she mean food or did she mean...

"Maybe," he eventually replied, very much wanting to find out the answer to his question. He felt her lean away for a moment, then come back and gently place something slightly cold against his lips.

"Open," she instructed sweetly, and he did, trusting her fully. He licked at what she placed between his lips first, and when he tasted dark chocolate, he grinned slightly and took a bite. She'd gotten out the little box of chocolate covered strawberries that had been the fridge since the day they got there. It might have been a bit cliche, but he didn't care. Cliches became cliches for a reason.

Had he had the use of his eyes, he would have stared up at her through his lashes as she fed him the strawberry, but since he couldn't do that, he ate it extra slowly and made sure to let his lips brush her fingertips and linger on them. Then she pulled it away, and after he swallowed, she kissed him and she tasted just like the fruit, having finished it for him. He groaned into the kiss, pulling her closer rolling his hips up at her just a little bit. She broke the kiss then and murmured, "Not yet."

"Gonna feed me champagne next?" he asked playfully, and this time, she got up and left his lap entirely.

"Not exactly," she replied, and he followed her movements with his ears.

A moment later, he felt her crawl on to the bed behind him. There was a bit of rustling, and then she tugged him by the ends of the tie wrapped over his eyes to lean him back against her front. His hands braced himself on the bed, and both of her hands slipped under his arms and slid to his chest. She nibbled on his ear as her hands roamed, starting high and languidly making their way down below his stomach, then spreading to rub down his thighs and ignore what stood between them. He expected nothing less.

His sense of touch being heightened, he was hyperaware of when one of her hands left and disappeared behind him. He had all of two seconds to wonder what it was doing before she _bit_ him, where his neck met his right shoulder, sharply enough to make him gasp in surprise. It didn't hurt, but she'd never really bitten him before, and that made it all the more unexpected.

"I'm sorry," she said in that falsely innocent tone. "Did that hurt? Here, this might help..."

He gasped again, this time also flinching due to the sudden freezing cold sensation where she had bit him. His mind went blank and it took him a moment to grasp that she was running an ice cube over his skin, though she only did it for a moment. Then it was gone, and she was pressing her lips to the now-icy cold mark, kissing softly and then flicking her tongue out to soothe it.

Then she kissed an inch higher, bit him again, and repeated the entire process not once but several times. Halfway through, the hand _not_ dragging ice down his neck and shoulders sneakily made its way to his lap and occupied itself there, and the overload of warring sensations had him cursing and making sounds a lesser man would have been embarrassed by.

She drew her hand away, however, once he got a bit too close for her liking. The ice she'd been using was melted now, dripping from his shoulder to his chest, and she swung herself around to lick it off of him, her hands bracing herself on his knees as she stood between his legs. He groaned loudly, grasping at her blindly and wordlessly pleading for more, but as usual, she was on her own timetable.

She kissed teasingly slowly down his chest, giving him hope that she would keep going, but she pulled away and vanished before her mouth could touch him where he wanted it most. But she was only gone for a moment, and when she came back, she sat in his lap one more time and kissed him softly.

He kissed her back hungrily, moaning and not caring how desperate he sounded. She let him have his way with her mouth for a few moments, but then she drew away and held him back with one hand to her chest when he tried to follow her with a low whine.

"Hey, relax," she told him softly, just as he felt two of her fingertips press against his lips. "Open."

He parted his lips in an instant, sucking her fingers into his mouth and not pausing to wonder why she wanted this from him. He didn't think twice about it, at least not until he realized that her fingers tasted like some kind of fruit and that he tongue was... hot and... tingling. _That_ was when he paused, and she drew her fingertips away. Before he could ask why his tongue felt like that, she kissed him, and it was one of the strangest and also one of the best kisses they'd ever shared.

She seemed to love it, moaning as her tongue slid with his and shared the odd sensation, and the kiss felt like it went on forever. When they finally parted, both of them panting and wound so tightly they could burst, Summer muttered, "That was cool."

"The fuck was on your fingers?" he asked, genuinely clueless, and she giggled before playfully smacking his mouth as if to scold him.

"Such a potty mouth," she said, feigning disapproval as she placed her hands on his thighs and slid off of his lap to get to her feet. His hands held on to her hips, and she kissed him again before starting a long, slow trail downwards.

"But what was it?" he asked, one hand going to her hair as she licked and kissed along the muscles of his abdomen, likely down on her knees now if he had to guess.

"Something I thought you might like," she replied simply. Then she leaned back and slipped through his fingers one more time, and he growled in frustration and impatience.

But he only had to wait for a moment. He nearly jumped in surprise when he felt lips on his inner thigh, and then they were gone. He reached out blindly to try to determine where she was, straining to hear clues, but he stopped trying and simply moaned when not one but two slick hands grasped him firmly. Within seconds, he felt the same sort of tingling that he'd felt in his mouth, and _that_ coupled with the relief of her finally giving him the attention he craved nearly made him dizzy. But it only got better from there.

A rush of cool air that came unexpectedly made the warmth increase exponentially, and only later would he figure out that it was from her blowing on him. When he was halfway there, her mouth replaced her hands and his right hand shot to her hair, grasping it almost too tightly as his moans reached new heights.

He was already so close and had been for so long that it felt like it hit him in an instant with all the force of an oncoming train. Almost ripping her hair from her head and all but _roaring_ out his end, the world ceased to exist and all that remained was the warmth of her mouth and the stars behind his eyes.

In the hazy, heavy moments after, he half-collapsed back on his elbows and Summer followed him, easing him down to lay on his back as he panted and slowly came down from his high. He barely noticed when she reached behind under his head and quietly unknotted the tie, pulling it off of his head and away from his eyes.

Everything was too bright when he first opened his eyes, and it took him a moment of blinking and slowly adjusting before he could fully see again. Summer laid next to him, fingers running sweetly through his hair and watching him catch his breath, and when he turned his head to look her way, she smiled and blushed instantly. She wasn't putting on a show anymore, either. This was truly _her_ again, not the girl she'd been playing all night.

He smiled back, then reached out and touched her free hand with his left. "That was..."

"_Fun_," she finished for him with a wide grin. "I'm gonna have to thank Natasha for sticking that creepy bag in my suitcase."

He paused and furrowed his brows slightly. "What bag?"

"Never mind," she shrugged. "Just... suffice it to say that _I_ didn't pack passion fruit flavored warming personal... stuff."

"So _that's_ what that was," he marveled, reality dawning on him. "Wow."

She nodded. "The wonders of modern inventions, right? I wouldn't have thought to try it since we don't ever actually... need that kind of thing, but..."

He chuckled breathlessly and stroked her hand with his metal thumb. "You were incredible, Summer. I don't mean only just now. All night you were just..." He shook his head, unable to think of words to sufficiently describe just how amazing she was.

She shrugged, her blush deepening. "I, uh... well, thanks."

_There_ was his Summer, perpetually unsure of how to accept a compliment. But he knew there was one way that he could express his gratitude and appreciation that required no words and would make her blush even more than she was now. And now he had an extra "prop" to make it a little more interesting.

"Can you give me the bottle?" he asked, and she nodded and leaned off of the bed to grab it from where she'd left it on the floor. Then she returned to her place at his side and handed it over, and he chuckled at the bright pink little bottle and all of the adjectives on the label. He turned it over in his hand a few times, then flipped it open and looked her way. "Come sit on my face."

He could _see_ the way she gulped and immediately froze, though this wasn't even the first time he'd asked this of her. Then she giggled nervously and babbled, "I, uh, I mean I can wait if you'd rather -"

"Summer," he said firmly, leaving no room for argument, "get over here and _sit on my fucking face_."

She audibly squeaked, getting up and doing as he said, murmuring vaguely about his potty mouth and how she was going to actually have a heart attack and actually die before the week was over.

It had been a long night, but it still wasn't over yet. Once it finally did come to an end, they slept for nearly eleven hours straight in such exhaustion that they didn't even move once, until the next day rolled around.

* * *

_**Day six**_

With the end of the honeymoon swiftly approaching, Summer awoke on the sixth day with an uncharacteristic and surprising idea. It was so surprising, in fact, that when she mentioned it to Bucky over breakfast, he legitimately choked on his coffee.

"You want to do _what_?!" he all but sputtered, staring at her like she had just sprouted a second head out of her ear.

She grinned at his reaction. "I just think that we should... you know... make the most of our last two days here. And we can't really do that if we're just... constantly banging."

"... Says _who_?!"

"Says me," she replied teasingly.

"So you want to go the whole day... with no sex," Bucky said slowly, as if it took him a moment to fully comprehend such a baffling concept. "At all."

"Right," she nodded.

His eyes narrowed, squinting in ever-growing confusion. "... _Why_?!"

She sighed in mild exasperation and smiled. "Because. We're here in this gorgeous little town, and I want to spend today outdoors. Hiking and all that. We've got to at least have one day spent doing... you know. Things. _Thing_ things. Not just _things_."

Bucky leaned back in his seat then, raising his eyebrows and then furrowing them like a headache was suddenly coming on. He soaked all of this in for a moment, then to her surprise, shrugged and nodded. "Fine."

She grinned. "_Really_?"

He nodded again. "Sure."

She tilted her head in sudden suspicion. "You agreed to this a little too easily."

He shrugged, his previous shock all but worn off. "Because I know you'll cave."

Her eyebrows shot up her forehead. "Oh, _will_ I?"

He nodded nonchalantly, taking a smooth drink of his coffee. "Yep."

"Oh please," she rolled her eyes. "You'll totally be begging me way before _I_ cave."

He threw a grin her way and asked, "Want to make a bet?"

"I don't need to bet. I already know I'll win. It would be unfair."

He chuckled, his grin turning challenging as he gave her a _look_ and said, "We'll see about that."

"Yes we will," she smiled, standing up from the table and flitting away towards the stairs. "We'll leave in an hour!"

Bucky sighed and downed the rest of his coffee. He'd make her cave, one way or another. He was sure of it.

The new _game_ began immediately.

* * *

Summer's first tactic was to walk out of the shower and casually drop her towel at Bucky's feet before getting dressed in front of him so slowly that it began to frustrate even her. Just the way that he watched her as she did this made her question the wisdom of her little idea, but she stuck to her guns and reminded herself that she'd had _more_ than enough sex in the last six days to make it through one perfectly okay without it.

Except then, as she got ready quietly in the bathroom, she could see in the corner of the mirror Bucky, mostly naked, dropping to the floor of their bedroom for an impromptu "warm up" of enough push-ups to make her head spin. She might have been okay if he hadn't switched halfway through to pushing up on just one arm, his right one, which was even more impressive considering how much weight his left arm added to his body. Then adding the _noises_ he was surely making on purpose, she stabbed herself in the eye with her mascara wand more than once.

Despite all of this, they managed to leave the house without succumbing to one another's efforts. After that, it was a day full of teasing and enough activities to keep them mostly on track, as they really _had_ needed the day out. But nothing ever went entirely according to plan, and that day was no exception.

It was warm and sunny outside, but the trail Summer found for them to hike along was mostly shaded and _very_ pretty. It wound into the hills surrounding the areas and overlooked the lake beneath, and Summer got entirely too much of a thrill out of seeing various types of birds and small animals pop out along the way. She even encountered a chipmunk that allowed her to feed it some nuts by hand, which resulted in high-pitched squeals and hurried screeches for Bucky to take pictures before the little animal dashed off.

Then, about halfway through the trail they reached the most challenging part of it, which was an uphill walk through the rest of the hill. It was nothing for Bucky, of course, and she would have been fine as well, but she got the sudden idea to bet him that he couldn't carry her and run the rest of the way in under five minutes. Never one to back down from a challenge, he got her to climb on his back and took off running, and all she could do was cling to him for dear life and scare a small flock of birds with her loud squeals.

He reached the end of the trail in less than four minutes. Grinning in victory and also panting with a thin layer of sweat on his brow, he helped her hop on to her feet and then grabbed her arm to steady her when she swayed a bit. She laughed and let him guide her to a nearby tree, which she leaned against as she tried to catch her breath.

"Whoa," she smiled, "remind me not to doubt you on anything. Ever."

"Not a problem," he grinned, still breathing hard. He stood in front of her, leaning his hand on the tree near her head, and she found herself grabbing his shirt and pulling him closer before she could think twice.

A sucker for him whenever he was sweaty and showing off his strength, not to mention a sucker for him _in general,_ she kissed him and moaned the very minute their lips touched. His free hand went to her hair and pulled her closer, the kiss turning deep and open-mouthed in an instant, and he grinned when her hands slipped into the back pockets of his shorts and tugged his lower half firmly against hers.

"I knew you'd cave," he grinned when he came up for air, and she shot him a glare before pulling him back down for another kiss. He pushed her harder against the tree, and for a few moments, she let him believe that she was going to let this turn into some kind of _something_.

She hit the brakes only once she was satisfied with how hard he felt against her, breaking their kiss and then slipping out of from between him and the tree before he had so much as blinked. She straightened out her clothes, smoothed down her ponytail, then smiled brightly at him as he stared at her in heated confusion.

"Let's go this way and see if it leads down to the lake!" she chirped, grabbing her water bottle and taking a swig before heading back a different way than they had come.

"Are you serious?" he asked, still at the tree, expression dumbfounded.

She glanced down at his shorts and then nodded. "Yup! Hopefully _that's_ not too painful for you."

She then headed off, humming a song that had been stuck in her head all day and smiling to herself. If nothing else, she knew that he was going to get her back for this, and she would _definitely_ pay.

After he rejoined her on the trail, jaw a bit tight and generally a little quieter, they hiked through the trees and eventually found a pathway that led down to the lake. With the gorgeous background the area provided, Summer then dragged her phone out and forced Bucky to smile with her as she took pictures of them standing in front of the lake. As good of a sport as he was, she couldn't help but tease him as she placed the phone back in her pocket, "Feeling better yet?"

He merely half-glared at her and then turned his gaze to the water. "Mostly. Wouldn't mind cooling off, though."

She glanced at the clear, definitely inviting water and nodded in agreement. "Yeah. I should have brought my bathing suit."

She didn't expect him to turn her way, raise an eyebrow and say with a familiar glint in his eye, "Why would you need one of those?"

Summer opened her mouth to answer his obvious question, only to let it hang open dumbly when he took off his shirt and dropped it on the ground. To answer her unspoken question of if he was actually serious, he took off his shoes next, then dropped his shorts and left them on top of his shirt before heading towards the water.

He didn't look back at her until just before he reached the water's edge, but when he did, he looked over his shoulder and _grinned_ at her before causally taking off his underwear, throwing it behind him, and all but diving in.

She only closed her mouth when a bug tried to fly in it.

Still in shock by the time he surfaced for air, pushing his now-soaked hair back on his head, Summer watched him smile at her and call out, "I'd enjoy this more if you got in with me."

Fretting idly, she looked around and then called back, "Yeah, but..."

"Oh, come on," he urged her, swimming closer to the edge that she stood on. "Nobody's around here. It's just you and me. And a bunch of squirrels."

She smiled, but she still wasn't convinced. Besides, the chances of her emerging from that water without losing their little bet when they'd both be naked was incredibly low.

But Bucky had a way of convincing her when it came to just about _anything_. "Please?" he asked with just enough of a pout to make her give in. "For me?"

She rolled her eyes, knowing she was done for the minute the words left his mouth. "Fine."

He grinned in satisfaction, and she again swept the area with her eyes to double check that they were indeed alone before even kicking off her shoes. Once she was satisfied in their seclusion, she blew out a deep breath and took off her shirt. As she pulled it over her head, he gave a low whistle, and she decided that she was going to kill him for this.

Once she was down to her bra and underwear, she hesitated and then asked, "Can't I just get in like this?"

"You _could_," he replied, leisurely floating and watching her like a hawk. "But then I'd just rip it all off the minute you got in here anyway."

Not doubting him in the least, she sighed and got the rest of the stripping over with quickly. She would have done it with much more flair if they hadn't been out in the middle of a lake where any hiker could walk by and get an eyeful, but as it was, she hurried and got everything off, then hurried even faster to the water.

Feeling immensely better once she was in the lake and covered by the water, the first thing she did upon getting close enough was splash Bucky in the face. "That's for playing dirty."

He laughed her off and wiped at his eyes. "Playing dirty? And what do you call what you did to me in front of the tree?"

She shrugged innocently, leaning backwards to float on her back and move away from him. "Light teasing?"

"Light teasing?" He asked in disbelief. Then his eyes narrowed and he grinned, "I'll show you _light teasing._"

Then he disappeared under the water, and she screeched and tried to swim away. He caught her though, and a small war ensued.

Summer was sure she'd never felt so lighthearted and _silly_ in all her life. It was like a scene out of a movie that she never thought happened in real life, where two people played and fought in the water, splashing and pushing and dragging and laughing until their lungs hurt. For Summer, it was even more amazing simply because even after all this time, she still wasn't used to him laughing so freely. It was a sound she'd never take for granted or grow sick of, even when it was the last thing she heard before he dunked her head underwater.

The best part of it all was how, at the end of the rather long mock battle, they ended up in each other's arms laughing in between hasty little kisses that didn't hesitate to become longer and deeper. He kept them afloat as she clung to him, breathless and happy and completely not thinking about their "bet" one bit.

They were kissing and still giggling a little when he moved them to shallower water, his disguised left arm wrapping around her waist and lifting her up a bit higher on him. She broke away for a breath and looked down at him, smiling stupidly and running her fingers through his short wet hair, and his mirroring smile at her made her heart melt. Just like his laugh, she would never take for granted seeing him happy and carefree like this. This level of carefree wasn't something she got to see very often, and she would treasure it while she had it.

She leaned down and kissed him again, moaning breathlessly when he pulled her tighter against him, pressing her chest hard against the very top of his own, and it no longer mattered to her that that they were _technically_ in public and that _technically_ anybody could happen by at any minute. It had _never_ mattered to Bucky, who was as eager as she was and was soon nipping at her neck as his hand slipped between them and discreetly went to work slowly teasing her into a frenzy.

Just when he had managed to make her entirely forget about where they were and move shamelessly in sync with his hand, not quite _there_ but getting ever closer, he stopped. _Stopped_, abruptly and out of nowhere, and when her eyes popped open to stare down at him in confusion, he merely grinned and said, "I hope that's not too painful for you."

He then disentangled from her arms and swam away, grinning all the while and throughly enjoying paying back tenfold what she had dealt.

She took back what she said earlier. _Now_ she was going to kill him.

* * *

After being endlessly amused at how Summer pretended to be mad at him the whole way home, Bucky realized that she was actually adorable when she was pissed off. He didn't regret a thing, and when they were back home and she started clanking around the kitchen with her still-wet hair dangling to her waist, trying to ignore him, he couldn't resist the urge to be annoying as hell.

"Why so tense?" He asked playfully, sneaking up on her as she tossed a frying pan on the stovetop. His hands massaged her shoulders after she jumped in surprise, and then she sighed in irritation before trying to brush him off.

"Still not talking to you," she insisted, doing her very best to ignore him and drizzling olive oil in the pan as he wrapped his arms around her waist and nuzzled her neck from behind.

"You're cute when you're mad," he grinned, kissing her neck once before she whipped around and glared at him, brandishing a wooden spoon. He raised an eyebrow at it and asked, "What are you gonna do with that? Spank me with it?"

She was all ready to retort until she realized what he'd said, at which point her annoyed expression gave way to a giggle and a smile that she just couldn't keep off of her face. "Shut up! I'm trying to be mad at you, you jerk!"

"You started it," he pointed out innocently, playing with the damp ends of her hair with one hand while the other rested on her waist. "And you can end it."

"So can you," she pointed out. Then her eyes dropped down and flashed back up. "And I can get you, um... _up_... just as fast as you can make me...uh..."

As she searched for a word that wouldn't make her cringe, he took the initiative and leaned in close and let his warm breath wash over her ear as he guessed, "... Make you _completely fucking soaking wet_?"

She groaned and pushed him away, pointing the spoon back at his face. "Yes. That. Now stop."

"Just me saying that almost does it for you, doesn't it?" he asked, unfazed by the spoon or the fake little scowl on her face.

"Same as how me taking off my bra or... licking a popsicle would do the same to you," she replied, pushing him again. "Now go away so I can cook, or else you can starve."

He held up his hands in surrender. "Yes ma'am."

She narrowed her eyes at him as he walked away, keeping her eye on him, but he decided to give her a break for now. They were both hungry, but after dinner... he'd get back to trying to get her to crack.

And oh, she would crack. He just knew it.

* * *

Setting down her second - third? - glass of wine, Summer dissolved into giggles over something that really wasn't _that_ funny but seemed absolutely hysterical at the moment. The sauce that she'd made for dinner had required a cup of wine for an ingredient, and after having found the wine cellar and having a cow over it, she'd picked out a bottle of Merlot that ended up being one of the best she'd ever had. As a result, she was tipsy and well on her way to drunk, and she blamed the man sitting across from her.

"No, no, no more!" She insisted when he went to refill her glass for the fourth time, waving her arms for emphasis. "Why are you getting me drunk? I'll totally bang you sober, you don't have to do this."

He chuckled and topped off her glass anyway, and despite her protests, she immediately started guzzling it. It was _really_ good. "I know, but I love you tipsy."

She rolled her eyes and set her glass down, pushing her empty plate to the side next to Bucky's. "I wish I could see _you_ tipsy. Stupid serum."

He nodded. "Stupid serum. Though it does have its benefits."

She blinked a few times, her fingers and even her toes tingly from the wine. "You mean like the built-in Viagra? Actually, I'm pretty sure even Viagra can't do all of _that_. What even _is_ your limit before you literally _can't_ anymore?"

He shrugged, sipping his own wine. "Maybe we'll find out one day."

She widened her eyes comically. "That will be the day I'll need surgery to have my spine re-attached."

He laughed quietly, and she laughed with him, though considerably harder even though, once again, she was pretty sure it wasn't _that_ funny. But that was fine. She felt great and she was having a lot of fun with her buzz.

She leaned back in her chair, closing her eyes after Bucky had gotten up to take their dishes to the sink. All this time later, and he still did the dishes after she cooked. Hazily, she noted that his mother raised him well, and then she giggled to herself for no apparent reason. Then she opened her eyes, looked at her half-full wine glass and decided that she had most definitely had enough alcohol for the night.

She grabbed the glass and stood up, waiting a moment for the room to stop spinning, and then she marched towards the sink. Along the way, she tripped over her own feet and splashed herself with half the wine left in the glass, and with a wail of defeat, she set the glass down on the nearest counter and pulled her shirt off.

Luckily, it was one of her fairly cheaper, plainer shirts, which was why she'd worn it hiking in the first place, but now it was ruined. After she took it off and had it in her hands, she muttered about stains and bleach and "may as well just throw it out" as Bucky watched from the sink in great amusement.

He turned off the water and dropped the sponge into the sink, then walked the short distance to his wife before plucking the shirt out of her hands and setting it aside. "I think you're right. You've had enough."

She rolled her eyes, then sighed as she looked at him and paused. He was still in his own plain hiking clothes, and she wondered how he could make such simple articles of clothing look so good. His hair was a mess from drying haphazardly but it looked just right somehow, and before she knew it she was closing the distance between them and, to his further amusement, sliding her hand under his shirt.

"Why are you so perfect?" she asked in an almost whiny tone, mindlessly groping his chest and laying her head on his shoulder. "It makes not having sex with you really hard..."

He smiled, closing his eyes when she started kissing on his neck. "Then you should give in and have sex with me."

She shook her head, ceasing her kisses to look up at him and reply, "No. I'm winning this."

"Are you?" he asked, and she nodded heavily in reply.

"Yup. In fact..." She pulled her hand out of his shirt and reached both of her hands behind her back, undoing her bra and then letting it fall to the floor after pulling it off of herself. "You're gonna give in _really_ soon."

She then pulled him down and kissed him furiously, tasting like the red wine, and he groaned when she took his right hand and placed it on one of her now-bare breasts. He gave it a gentle squeeze and she moaned, pulling her lips away and saying breathily, "_Come on_. I'm dying here."

"Then give in," he grinned, leaning down and kissing her until she twisted away and shook her head.

"No, dammit," she whined again, though she let him push her against the counter behind them. He ducked his head down, and she closed her eyes at his mouth worked her breast with expert skill. "I can _so_ do this."

He peeked up at her, breaking away long enough to reply, "Or you could give in... let me make it worth your while."

Her fingers in his hair, she reluctantly pulled his head away and shook her head again. "Nope. I'm not cracking."

"Well, fuck," Bucky said, eyes dragging up from her breasts to her eyes. "You keep this up, Summer, and I'm gonna have to give _myself_ a hand."

"Only if you let me watch," she replied without thinking, and as soon as she spoke it, something in the air changed between them. For a moment, they stared at each other as if to determine if the other was serious, and when it became clear that they each were, Summer swallowed dryly and watched a _filthy_ grin spread across his face.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" he asked, already knowing the answer. Her face was absolutely _aflame_, and his finger brushed her burning cheek as he went on, "All you had to do was ask, sweetheart. You want a show, I'll give you one."

Her mouth fell open but nothing came out, and his thumb teased her lower lip before he took a step back, then another, and one more after that. He was halfway to the staircase when she suddenly realized what was happening and that she was supposed to follow him.

She scrambled to go after him, but first she stopped at the table and gulped down some more wine straight from the bottle. If this night was headed where she thought it might be, she wasn't drunk enough quite yet.

After nearly falling up the stairs twice, Summer finally made it to their bedroom and burst inside, holding an arm over her chest to keep from certain things bouncing to the point of nearly smacking into her face. Her wide eyes fell on Bucky standing only a few yards away from her, discarding his shirt to the floor, and when he saw that she had come after all, he walked to her and kissed her until she was breathless.

Pressed chest to chest, she was barely aware of how he quietly rid them both of the rest of their clothes until she felt something pressing insistently against her hip. She broke away then, glancing down and realizing they were both naked, and then he was kissing her again and leading her to the bed.

He pushed her down to the middle of the bed with a faint growl, crawling on top of her and resuming the kiss with a new fury. His hands were everywhere and so were hers, and she almost forgot about what they were doing until he broke away panting and looking into her eyes.

He looked very serious all of a sudden. "Can I admit something to you?"

Confused even without being drunk, she nodded. "Yeah, of course."

"I never planned on telling you this, but... I think maybe I should."

She blinked rapidly, nodding again. "Okay."

He then shifted to his side, lying next to her, and she shifted to do the same, so that they faced one another. His right hand sliding up her side, over her hip and down to her upper thigh, he began quietly, "I couldn't always... do this. Back when I was still first remembering. When I lived with you, then Steve."

"You mean..."

He nodded. "I didn't think about it. I didn't think about anything like that until we kissed the first time."

She desperately hoped she'd remember this conversation in the morning. Now playing with her hair draped over her shoulder, he went on, "I started to feel things again after that. But slowly. Really slowly. And it wasn't until I left you that I started to have a... problem."

"A problem?" she asked, hanging on his every word.

He nodded, the corners of his lips turning up as if he was amused with himself. His eyes watched his fingers twirl her strands of hair as he explained, "Most nights I had nightmares. I couldn't sleep more than a couple hours. But some nights I'd dream of something different and I'd wake up and..."

Her eyes didn't leave his as his hand trailed down to her breast, and he continued to watch himself touch her as he spoke again. "I dreamed of you one night. It was vivid. We were in a bed... your bed, I think... and I was taking off your clothes. I woke up in the middle of it and I was..." He paused, swallowing at the memory, and Summer was enthralled at this story. "I was so _hard_ it hurt. I tried to ignore it, but I couldn't. I needed..."

She nodded, unthinkingly muttering, "_Yeah_."

His eyes flickered up to hers, hand sliding along her stomach now. "So I thought of you. And it was hard to let go. It was _really_ hard. But I thought of how it felt when you kissed me and when you let me touch you, and I..."

Summer gulped, unsure if she was supposed to be as turned on by this as she was. The struggle that he was describing was horrible and something that he never should have had to go through, that _nobody_ should have ever had to endure, but the mere thought that she had unknowingly had a hand in helping him jump that hurdle...

His hand slid lower, between her thighs and making her gasp and arch with the sudden and unexpected contact. His mouth was a mere breath from hers as he said just above a rough whisper, "I _let go_. And it felt so fucking good, Summer, I needed it so bad..."

She whimpered at his words, grateful for when he kissed her and gave her a break she spent trying to process it all. She'd had no idea, none at all, and she hadn't even known that his attraction to her had run that deeply back then. The handful of kisses and innocent touches they'd shared must have left _quite_ the impression on him back then.

She would have asked if this had become a regular occurrence for him back then, but his now-slick hand leaving her and their kiss ending distracted her. She opened her eyes and looked into his before they closed, and she _knew_ that look suddenly on his face. The rough exhale that left his lips was the confirmation, and she looked down and felt her entire body tense and fire erupt in her veins at what she saw.

He had mentioned offhandedly to her only about a week ago that he preferred to take his time with these matters, even just with himself. He hadn't been kidding. He started incredibly slowly, almost teasing himself, and Summer felt zero shame in staring and committing each languid movement to memory. After all, he'd called this a _show_, and who was she to question that?

She tore her eyes away only when she felt his metal hand grasp the back of her hair and lead her back down for a kiss. She could tell by the way that his body rocked slightly that he had quickened his movements as she kissed him, and when he moaned into her mouth, she broke away and stared down at him in awe. She should have asked him for this ages ago because this was _amazing_.

She did little things here and there to help him along, kissing his lips, his neck, his chest, running her hands along his body and watching with an ever-hotter burning fire within her. He noticed this, and after one particularly heated kiss, she drew away and he whispered, "Touch yourself."

She couldn't help but freeze the minute the words left his mouth. It was one thing to watch him, but... _oh God she couldn't do this_.

He saw the uncertainty and mild panic in her eyes. "Please," he whispered again, kissing her again. "_Please, _baby_. _Show me."

She wanted to whine and hide her face, maybe scuttle under the bed and die of embarrassment, but all she had to do was look in his eyes and see the searing heat there to regain some of her bravery. The only thing that could ever outweigh her cowardice with something like this was her love for this man and her willingness to do _anything_ he ever asked of her.

She glanced down and realized he had slowed down again. He was waiting for her. _Oh hell_.

Swallowing her fear and nerves as best she could, she kissed him and tried to remember the last time she'd actually done this. It had been _forever,_ not on purpose but due to a lack of necessity. But she still remembered the routine perfectly, even through the haze of being half-drunk and incredibly blown away by this night.

Taking advantage of the kiss and Bucky's closed eyes, Summer took her hand off of his chest and slowly, almost reluctantly, placed it on her own breast. She almost instantly put it back and declared that she couldn't do this after all, but Bucky broke the kiss and opened his eyes, freezing her to the spot. His gaze flew to her hand, and before she could overthink it, she gave her own breast a soft squeeze and flicked her thumb over little peak. She watched his eyes grow even darker, and just from the sight of that one touch, he started moving his own hand quicker again.

His reactions were the only thing that kept her going. In the end, she was incredibly grateful that she did.

Eventually, watching him touch himself and feeling the teasing things her own hand was doing became too much to bear. She gave in fully, sliding her hand all the way down and accidentally letting out a moan that she meant to keep inside. His gaze grew even more intense and so did his own touch, and then he kissed her with a passion that made her head spin even more than it already was.

He cursed in between kisses, both of them stealing looks at the other and driving each other closer to the edge without touching except to kiss or tug a free handful of hair. Summer found it much easier to let go once she simply _did it_, and when they ended up sharing the same rhythm and still managing to be in sync even with this, it was a sweet surprise in the midst of mind-boggling, possibly life-altering heat.

She was caught off guard when he suddenly growled and pushed her on her back, then got on top of her with his left arm bracing himself next to her head. For a split second she expected him to take her and end this much different than it had began, but instead, his hand kept moving a now near-frantic pace, and so did hers. He kissed her hard, she moaned into his mouth, and they moved together and apart at the same time. She knew he was close when his fist beside her head clenched the sheets tightly, and watching him thrust into his own hand and shake and groan with the pleasure of it was more than enough to send her spiraling first.

She was as loud as she always was for him, covered in a full-body blush and trembling beneath him as she came apart, and her cry of his name along with her free hand scratching her long nails down his back was all he needed to lose himself right with her. He gasped first, then groaned unevenly and dropped his face into her neck, riding it out and then half-collapsing on top of her when it was all over.

Summer held him close, stroking her hand through his hair and coming back down to earth herself, halfway unable to believe that she had actually just _done_ that. She had surprised herself a lot over the last year and especially the last week, but this... _wow_. She never would have suspected that she was even capable.

Eventually, after a long, hazy time had passed by, Bucky raised his head and kissed her softly before giving her a sweet smile. She smiled back, still stroking his hair and _still_ blushing even though it was over now.

"I love you so much," he said, still wearing that dreamy smile. Her smile grew twice its size at his unexpected words.

"I love you more," she teased, grinning.

He shook his head, and just before he kissed her again, he murmured, "Impossible."

Eventually, they disentangled long enough to take a now-very needed shower and get ready for bed, and through it all, Summer stayed in her hazy, awestruck state. She had thought before that they couldn't possibly become more intimate than they already were, but she had been wrong.

Her honeymoon week had changed her life, and it wasn't even over yet, and her life, it seemed, was only just beginning.


	41. Chapter 41

**A/N: Note is at the top again this week because, well, I don't really know lol. But ANYWAY. Thank you guys so much for your feedback on last week's gigantic honeymoon chapter lol. I'm glad that most you were happy with it, but there was a few who voiced a bit of dismay of the way that I've written Bucky lately. One of the reviewers I was able to PM and explain my reasons for writing him as I do, but since the other was anon, I figured I'd just give a brief(ish) reply here. This is the review: "I liked the first story that you made and I like this one too but ever since they started to have sex. Bucky has become like a bloody sex addict! I don't like the way you have made him into some guy who just wants sex all the time, even though he has been through a lot, he shouldn't use sex to escape the horrors of it...I mean I like all the characters and you portray them great even Bucky but when it comes to sex, he just wants it a little too much all the time. -_- I'd actually like to see a chapter were they don't have sex in." First, before I say anything, I would like to thank you, anon, for not being a jerk and not flaming me lol, and just expressing your opinions in a non-douchey way. There really aren't enough people who know how to do that, so I appreciate that, and the honesty. Honesty is good! Lol. And just to explain myself a bit - yes, I can see how to some, Bucky (in this story) could be a bit over-enthusiastic about sex lol, and it could get a bit old to read. I get that. However, for a man who has experienced a horrifying amount of pain and torture in his life, I don't think sex is just sex for him. It's more than that. It's a piece of his humanity and it took him quite a bit to get to the point where he could do ANYTHING physical with Summer without freaking out, and he definitely doesn't take it for granted the way other men would. So not only do I see it as therapeutic in a very real way, but there's also the fact that he's very much in love with a woman and is in a healthy relationship with her, and she's JUST as enthusiastic about sex as he is lol. It's just the way that I perceive them and always have, since I started writing this story. Some couples have more restraint, and well, in my mind, they don't lol. Also, they literally did just get married, and honeymoons are pretty much supposed to be chock full of banging. It was also their first time being a house all to themselves and being truly alone, so there were a lot of reasons why I felt it appropriate to write a gigantic chapter of like 70% sexytimes lol. BUT, I do feel the need to point out that there have been plenty of chapters where they don't have sex, like the ones where Summer was recovering from her accident and a good amount of others. Including this following one lol. So anyway, that's what I have to say about that, and I do hope that any readers turned off by the last chapter keep reading, because it was definitely a one time deal lol. **

**On that note, I am quite happy to now shut up and give you all this chapter :D I think you're all going to like it, and I look forward to your feedback (good or bad! Lol). Thanks and love to you all, and to midnightwings96 as well, as always :D Woo for getting back to Monday updates! Lol :)**

On the flight back home from her rather exciting honeymoon week, Summer was nearly buzzing with anticipation. She checked the time constantly, tapping her foot on the floor of the plane, stubborn smile stuck to her face as she got more and more excited the closer they got to being home.

She had _loved_ their week away, and it had been utterly perfect and beyond her wildest dreams for what a honeymoon could be, but she had reached her limit of how far she could be away from her son and she couldn't _wait_ to grab him and squeeze him to death. She had actually _cried_ that morning after having received a few pictures from Steve of the shenanigans David had gotten up to in her absence, and today nothing sounded better than being home with her little family and taking it easy before she had to get back to work the very next day.

"And here I thought you wouldn't want to leave," Bucky remarked, grinning at her as she checked her phone's clock for the roughly thousandth time.

She smiled back and said, "Well, me too, but I just miss David so much."

He nodded. "Yeah. Me too."

"It feels like it's been a month since I've seen him," she sighed. "The longest I'd ever been away from him before was like a day. I hope he didn't have a growth spurt or something while we were gone and now he's like five inches taller."

Bucky chuckled and patted her hand reassuringly. "I doubt that. Just relax. We'll be home soon."

She smiled happily at him and dropped her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. "What a week this was."

He grinned and slipped his arm around her shoulders. "Yeah... it was, uh... some week."

"Do you think we peaked with the honeymoon and it's all downhill from here?" she asked, eyes popping open. "Like now we're gonna get home and we'll be one of those couples who are lucky to have sex once a week, because we're used to each other and we're boring now?"

The fact that Bucky laughed at her like she had just said the single most ridiculous thing imaginable instantly let his feelings on the matter be known. He shifted them so that he was looking down at her as he replied, "One thing I know is you'll never be is boring. Not having sex is the last thing you ever need to be worried about."

"Yeah, you say that now, but we're newlyweds. We won't always be newlyweds. And then if I end up having more kids and get fat..."

Bucky rolled his eyes and tugged her closer. "Hush, Summer. Just... stop. You _know_ you're worrying for nothing."

She shrugged. "Yeah. But it's what I do."

"Well, then for now, stop doing what you do," he suggested. "And just be happy."

For _him_ of all people to tell her that, she knew she needed to shut up and make her mind follow suit for once. It wasn't too hard to do, not anymore. After all, she was _married_ to this man now, and that meant a _lot_.

They touched down in New York early in the afternoon, and they made it off of the plane and out of their gate without incident. It was on their way to pick up their luggage that they spotted a short, dark haired familiar woman and a shorter, equally dark haired little boy next to her, and Summer's excitement was born anew as she started waving exuberantly.

Darcy was the least recognizable and therefore best choice to come and pick them up from an airport as enormous and bustling as JFK, and she smiled and waved happily as David took off in a sprint towards his parents. Summer smiled so wide it hurt and opened her arms as he came closer, and just as she braced for impact and prepared to squeeze the very life out of him... he ran right past her and went to Bucky first instead.

Utterly gobsmacked, Summer turned and watched David all but clobber Bucky in a huge hug that made Bucky light up like a Christmas tree, all while Summer stood with her arms still out, as if unable to believe what she was seeing. Then she turned to Darcy and said, "I've been betrayed. My son is a traitor."

Darcy shrugged, gesturing to Bucky. "I mean, I hate to say it, but you can't really compete with that."

Summer tilted her head, unable to argue with this logic, and then she almost fell over when David attacked her next. She quickly got over her half-hearted offense and leaned down to hug him back, then started gushing. "I missed you so much! Look at you! Did you have fun while we were gone?"

Nodding furiously, David began machine gun-signing to both Bucky and Summer, beaming and doing the equivalent of telling them all of his adventures in one enormous run-on sentence. It was hard to follow him, but Summer did her best. "You... flew around... Manhattan? Ate an entire cake... no, _two_ entire cakes... and... shot... a _gun_?!"

She immediately looked up at Darcy, who held up her hands and said, "Hey, don't look at me. That kid bounced back and forth between everybody all week. One day he would be stalking Wanda and the next he'd be glued at the hip with Tony."

"Tony?" Summer repeated, face paling. "Oh God..."

"I don't think it was an actual gun. I heard Tony say something about some new prototype that he was testing and -"

Summer held up her hand and shook her head. "Just... you know what, I don't want to know. I don't want to know. Let's just go home and nobody tell me _anything_ about all the creepy dangerous things David did all week."

With that, David continued beaming happily and grabbed each of their free hands as Darcy led the way to the car waiting outside. Halfway there, Summer glanced down at Bucky and David's joined hands, then shook her head and smiled as she told Bucky quietly, "I can't believe he went to you first."

His answering smile was genuine, warming her from the inside out as he replied honestly, "I can't either."

She couldn't even pretend to be unhappy about the semi-snub. In reality, it made her ridiculously happy to see a bond of that caliber being formed between her son and his adoptive father. It was all she had ever wanted for David and far more than she had ever thought they'd be lucky enough to get.

After piling in the car, David silently regaled them with more tales of his adventures the whole way home, and he didn't stop even when they'd arrived at the tower and were on their way up on the elevator. He took to acting out the scenes, zooming around the enclosed space with his hands out to mimic flying, and Summer was chuckling at his antics when the doors opened and she found herself back home.

And it truly was home, because the first thing she saw was Steve and Tony bickering near the kitchen over something, while Natasha and Pepper sat nearby and sighed. But once Summer stepped off the elevator, both women instantly perked up and smiled as Darcy announced, "The newlyweds are back! Get the bottles of bleach ready!"

Summer rolled her eyes but grinned excitedly as she left her bag with Bucky and then dashed off towards the people she had missed a great deal over the last week. Natasha was the first to get up and give her a hug, which Summer would never get sick of considering how their relationship had begun, and then Steve was next, incredibly happy to see them back and wearing a very knowing expression as he greeted them both.

Summer smiled as Steve gave Bucky a one-armed hug, at which point Tony piped up and asked her, "So, is my house still standing? Is it a biohazard? Do I need to call the CDC to have it properly cleaned?"

"Yes, it's still standing," she sighed. "And no. No CDC necessary."

Pepper sighed right along with her and shook her head. "He wouldn't be Tony if he didn't ask."

Summer nodded, and then Tony shrugged and said, "Next time I go there, I'm taking a giant black light with me. Just to make sure. I trust my cleaning crews but..."

"Okay, that's enough," Pepper smiled sweetly before turning back to Summer. "So, have you had lunch?"

"No, actually," Summer replied.

"Good," Natasha answered, "because we're taking you out and you're going to tell us all about your week away."

"... I am?" Summer asked, eyes a bit wide. She glanced at Bucky, who only shrugged as Natasha grabbed her hand and began dragging her out the door, all of ten minutes after she'd walked in. "But... David..."

David merely smiled and waved goodbye to her, stuck happily at Bucky's side, and Summer narrowed her eyes playfully at the boy as Pepper and Nat steered her towards the elevator.

"I'll be right behind you guys," Darcy called as Summer was hustled into the elevator. "I'll go grab Wanda."

"Is this like a bachelorette party reunion?" Summer asked, smiling and shrugging at Bucky just before the doors closed.

"That's exactly what it is," Natasha replied.

"But without the random male strippers this time, right?"

"Considering it's three in the afternoon," Pepper smiled, "I think you're safe."

"Phew," Summer sighed with relief. Still, one could never be too sure. As far as she was concerned, Thor's human dancer counterpart could be hiding _anywhere_.

* * *

As the girls made their way to lunch, Bucky sat at the kitchen table with Steve and and Sam, David still glued to his side and drawing a picture with intense concentration next to him. Steve glanced at David and said, "I'd ask how the honeymoon went, but... little ears, so..."

"It went... very well," Bucky nodded, trying to keep his face impassive, but the way that Steve grinned at him told him that he looked as stupid as he felt inside. The _good_ kind of stupid. "Very... nice."

Sam glanced at Bucky, then Steve, then back to Bucky. "I'm just gonna come right out and ask it. How pregnant _is_ she?"

Bucky grinned and stifled a laugh at that particular question. "Probably not, but..."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "Uh huh, sure."

After a brief pause, Steve fidgeted in his seat slightly before asked, "How, um... how did the... surprise... she planned for you turn out?"

Bucky paused and stared at Steve in mild confusion. "You knew about that?"

"I _walked in_ on that," Steve said with wide eyes, like the image was forever emblazoned on his memory, for better or worse.

"Walked in on what?" Sam asked.

"I... little ears," Steve gestured helplessly towards David, who was oblivious but still very present.

Not missing a beat, Bucky switched to French and asked, "What did you walk in on?"

Steve's eyes lit up in sudden realization, as if he had forgotten that they shared a language other than English. Following suit, Steve replied, "I walked in on Summer... _practicing_ on Natasha."

Bucky's eyes widened and he leaned in slightly closer. "You saw Summer dancing on her?"

Steve nodded, face heating up in an instant slight blush. "In lingerie and everything."

Bucky stared at his friend in slight jealousy. Not that he was complaining, but why couldn't _he_ have been the one to catch a glimpse of that?

"She jumped off as soon as I walked in, and I don't know who was more embarrassed, me or her," Steve went on, cringing at the memory. "Then Nat made me sit down and demonstrated part of the... uh... lap dance on me."

Bucky furrowed his brows. "... The beginning of the story was better."

Steve nodded. "Then Tony walked in."

Meanwhile, Sam sat there listening to the two men converse in what may as well have been jibberish, as lost as David was to what they were saying. He waved his hand and said, "Can't you all switch to Spanish? I know some Spanish."

Switching back to English for a moment, Steve replied, "I haven't learned Spanish yet."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Well, what the hell, man. What was the surprise?"

When neither man seemed willing to even drop a hint in front of David, Sam sighed, stood up and leaned across the table, then slapped his hands over David's ears and raised his eyebrows. "I'm waiting."

"Natasha taught Summer a burlesque dance to surprise him with on their wedding night," Steve whispered hastily, just to be extra safe.

Sam's eyebrows shot up his head and he pulled his hands away, sitting back down in his seat as he grinned. "Oh _really_?"

Bucky only had a minute to grin faintly before Steve switched back to French and asked, "So, how did it go?"

His mind drifting back to that dance... that perfect, amazing, beautiful dance... Bucky's grin widened as he shook his head slightly and said, "I'll just start from the beginning."

* * *

"Just start from the beginning," Natasha suggested, sipping a cocktail and sitting next to Summer at their little table on the patio of a restaurant not far from the tower.

Summer eyed her own drink, not really wanting it because it was early and her appetite for alcohol was all but gone following her wine binge from only two nights earlier. Then she glanced at the others, Pepper, Darcy and Wanda, all sitting there and waiting for her to get on with the story of how her dance turned out, and she smiled before shrugging, "It, um... well, it went _very_ well. Like a little too well."

"How exactly does a stripper dance - sorry, _burlesque_ dance - go too well?" Darcy asked, already over halfway down with her own drink.

"Um, well... so... okay," Summer sighed, trying to figure out how to tell the story without being _too_ detailed. "So I... uh... I turned on the record and sat him down, and... got... started... oh, and he had the room like filled with rose petals and candles, so that was a nice little... extra touch, and..."

"... Yes?" Natasha grinned, egging her on.

"... And I pulled it off pretty well," Summer admitted. "No mess-ups. It went just like when we practiced, except better."

"Was he dying?" Darcy asked.

"Oh yeah," Summer grinned. "F-bombs everywhere. I think first he was in shock, and then when he got over that, he was just... yeah."

"Just yeah?" Pepper repeated, amused.

"He got... really into it," Summer recalled, staring off into space for a moment as she relived those perfect few moments of her life. "Like, he got so into it that in the end, after the lap dancing and stuff, when I got back on his lap and kissed him as the song ended, he kinda..."

All four women at her table leaned in closer just barely, and Darcy asked, "Kinda _what_?"

"Um..." Rather than force herself to say the words, Summer mimed a gun with her hand and then pretended to shoot it into the air. "Boom."

Pepper leaned back with a sudden, "Oh my... _God_."

"Oh hell yeah," Darcy laughed, downing the rest of her drink.

Wanda said nothing, expression caught between mild intrigue and the horror of just not really wanting to imagine her friends in such a scenario. She drank her own cocktail with wide eyes as Natasha smiled warmly at Summer and said, "You should be proud of yourself. You couldn't have asked for a better... outcome."

"Oh I know," Summer replied, face aflame. "I couldn't believe it. I kind of still can't. Because you remember what we practiced, and the lap dance didn't last _that_ long. I wasn't _trying_ to make him do that... but I guess he just..." she shrugged and giggled, blushing like an idiot.

"Well, damn," Darcy said, "when I get married someday, I want to learn how to do that. That's hot. Does he usually have... you know... trigger-happy issues?"

Wanda choked on her drink, and Summer smiled before replying, "Not since the very first time we slept together. He's got pretty good control and... you know... stamina..."

"So what happened afterwards?" Natasha asked casually.

Summer's blush deepened, and she muttered, "Um, well, we talked for like... two minutes, and then..."

"And then _what_?" Darcy asked, clearly greedy for more details.

"He... basically... killed me, over and over and over and... _over_..."

"As he should have," Natasha replied approvingly.

In the midst of this, Wanda couldn't help but ask, "Is this... common for weddings here?"

"Not really," Darcy replied helpfully. "I mean, all the banging, yeah. But the dancing, not so much. Besides, you have to keep in mind, Wanda, they're not humans. They are bunnies who _look_ like humans."

Wanda glanced at Summer and laughed quietly, and Summer covered her face with her hand. "Oh my God."

* * *

"_Oh my God_."

Still conversing in French, Bucky couldn't help but laugh at the bewildered look on Steve's rather red face. Telling him things that made him blush and squirm would never, ever get old, because his reactions would never cease to be hilarious.

Meanwhile, Sam was glaring at them both. "This isn't fair. I want to know why Cap's as red as the stripes on the flag."

Ignoring Sam for now, Steve recovered enough to say, "Nat's... danced for me before, but I've never..."

Bucky shrugged, grin permanently fixed to his face. "Well, it had been a few weeks since we'd done anything. Not that it mattered. I still would have lost it."

Steve gulped quietly. "That's... wow."

"Perfect way to start the honeymoon," Bucky grinned, the memory of her dance definitely high on his list of favorites. If he thought about it too long, however, he'd have a problem soon, so he tried to keep the conversation moving. "The whole week was incredible."

"... Seems kinda like the first night would be hard to live up to," Steve noted.

Bucky shrugged again. "We made it work."

Steve wrestled with the dilemma of wanting to know but also kind of not wanting to know before he asked anyway. "What did you all... _do_ the whole week?"

... Where to even start?

* * *

"First we did it in the bed," Summer said, recalling the first day. "Actually, the whole first day was in the bed. But then after that, there was the couch... the tub, the shower... the table, the counters, the stairs... the floor... uh... oh, the balcony. The um... hot tub... rental car... the lake..."

She glanced slightly nervously at Pepper, who was unfazed. "We knew what we were getting into when we offered you the house. It's fine."

Summer nodded, and then Natasha asked lightly, "Did you find my present in your suitcase?"

Eyes widening and blush returning, Summer replied, "Um, _yes_. Some warning would have been nice, you know."

Natasha grinned. "That would have ruined the surprise."

"You got me -" she halted before she blurted out something embarrassing. She then lowered her tone to a whisper and hissed, "You got me things that go places where things shouldn't go!"

"I wanted to be thorough," Natasha shrugged innocently. "I thought you might be feeling adventurous and want to try new things, that's all."

"I don't think I'll ever want to try _those_ kinds of new things," Summer muttered. "I had a heart attack when I dumped out that bag."

Natasha laughed surprisingly heartily at that, then said, "Well, I'm sure you found a use for _some_ of it."

Summer nodded and sighed. "Well, the... passion fruit flavored... stuff... was interesting."

* * *

"Passion... fruit?" Steve repeated, still in French, slight bewilderment now a permanent fixture on his flushed face.

Bucky nodded. "It was... tingly."

Steve blew out a deep breath, processing everything he'd been told in the last few minutes. Then Bucky waited for Steve to take a drink of the water bottle sitting in front of him, at which point he casually asked, "Ever role played before?"

When Steve choked immediately, Bucky laughed and Sam slammed his hand on the table and muttered, "You both suck."

* * *

"So basically, I acted like this sweet innocent girl and he acted like... well, he was kinda... himself, but a soldier, and we acted like strangers and it was... hot."

Darcy glanced at Wanda and said, "I hope you're taking notes."

"Notes?" Wanda repeated, and Darcy nodded.

"Yeah, for when you start dating, because I totally plan on trying some of this stuff with Sam later."

"Tony tried the roleplaying thing with me one time, but he was drunk and it didn't really work," Pepper recalled. "He pretended to my secretary. It was okay until he fell off my desk. He needed four stitches in his forehead. But you didn't hear that from me."

Summer stared at her boss and replied, "You know, I can totally picture that."

Pepper nodded. "He tried to just get up and keep going, but then he got blood on my nice white skirt and I wasn't happy."

Darcy then looked at Wanda and said, "_That's_ not going in my notes."

"I've always wanted to act out something where Steve is my student," Natasha said thoughtfully, swirling her drink in its glass. "Which he basically _was_ at first, but now that he's confident and _very_ good at what he does..."

She trailed off when she noticed Summer staring at her silently, but with increasingly pink cheeks. It took her a moment to blink, shake it off, and then say, "Oh my God, I just pictured that like way too well. Like I went full teacher-student with an apple on the desk and everything."

Natasha chuckled and shrugged. "I might have to do that one of these days."

Darcy bumped Wanda's shoulder. "Hey, you could totally do a Star Trek thing. Androids, half-Vulcans who are basically robots. It's perfect."

"_What_?" Wanda asked, utterly lost on both what Star Trek was and who she was supposed to play such a role with.

Darcy sighed. "Never mind."

Summer then smiled at each lady at her table and said, "Well, this has been fun."

"It has," Pepper agreed. "Oh, and I'm sorry for Tony's _other_ gift."

"What other gift?" Summer asked in confusion.

"It's in your room," Pepper shrugged. "It wasn't my idea. Although I'm sure it'll come in handy from time to time."

Summer was suddenly intrigued. What the heck would she find when she got home?

* * *

Bucky and Steve continued their top-secret talk into the late afternoon, discussing both the sweet and the scandalous aspects of the honeymoon and everything in between, all while Sam gave them the stink-eye and David didn't budge from the table the entire time. They didn't stop until the elevator dinging alerted them to the return of their women.

Summer and Natasha left the elevator first, laughing amongst themselves and stealing the attention of Bucky and Steve the minute they came into view. Summer was _still_ blushing after what Bucky was sure had been an interesting conversation over lunch, and when David saw that she had come back, he got up and excitedly showed her the picture he'd been working on in her absence.

Bucky had been watching David as he'd drawn the picture, so he fully expected the way that Summer took it in her hands and then lit up with glee. "Oh wow! This is really good! And it's so sweet! Thank you, David!"

After hugging the happy little boy, she took the picture to the refrigerator and stuck it right on the middle of the door. It was a picture of the three of them at the wedding, not quite stick figures anymore but pretty close, and it was adorable. Summer came bounding towards Bucky then, leaning down and kissing him lightly before glancing at Steve and asking them both, "Have fun while I was gone?"

"It's always fun making Steve's head explode," Bucky shrugged. "How about you?"

"Oh, I, uh... yeah, fun," she smiled, and Bucky could only imagine how the girls had wrung all the details of the last week out of her over their little late lunch. "I'll be right back, I need to check my room for something."

He nodded, kissing her when she leaned down to give him one more peck before heading off towards the hallway, David trailing behind her. As she left, Steve smiled at her and then looked away, shaking his head slightly and blinking.

"You okay?" Bucky asked him, thoroughly amused.

"I will be once I get the images out of my head that you put there," Steve smiled with false sincerity.

Sam merely shook his head. "I'll get Darcy to tell me everything, since you guys won't fill me in."

"Sam," Steve sighed, "I'm not sure I _could_ repeat some of the things he told me even if I wanted to."

Sam merely gave him a look and then got up from the table, calling after Darcy with impressive determination in his voice. Bucky glanced at Steve, who seemed to contemplate something for a moment before he asked _very_ quietly, "Wasn't it weird? The very last thing you told me? Where you... while she watched and..."

Bucky shook his head. "Nope. Honestly nothing has ever felt weird with her, at all. We're always on the same page and it just... works. Works perfect."

Steve nodded, smile returning as he replied, "Well, on a more serious note, I couldn't be happier for you. I'm glad everything went great. You deserve it."

He might still disagree with that statement for the most part, but Bucky chose to accept it for the time being. "Thanks."

Steve smiled, nodded and then made to stand up. "Okay. I'm going to go try and forget most of what you just told me, otherwise I don't know how long it will be until I can look your wife in the eye again."

Bucky laughed quietly, watching his friend walk off and then looking around the tower as he found himself alone for the moment.

He really was happy to be back. In fact, he was simply _happy_, very much so, in general.

* * *

Summer found Tony's "present" sitting in her room, at the floor near the foot of her bed and wrapped in Cupid-print wrapping paper. Eyeing the somewhat large box warily, she glanced at David and asked, "Wanna help me open it?"

He nodded happily, and then they sat down on the floor and got started on unwrapping the mysterious gift. Considering how efficient of a wrapping-paper-ripper David was, it took them less than a second to get it all off and find the nondescript box it had been masking. Taking a breath, she then tore off the tape holding it shut, and once the top flaps were free, she pulled them open and they both peered inside.

David immediately tilted his head in confusion. Summer took one look at the contents and sighed heavily.

"That bastard," she muttered, though with a smile. Then she quickly amended with a glance at David, "I mean, that jerk."

Tony Stark had given her a box containing approximately two hundred early response pregnancy tests. She plucked one out of the box and shook her head, grinning as she read the labels declaring the tests 99.9% accurate and recommended by the most doctors, laughing to herself.

"Well then, at least now I'm set for life when it comes to pregnancy tests," she observed, tossing the test back into the box.

But she doubted she would need them any time soon. She took the box into the bathroom and shoved it under the sink, and forgot about it entirely within the next two days.

* * *

Their first night home, and each one thereafter, David went to bed with an enormous smile on his face thanks to having both of his parents there to read him to sleep. They made sure to make it a nightly routine, regardless of how tired or busy either of them were, and they all three settled back in to life as usual with ease. Summer and Bucky each went back to work, and life went on much as it always had, with a few marked differences.

Summer got to get used to introducing herself to new contacts as _Summer Barnes_, and Bucky would at times drift off in his head as he stared at his wedding band, hardly able to believe that he really was married now. Summer got a huge thrill out of the technically mundane process of getting a new driver's license and social security card, reflecting the new name, and when David's own new social security card came, it made him just as happy to see his name in official print as it did her.

In short, everything was pretty close to perfect and felt incredibly _right_. And yet, despite all of that, only one week after arriving home, Summer found herself utterly exhausted and asleep face-first on her desk late in the afternoon.

She had slept right past the end of her shift when her phone rang next to her head and made her shoot up with a squeal, grabbing the phone and answering it with a bewildered, "Hello?"

"You off yet?" Bucky asked on the other end.

Scrutinizing the clock on her desk, Summer squinted and then nodded, "Yeah, yeah, I am, I just... fell asleep."

"... Fell asleep? In your office?"

"Yeah, it's weird, I don't know," she shrugged. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, you just got a couple new letters in the mail and I thought you'd want to come open them."

She groaned. "I've already gotten four rejection letters this week. And a few emails. You may as well open them and save me the angst."

"You don't know that it's rejections," he pointed out. "Get out of your office and get home before I come get you myself."

"Ooh, feeling bossy today?" she teased, getting up and getting her things together in preparation to leave.

"Maybe. What's for dinner?"

She groaned again, grabbing her purse and heading for the door. "I don't know. I don't feel like making anything."

His silence betrayed his shock at such a concept. "You... _what_?"

"I'm just _really_ tired," she explained, strolling out of her office and into the hallway. "I must not have slept enough last night."

"You slept for eleven hours," he pointed out. "You fell asleep at nine."

She frowned, making her way to the elevator and then shrugging, "Well, whatever. Then I went too light on the coffee today. But I'll be down there in like two minutes, so I'll see you then."

"Bye, kitten," he replied playfully, and she grinned at the pet name before hanging up and stepping inside the elevator. She then sighed and leaned against the wall, closing her eyes. She really _was_ tired.

Once she got to the floor she resided on, she stepped out and immediately took off her heels as she headed towards Bucky near the kitchen. David was sitting at the table with a snack and his tablet, deeply embroiled in some game or another. Bucky greeted her with a soft kiss and a grin that she would never get sick of, and then he handed over the letters with a quiet, "Good luck."

She rolled her eyes at him and tore into the first envelope. "We already know what it's gonna say. No use in getting hopeful now."

Bucky gave her a look, but just as she predicted, the first letter was indeed a rejection, as was the second. Steve and Natasha and a handful of others had ended up streaming into the living room as she had opened the letters, none of them paying her much mind as she tossed the papers into the trash.

"And now for strike number three," Summer said, opening the third and final envelope as Bucky watched with his arms crossed. She gave him a look that dared him to express more optimism, and he didn't say a word as she pulled out the letter and scanned over the first paragraph.

She froze, then narrowed her eyes and reread the paragraph from the beginning. After reading the entire letter and feeling her heart drop into her stomach, she read it again, then again, and just to be sure she wasn't hallucinating, _again_.

"What's it say?" Bucky asked, watching her expression go from stunned to disbelieving to simply and utterly pale and shocked.

She leaned back against the counter, suddenly feeling woozy as she said, "They... they actually liked my book. They're interested. They want to meet me and sign me and _oh my God_!"

She looked up from the letter and watched Bucky's face light up with a huge smile. "Are you serious?"

"Yes!" she exclaimed, hands shaking as she shoved the letter towards him. "Read it! Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God..."

As she continued chanting, she began pacing and trying to remember how to breathe. She had been so prepared and ready for rejections that she had never really stopped to think what she would do if a publisher showed real interest, and now that one was, she had no idea what to even _do_.

"This is great, Summer," Bucky grinned after reading the letter. "I'm proud of you. I told you it would happen."

"What happened?" Steve asked, wandering their way and eyeing the letter with interest.

Bucky handed Steve the letter and then smiled proudly, "My girl's getting published."

"Really?" Steve smiled brightly, taking the letter and reading it for himself. Natasha headed over next to see what all the fuss was about, and the more smiles and hugs and words of congratulations that she got, the closer Summer got to hyperventilating.

"This is actually happening," she smiled, hands still shaking and heart pounding after Natasha had given her a hug. "Oh my God, it's actually happening."

"Excited?" Steve grinned, patting her shoulder.

She nodded furiously. "Yeah. Yup. Actually I'm so excited I think I might throw up."

Everybody laughed, but her own smile faded slightly with a sudden turn of her stomach that did _not_ feel like pleasant flutters.

"Oh God. I'm gonna actually throw up."

Everybody then paused and stared as she slapped a hand over her mouth and ran for the nearest bathroom. Steve and Natasha both immediately glanced at Bucky as she ran off, but he merely shrugged at their inquisitive looks.

"Does she always do that when she's excited?" Natasha asked, a knowing but subtle glint in her eye.

"Not really," Bucky replied, folding up the letter and carefully placing it back into its envelope. "I'll go check on her."

Meanwhile, as Summer struggled to throw up the rather meager contents of her stomach, her excitement for the letter still didn't wane, even as she continued to heave long after there was anything left to come up. Once _that_ lovely time passed, she sat back on her heels and leaned against the bathroom wall, unsurprised when she heard the door open and then felt a hand on her shoulder.

Bucky sat next to her on the floor, smiling sympathetically as he asked, "Are you okay?"

"Peachy, now," she sighed, trembling from both the excitement and the sudden sickness. "I don't even know what that was. I feel fine now, though."

"Good. Here," he muttered quietly, getting up and getting her a cup of water from the sink, and when he returned, she gratefully took the cup as well as the hand he offered to help her to her feet.

After sipping the water and then brushing her teeth, she turned off the sink and then took a deep breath before turning around and smiling hugely at her husband. "I'm gonna get published."

"Yes you are. Are you sure you're okay?"

"I feel perfectly fine now," she assured him, grinning even wider. "I'm gonna get _published_!"

She then squealed and jumped into his arms, and he laughed at her sudden exuberance and burst of energy following her odd initial reaction to the news.

"And to think," she grinned when he set her down on her feet, "this is all happening because of my drunken ramblings plus my idea to write you a story for your birthday."

"You should get drunk and write me dirty stories more often," he joked, leaning down and kissing her chastely as she giggled.

After stealing a few more moments together, they walked back into the kitchen are and Summer made a beeline for her purse, excitedly digging through it to find her phone. Once she had it, she texted Paul, who was working and couldn't answer a personal call at the moment.

_GUESS WHO'S GETTING THEIR BOOK PUBLISHED_, she text-yelled, sitting in her seat and bouncing in it as she read over the letter yet again, as if its content might have changed while she'd been hurling.

His answer came within less than a minute. _ARE YOU SERIOUS BECAUSE IF YOU'RE JOKING I WILL KILL YOU_.

She grinned and rapidly replied, _I AM TOTALLY SERIOUS ITS HAPPENING AKSKSDKDKKDKDDKD!111!1_

In the midst of the jubilant and mildly incoherent texting, David wandered over to her to see what all the fuss was about, so she held up the letter for him to see and explained, "Mama's gonna be a real author now! You know how I write stuff on the computer, and I worked really hard this last year on a book?" He nodded, and she smiled, "Well, a company wants to print my book and sell it to people in stores!"

His eyes widened, and she squealed all over again and gave him a hug as her spirits continued to soar. She still couldn't believe that this was real and it was happening, after so long of thinking she'd never get around to actually doing anything substantial with what she considered to be her primary talent, and yet, here she was.

First the wedding, then the honeymoon, and now _this_. How could it possibly get any better?

* * *

Summer had the following day off. Despite again sleeping well beyond her usual seven or eight hours, she dragged herself out of bed tired and ready to crawl back in to sleep some more, forcing herself to get up and get some work done. She spent half an hour dealing with work emails, then another half an hour with emails to her potential new publisher as they discussed the details of their offer. Her excitement was still at ridiculously high levels, and they stayed that way after she closed her laptop and headed into the kitchen to make breakfast while her boys still slept.

Natasha and Sam were already up and moving about the kitchen by the time Summer made her way there, and she excitedly shared more details of the book situation as she mindlessly began the process of making pancakes. She'd memorized the recipe everybody liked best ages ago, so it was all routine as she mixed the ingredients and then got started cooking.

"I'm hoping they won't want to edit the book too much," Summer said, flipping the first few pancakes as Nat stood nearby with her coffee. "I mean, I know they'll edit it some and they'll have their opinions, but... just as long as they leave the major points alone, I'm fine with that."

Natasha nodded. "I wouldn't worry too much right now. Just see how it goes and if you need help negotiating, I can give you tips on how to be _persuasive_."

Summer gave her a cautious look. "Tips on being persuasive from the Black Widow. Should I be scared?"

"Maybe," Natasha grinned, sipping her coffee.

"Watch out there," Sam interjected, walking past them with a plate in hand and some kind of omelet on it. "Pretty sure most of her tips are illegal."

"Well, I'll figure it out," Summer grinned, then froze when the scent of something _horrible_ hit her nose. It came directly from Sam's plate, and it took her a minute to figure out what it was.

It was mushrooms. And typically, she was a fan of mushrooms, at least in certain cases. But in that moment, for some reason, they smelled like the absolute worst scent that she had ever had the displeasure of sniffing in her entire life.

She went pale so fast that Natasha noticed, lowering her cup of coffee as she asked with sudden concern, "Are you okay?"

"Uh..." Sweating suddenly, shaking, and mouth watering as the dreaded mushroom smell wreaked pure havoc on her stomach, Summer paused mid-pancake-flip and gripped the counter for support as everything started to spin.

"Summer," Natasha repeated, louder this time.

"I'm fine," she insisted, though deep down, she knew that she was _not_ fine. "I just... uh..."

But Natasha was no fool, and she didn't hesitate before asking, "When was your last period?"

Summer whipped her head around and stared at the other woman as Sam paused halfway to the table, turned around and then said, "Oh God, I know what that means."

"I don't... I mean, I'd have to look at my phone, but I'm not... oh God." Summer shoved the spatula at Natasha, leaving her in charge of the pancakes as she ran off for the second time in less than twenty four hours to throw up. On her way to her bathroom, she smacked into Bucky, who had been wandering out of his room half-asleep, then shoved him out the way as she hurried to make it to the bathroom in time.

"Summer?" he asked, squinting and blinking as she ran away. The sound of her slamming the bathroom door shut and promptly throwing up quite loudly made his eyes widen in sudden concern and confusion.

Summer couldn't decide what was more confusing; _why_ she was puking, or why it felt strangely almost _good_ to be puking. The act itself was painful and gross, of course, but the second she was done, she immediately felt better, just as she had the day before, and she hadn't felt anything like that since... _well, _over six years ago.

Bucky came into the bathroom to check on her after she flushed the toilet, then dragged herself off the floor to brush her teeth for the second time in an hour. She glanced at his reflection in the mirror as he walked in and closed the door behind him, and she sighed as she rinsed out her mouth and then flipped off the water. "I'm okay."

"Are you?" he asked, eyeing her skeptically. "You don't look okay."

Her eyes darted to her own reflection, and she couldn't disagree. She was as pale as a ghost, and that was not a look she was used to seeing on herself. Recalling Natasha's question, she pulled her phone out from her pocket and clicked on an app that she hadn't looked at in about a month.

The minute she opened up her nifty little period-tracker and saw the words _you are two days overdue!_ all cheerfully spelled out over the mildly obnoxious background of pink flowers, she became even paler and realized that she was actually in some potential trouble.

"What?" Bucky asked, expression growing more and more concerned the paler and freaked out-looking she became. "Summer, _what_?"

"Um... hold on," she said, checking the app's calendar for the last month. While it wasn't 100% accurate, the app listed her "fertile days" between each cycle, and just to be thorough, she checked which days her last ones had fallen on. She then started laughing, because her very last "fertile day" had been none other than her wedding day, and she had been too busy and distracted the whole month to see this until now.

"Summer, if you don't tell me what's going on-"

"I might be pregnant," she blurted out, locking her phone and setting it on the bathroom counter. She then watched his face as it shifted from concerned and confused to a little more wide-eyed and understanding but instantly stunned.

"Oh," he said quietly.

"Yeah."

They stood there staring at each other for a moment, her chewing her lip and him personifying a deer in headlights, neither saying a word. But then she remembered her lifetime supply of pregnancy tests under the sink thanks to Tony Stark, so she looked away and quickly ducked down, throwing open the cabinet door and pulling out the box as Bucky stood there and watched in a stupor.

After opening the box, retrieving one of the many tests in there and straightening up to face Bucky again, he asked her with wide eyes, "Why do you have so many of those?"

"Gag gift from Tony," she shrugged, opening the little pink box and pulling out an individually wrapped test. "Though I guess it's coming in handy, right?"

She smiled uneasily, and Bucky swallowed, staring at the test like it held his very fate in his hands, and Summer was suddenly overcome with worry that if the test came out positive, he wouldn't react well to it. After all, this was _very_ fast, and though they already had a kid, a baby would be a brand new experience filled with all new challenges that they hadn't faced yet. Of course, they had agreed to stop using birth control prior to the wedding, but...

"Are you... mad?" she asked, voice sounding vaguely like that of a mouse.

"No," he shook his head quickly, to her relief. "No, I'm not mad. I'm just... surprised. This is really..."

"Fast, I know," she nodded. "Well, let me take the test. Could just be the flu for all I know."

He nodded, but he didn't budge from where he was standing or take his eyes off of her. She looked around awkwardly, then muttered, "Are you gonna turn around, or..."

Snapping out of it, he nodded and turned around, staring at the door while she sighed and got down to business, still in shock that this could be happening so soon. If she actually did get pregnant on their wedding night, it meant that Bucky had knocked her up the very first time they'd slept together with her fully off the shot. And that was just _ridiculous_. Apparently, lightning sometimes did strike twice.

The first time she had ever taken a pregnancy test, it had been while she was very much alone, and she had cried herself to sleep after it came out positive. This time, there was a distinct flutter of excitement and anticipation as she took the test, replaced the cap on it, and then set it down on the counter to wait for the three minutes it took to yield a result.

"You can turn around now," she said once she was done and her still-shaking hands were washed, some water thrown on her face for good measure. Bucky turned around, looked at her and then the test, and she slid to the floor to sit with her back to the sink cabinet as she explained, "We'll find out in three minutes."

He nodded and silently sat next to her, staring ahead just as she was.

It was the second-longest three minutes of her life.

* * *

Bucky's mind was racing. It couldn't happen _this_ fast, could it?

They had talked about this before, and he had even his own fertility checked out by a doctor in the last few months, so it wasn't as if the possibility a baby had never crossed his mind before. He'd just thought they would have longer before they'd have to think about this. Maybe a few months, or six, or... a few years, even. Two weeks following the wedding seemed a bit fast.

In the midst of his brain going a mile a minute, he felt Summer's hand gently reach to hold one of his. He looked at her, and in her eyes he saw many things - fear, anxiety, happiness, excitement - but most of all, he saw love. She had so much of it within her, not just in her heart but in her very being, and he could picture her showering that love on a little baby so vividly and clearly that it made his own heart feel a bit warmer.

But it wouldn't be just any little baby. It would be _their_ baby, _his_ baby, a brand new little person that would change their lives forever. A son, a daughter, a brother or sister to David. A little bundle of both joy and nearly paralyzing fear because he had no idea what to _do_ with a baby. It had taken him long enough to figure out what to do with a five or six year old - what if he was awful at it and the baby hated him?

"Bucky?" she asked quietly, her eyes wide as she looked at him. He realized that he must have looked at utterly terrified as he felt.

"How much longer?"

She checked her phone. "Minute and a half."

He nodded. "Are we ready for this?"

Her answer was surprisingly calm. "We're way more prepared than I was with David."

He nodded again, then furrowed his brows and rephrased the question. "Am _I_ ready for this?"

Her eyes softened instantly, and she held his hand a bit tighter. "Well... I mean, nobody ever really is. That just seems to be the way it is. But you learn as you go. I did."

"But you're different," he muttered, looking away and staring at the floor. "You're..."

"... I'm what?" she smiled. "I was a kid. I had no idea what I was doing and I had nobody there to help me. But you're not alone. You've got me and we'll figure it out, if I actually am pregnant."

Bucky shook his head, still staring forward. "I don't even have two arms to hold a baby."

"Yes you do," she replied quietly. "A baby isn't gonna care that one's made of metal."

"It will if I accidentally hurt it," he muttered.

"You've never hurt me," she reminded him. "Or David. You can play the piano with that hand and do other... delicate... things with it. I trust your control over it. And I don't think that's _really_ what you're worried about."

She knew him too well. He looked at her a bit helplessly, silent for a moment until he asked, "What kind of life is a baby going to have with me as its father?"

"A happy one, just like David has," she replied without missing a beat. "It's gonna be just like what you have with him. Only this time, you get to be there from the very beginning."

He still had his worries, and he knew he always would. There were voices in his head that liked to pipe up and get louder in moments like these, ones where he was on the cusp of having something amazing, and they were _screaming_ at him now. But nothing quieted those old voices faster than the words of the woman sitting next to him, and her ever-stubborn faith in him. It was easy to believe that her words could be true when she believed so fully and wholeheartedly that they already were.

She smiled at him and then checked her phone. "Oh. It's actually been five minutes."

They both scrambled up to look at the test so quickly that it made them both dizzy. They peered down at the innocent-looking stick to get their answer, and once he saw it for himself, Bucky felt a small smile start to bloom on his face despite the still-present fear within.

He couldn't believe it.

* * *

"Oh my God, I'm actually pregnant," Summer gasped, swaying on her feet the minute she saw the two pink lines on the test. The second one wasn't even lighter than the first, which she knew was usually the case with such tests - no, both lines were bright and thick and may as well have been exclaiming in giant neon lights, _congratulations, you got knocked up by a super soldier with expert-sniper-level aim! You're not just pregnant, you are super-pregnant! _

Bucky held her to keep her from falling over, and when she broke out into near-hysterical giggles, he turned her around and pulled her into a tight hug against his chest. His fingers running through her hair, she laughed until she cried, and then laughed even more when she realized he was laughing too.

And to think she'd ever been worried for his fertility, or thought briefly that they might have trouble conceiving. Clearly, that worry was entirely unfounded.

When the laughter ran its course and she pulled away a bit, wiping her eyes and looking up at Bucky and all but melting when she saw the genuine happiness in his own slightly-shiny eyes, Summer finally got to experience what it was like to have what she had missed out on the first time around. Not only was she not alone this time, but getting pregnant had been her _choice_, and the man who had gotten her pregnant was no loser who would be running for the hills any time soon.

This was what it was supposed to feel like, and she treasured that happy, excited, exhilarating feeling all the more for having experienced the very opposite in the past.

"Do you realize what this means?" she asked him, voice wobbly for how teary she still was. He shook his head, and she grinned, "It means I got pregnant on our wedding night."

He laughed, and it made her laugh even more herself. "That's ridiculous."

"I know!" she exclaimed happily. "Everybody's gonna make fun of us so bad!"

"I don't care," he grinned before kissing her, and she savored every last bit of the sweet moment before a knock on the door interrupted them.

It wasn't just any knock. It's was David's signature knock, which meant that he was awake and likely highly annoyed that his bathroom was locked. Summer grinned excitedly and hurried to the door, unlocking it and then throwing it open before all but squeaking, "David, guess what?"

The boy blinked up at her, clad in pajamas and quite sleepy still, having no idea of the news that she was about to unload on him.

"I'm pregnant!" she announced. When he merely stared at her blankly, she rephrased, "We're having a baby! You're gonna have a brother or sister!"

His big brown eyes widened with realization, and he looked at Bucky as if to confirm this information. Then, once he decided that he believed this, he had only one question to ask.

Summer watched him sign the question, and she smiled and replied, "Well, we won't know if it's a boy or girl for a few more months."

David looked quite unimpressed with that answer. Then he stepped a bit closer, eyeing Summer's suspiciously flat stomach, and then he questioningly mimed a big belly. She nodded and said, "Yup, I'm gonna get big and fat. Just like I did with you."

He snickered cutely at that, and then she pulled him into a hug that was as tight as she could manage with her currently non-existent strength. After that came a sweet, quiet little family moment that she found to be the perfect end to a longer moment that had already been perfect. Even though she felt like crap and knew now that she was going to feel like crap for the foreseeable future, the happiness that was palpable between all three of them made every future challenge more than worth it.

Now they just had to spread the news.

All three of them headed back towards the kitchen together, smiling and _very_ visibly happy and not even trying to hide a thing, and Natasha was the first to notice them when they appeared. Summer smiled stupidly and watched Natasha give her _that_ look, the one that was amused and scrutinizing all at once, and then she grinned at Summer in a way that said she already knew exactly what was going on but that she'd humor her anyway.

"You look like you have news," she said, handing Summer a plateful of twice as many pancakes as she'd normally eat. Summer stared in confusion before she got it - _eating for two_.

"News? Who has news?" Steve asked, oblivious as ever, grabbing the giant bottle of syrup from the kitchen counter.

Summer glanced at Bucky and then opened her mouth to excitedly give her answer, but David beat her to it. He ran up to Steve, mimed the big belly thing again, pretended to cradle a baby in his arms, then pointed back at his parents with a big toothy grin. Steve stared at him carefully for moment, then looked up at the couple and raised his eyebrows with a growing smile.

"I'm pretty sure I know what he's trying to tell me, but just in case..."

Summer grinned at his response and then exclaimed uncontrollably loudly, "I'm pregnant!"

She then shoved her pancakes at Bucky and catapulted herself at Steve, giving him a sudden and excited hug that made him laugh and reply, "Wow, that was fast!"

"I know!" she squealed as she pulled away. "I thought it would take like, at least a _month_!"

Steve laughed again and then let her go to turn to Bucky, who was watching with a smile that was as nervous as it was genuinely happy. Steve raised an eyebrow and asked, "You okay there, pal?"

Bucky nodded. "I might throw up next, but yeah, I'm good."

Steve then chuckled and pulled him into a hug, and Summer smiled brightly at them both as she watched and bounced slightly on her heels.

"Well, congratulations," Steve said, beaming as he pulled away and patted Bucky's shoulder. "And I've gotta say, I always knew your aim was good, but _this_ is just ridiculous."

Bucky laughed at the little joke, and Summer blushed slightly, knowing how very true that was. Then, the next thing she knew, Darcy was barreling in from the hallway and announcing, "Okay, I heard you squeaking all the way from Sam's room and holy crap how the hell are you already pregnant?!"

"Good aim?" Summer replied with a grin before Darcy pulled her into a hug of her own.

"Yeah I guess so! Snipers don't play around, do they?" Behind them, Bucky rolled his eyes but grinned at that particular remark.

"Guess not!" Summer chirped, and Natasha tapped her shoulder once Darcy let her go.

"You know what a good middle name for a baby girl is?" Nat asked casually. "Natasha."

"You know, I'll think about it," Summer smiled. "Oh man, names! Gah! We need to figure out names! And like a million other things!"

As she continued to happily babble, Bucky gently took her hand and steered her towards the table, sitting her down and gently urging her to eat in between freaking out and flailing with each new person who happened to come into the room and hear the news. One of Summer's highlights of the whole morning was watching David tell Vision with a number of adorable gestures and signs, then watching the very same innocent, wonder-filled expression on David's face appear on that of Vision as he wished her the best of luck with the new life growing within her.

But throughout the morning and the rest of the day, the single best part of it all was being able to look over and see Bucky there at her side, nervous and surely scared inside but still as happy as she was. He looked at her with a quiet, sweet sense of awe in his eyes, and it didn't fade as they slowly grew more used to the news being true. He made sure that she ate and was extra-attentive, even more so than usual, and she just _knew _that everything was going to be okay.

Where her first pregnancy had thrown her into a state of mental chaos and turmoil, her second one only a day in had placed her in a state of anxious but happy peace. Knowing that she and David had turned out just fine and stronger for all of the challenges they'd faced alone, she knew this time around would be no different in that sense.

But she wasn't alone this time, and _that_ would make all the difference in the world. It would also make the copious amounts of barfing in her future totally worth it.


	42. Chapter 42

**A/N: First of all, very very sorry about how late this update is lol. Not only did writing my little random After Class story throw off my usual schedule but I've also been quite busy, so I do apologize, but hopefully things are back on track now :) Thank you guys so much for reading &amp; reviewing (though I must say, anon reviews asking when I'm going to update are so vexing, because I want to answer you guys but I can't! Lol :D), and I plan to aim for the next update being around this Wednesday, so keep an eye out for that. I love you all! :D and thank you to midnightwings96 for being very helpful when I was stuck at various points in this chapter, and for being generally and indispensably awesome :D **

Laying miserably in bed and barely able to lift her head for how utterly crappy she felt, Summer squinted at the book that her husband was helpfully holding above her face for her to read, then shook her head. "Nah."

"Nothing?" He asked, taking the book back and flipping through a few more pages. "We're already to the M's and so far all you liked was _my_ name."

She stuck a plain saltine cracker in her mouth and unenthusiastically crunched it. "Well, because that's easy. If it's a boy, we name him after you. Like _duh_. But if it's a _girl_..." her eyes widened in horror, as if such a fate was truly terrifying. Then she swallowed the mouthful of cracker, gagged, and forced it down with a grimace.

"I liked some of the A names for girls," he said, going back to the start of the enormous baby name book he'd brought home the day before. "And I'm not really sure about the whole... naming a boy after me thing."

She turned her head towards him, just that small motion leaving her nearly exhausted even though she had just woken up half an hour ago. "Why not?"

Bucky glanced at her briefly before fixing his gaze back on the book, shrugging. She sighed and then nudged his leg with her foot. "Come on, just tell me. Don't make me use up all my energy for the whole week kicking you until you talk."

He smiled for just a flash, then shook his head slightly and said quietly, "There's just too much... _bad_ that comes with my name. Doesn't seem fair to put all that on an innocent baby. It's a blank slate, you know? Wouldn't be right."

She frowned, falling silent for a few moments. She understood where he was coming from, but she just didn't feel the same way. "I get that," she said gently, "but, I mean... you didn't even know your name when you were... doing those things. So I don't associate any of that with you or your name. That was all HYDRA."

He looked at her and smiled in both affection and amusement. "I'm glad you see it that way, but the rest of the world wouldn't."

She shrugged, not missing a beat. "The rest of the world wouldn't even know he's your son. If he's a _he_. They'd just think I was either a big World War II buff or maybe just really into mysterious assassins."

He rolled his eyes and smiled more widely. "Yeah, kinda like how you started giggling when I got to the L's and read _Loki_."

"Yeah, now see, _that_ would be a questionable name choice. Naming a baby after a crazy alien who tried to literally take over the earth. Like, regardless of beautiful he was, _that's_ being unfair to the poor kid."

Bucky set the book down for a minute and said, "You know, I saw some of the footage from his attack on Manhattan the other day at work, and I just... I don't get it."

"Don't get what?" Summer asked.

"He looked ridiculous," Bucky replied. "The cape and the helmet... thing."

"Well, I'm not talking about the bug hat," Summer gestured as if to say _duh_. "I'm talking about the face, which was a thing of beauty."

Bucky remained unconvinced. "I don't see it."

"Well, I never said _you_ had to," she shrugged, trying to sit up.

"Forehead was huge," Bucky said, giving her a hand as she struggled to get off of her back. "And greasy hair."

"You know, maybe if you had just a tiny bit of gay in you, _then_ you'd understand, but that's okay," she sighed, finally sitting up and leaning back against the headboard. "Oh man. Just sitting up wore me out. Is it hot in here? Oh my God, it's hot."

"It's... 68 degrees," Bucky replied, having set his room's thermostat specifically to that number for her.

She groaned and kicked the covers off, then started fanning herself with her hands. "It's like a fricking sauna in here."

"I can turn it down more if you really want..."

"Ugh," she groaned, her very _ears_ hot and blazing with the unpleasant heat. "I didn't get like this with David until I was huge. I don't get it." She kept trying to fan herself, but when it didn't do a thing, she finally declared "Oh, fricking screw it," and took off her shirt. It wouldn't have been such a big deal if she'd had a bra on underneath, but as she had just woken up and all of her bras were already suddenly too small, she ended up giving Bucky a show that she was only half aware of.

"Oh, that's better," she sighed, leaning her head back and closing her eyes, still fanning herself with one hand. The back and forth motion of her hand caused a slight _bounce_ to occur, and she was unaware of Bucky's eyes gluing themselves to the sight.

He watched intently, sighing quietly and crossing his arms to keep his hands to himself as she groaned and muttered, "This sucks! I'm so tired and I can barely eat, and yet I've gained seven pounds - which is good, of course, I _want_ to gain weight, but I don't get _how_ I am when I'm throwing up like like five times a day. Everything smells gross, my throat always hurts, I'm never not exhausted, I'm pale as a ghost and I look _awful_, and I get hot flashes like I'm fricking menopausal!"

Inexplicably, she was on the verge of tears by the time she was done with her rant, and when she opened her eyes to look at Bucky and hopefully get some comfort from him, she found him instead merely staring at her significantly larger breasts like it was causing him physical pain to only look and not touch.

This sent her into an instant fury. "_Bucky_!"

His eyes snapped up and he asked innocently, "What?"

"Did you hear a word I just said?"

"_Yes_. I heard every word," he insisted.

"So then why don't you look up _here_ instead of my boobs and actually pay attention to me?" she snapped, voice nearly a whine at this point.

He was at a loss for a moment, both because of how different and extreme she was acting these days thanks to the lovely surge of hormones in her body. Finally he gestured with both hands towards her chest and asked, "Have you _seen_ them lately?"

She groaned and looked down at her oversized breasts in pure despair. "They went up a whole cup size already! It's stupid! I was already huge and now I look like a... like a... stripper or something! All I need are platform heels with strappy things going up to my thighs and a pole and I'm good to go."

"Summer," he chuckled, scooting closer to her, "you're gorgeous. They're amazing."

"No, they look like balloons, and look how dark my nipples are!" she half-exclaimed, and Bucky jumped on the chance to stare again. "They got a _little_ dark with David, but this is just ridiculous. And if anything even barely touches them, it feels like little tiny needles stabbing into me and it _hurts_."

"I know," he replied softly. That was the very reason why his hands hadn't touched those two particular parts of her in about three weeks, since she had first discovered that she was pregnant. It wasn't easy, but he had been very good in curbing his impulses. "But you said that would go away soon, right?"

"It's supposed to, but I have no idea," she shrugged cluelessly. "Everything about this pregnancy is different from the first time. Which I guess is why I agreed to go get poked and prodded at your super secret 'office' today."

He nodded seriously. "We can still not go. I'd understand if you decided against it."

She blew out a breath and considered that option. They were due at the Avengers facility in two hours, which was where Summer had an an appointment with a very high-clearanced doctor. It was a woman with a staggering amount of degrees and expertise in DNA and genetics, and she had also been the one to test Bucky's fertility several months before. Bucky warned Summer that they would see her as a lab rat and would want to run every test imaginable to find out what sort of consequences there might be to carrying the child of a genetically enhanced super soldier. But Summer had eventually decided to go through with the appointment, just in case there really were side effects or complications that the regular midwife she had a separate appointment with the following week wouldn't - and couldn't - know to look for.

"No," she decided once again. "I still think we should go."

"Okay," he replied. "Whatever you want, sweetheart."

She smiled at him, suddenly feeling bad for how she had snapped his head off only a few moments earlier. "I'm sorry I've been such a jerk."

He shrugged her off. "You're fine."

She shook her head and insisted, "No, I suck. You've been so good to me and so patient and here I am, wailing like an idiot and yelling at you for staring at my boobs. But _duh_ you're gonna stare at them, because we haven't had sex since I found out I was pregnant, which is _also_ horrible!"

"It's fine," he chuckled, placing his hand soothingly on top of hers. "I understand. I can wait."

"But you shouldn't have to," she said, feeling her eyes suddenly get watery. "We're newlyweds and we're supposed to be banging like every night. I'm sorry."

He laughed softly and kissed her cheek. "You have nothing to be sorry for. I just want you to feel better."

"Me too," she groaned, eyes heavy again already, after she had slept ten hours. She yawned and then eyed Bucky as his eyes again dropped to her chest, like he simply just couldn't help himself. "... Am I kind of torturing you?"

He nodded, glancing up at her. "Little bit."

"I'm sorry," she blushed, sudden and irrational guilt overcoming her as she decided to just suffer for his sake. "Go ahead, you can touch them."

He shook his head and backed away by a few inches. "No, no. Not when you say it hurts."

"It's fine, I can deal with it. Go ahead," she repeated, but now he was laughing and still having none of it.

"_No_," he grinned. "I can wait a few more weeks or however long until they're back to normal."

She huffed impatiently and then literally took matters into her own hands, physically grabbing his and placing it on her breast before he could protest. He just laughed more when she did it, and she laughed too, though it really did hurt and she had to control the urge to immediately throw his hand back off.

"Go on, have your fun while you've got the chance," she smiled, ignoring how unpleasant it was and focusing on the silly grin on Bucky's face instead.

"I... okay, but... I don't want to hurt you," he said, expression full of conflict as his hand began to play very gently and cautiously. She held back a grimace, and he didn't notice as he marveled, "You don't even fit in my hand anymore."

"I know, it's horrible," she muttered, reaching up to brush a few messy hairs off of his forehead as he continued to admire her.

"It's definitely not horrible," he said a little more lowly, giving her the most gentle squeeze of her life. Then he let go, and she let out a breath of relief just before he met her gaze and then kissed her softly.

Kissing was another thing that didn't come easy these days, mostly because the presence of anything on or near her mouth brought her always-underlying nausea to the surface without fail. They stuck to short, tiny kisses for the most part, but she missed how things had been before, so she pulled him back when he tried to draw away and kissed him again.

It was still soft and sweet, mostly close-mouthed and nothing like the sort of kisses she was used to being spoiled with, but it felt perfect for the minute that she lasted before her stomach began to turn. Her fingers went to his chin and gently pushed him away, and he backed off in an instant, nodding and then exhaling heavily before flopping over on his back while she tried not to throw up. She would have cracked a joke about the honeymoon being _way_ over if she hadn't been terrified to open her mouth.

Bucky took it all in stride, used to it by now, smiling at her when the nausea passed and she let out a deep breath. He was even the one to crack a joke. "Barely a month into marriage and I already make my wife sick when I kiss her."

She burst out laughing immediately, because they both knew that was definitely _not_ the case. He laughed too, and she reached over and put a hand on his chest on top of his shirt as she asked, "Are you, uh... okay?"

He shrugged, placing his hand on top of hers. "I'll be all right. I'm gonna go take a shower."

"Okay," she nodded as he tossed the covers away and moved to get up. "Are you, uh... gonna be awhile because... you know... taking care of... things?"

He grinned at her in amusement before pausing in mock contemplation. Standing up from the bed, doing nothing to hide how deeply a few little touches and completely innocent kisses could get to him these days, he said, "Won't take me long. See, I've got these _really_ vivid memories of this incredibly sexy woman dancing on my lap and wearing next to nothing, and you'd be surprised how fast it makes things happen."

Her eyebrows shot up and she smiled as a blush rose up to cover her otherwise pale cheeks. "Oh. Yeah, that uh... makes sense. Glad I could... help?"

"You always help," he nodded with smirk before heading towards the bathroom. She grinned back until he disappeared from her sight, at which point she grabbed the baby name book and started reading girl's names starting at the M's. She was back asleep before she got to Meredith, book open on her lap and head dropped to the side as she snored lightly.

Being newly pregnant, painfully exhausted, constantly nauseous, and entirely abstaining from caffeine while also working full time wasn't easy. Luckily though, this time around, she at least wasn't alone.

* * *

Two hours later, Summer found herself back at the new Avengers facility for only the second time since it had come into existence. She was just as nervous as she had been the first time, only for very different reasons this time around.

Still feeling like crap and having thrown up on the way there, Summer held Bucky's hand for support as he walked her into the building through the entrance closest to the medical wing. Being mid-morning, the place was buzzing with employees moving about the halls, papers or electronics in hand and only some of them glancing up their way. Most of the ones who took notice looked at Bucky first, then Summer, and then they quickly looked away before making sure to steer clear of blocking their path.

Summer glanced up once at Bucky, giving him a look that he answered with a small grin. "Well," she said, smiling back, "guess there's perks to being married to a big scary Avenger."

Before he could answer, they arrived at a pair of doors labeled for medical personnel only, and Bucky pushed them open and led Summer through them. The next thing she knew, she was in a sparkling white medical center straight out of the future.

Marveling to herself that the place looked like a hospital from Star Trek or something, with all new shiny monitors and a few techs pushing equipment up and down the hall that looked like stuff out of Tony Stark's lab, Summer stared while a young woman in almost disturbingly bright white scrubs strolled out from behind a desk near the entrance and greeted them with a friendly smile. The nurse - assuming that was what she was - led them to a small exam room down the hall and through another set of doors, and Summer was exhausted by the time that she was sitting down on the predictably uncomfortable exam chair.

The room was small and bland and as sterile as the rest of the entire wing. Bucky sat in a small chair next to Summer and watched with hawk-like eyes as the nurse took Summer's vitals and weighed her, taking care of the usual basics for a pregnant woman's initial visit. Summer smiled and answered all of the questions the lady threw at her, none of them out of the ordinary or concerning. Using a pregnancy calculator on a computer in the room, the date of conception was confirmed as being the day of the wedding, which made Summer stifle a giggle and Bucky roll his eyes.

All was well and Summer was incredibly excited to see their baby for the first time, quickly getting halfway undressed and ready and then fidgeting until the nice nurse left and the doctor herself entered the room less than five minutes later.

Tall, dressed smartly in business clothes under a white lab coat, and sporting a short white-gray pixie cut, the relatively older woman breezed into the room with an air of authority that made Summer suddenly remember that she was in the superhero equivalent of the CIA and not an actual doctor's office.

"Agent," the doctor smiled to Bucky first, and Summer still found herself instantly giggly at hearing him addressed as such. Bucky barely acknowledged the doctor, then watched carefully as she approached Summer and smiled again, "You must be Mrs. Barnes."

Summer grinned like the newlywed that she was and shook the doctor's hand when offered. "That would be me."

"I'm Dr. Zaal," she said, grabbing a stool and gracefully sliding it close to Summer's exam chair. "I'm happy to see that you made it in today. How are you feeling?"

"... Not great," Summer shrugged. "But you know... just normal, I guess."

She nodded, glancing down at her chart and reading her vitals. Bucky watched her closely, and Summer got the feeling that he didn't particularly trust the woman. "Yes, quite normal. It says here that you're about eight weeks along?"

Summer nodded. "Yup."

The doctor then scribbled some notes on the paper, underneath things like her heart rate and blood pressure, and she was quiet for so long that Summer began to get concerned. Finally, Dr. Zaal smiled again and looked up with a smile. "Right, so first things first. I'll be giving you an ultrasound today to confirm the date of conception, and getting some blood drawn for a few tests."

"Okay," Summer replied happily, focusing mainly on the word _ultrasound_ and then getting even more excited when the door opened and the nice nurse wheeled in the most high tech ultrasound machine she'd ever seen.

Bucky scooted closer to her and held her hand as she was prepped, lying back in the seat and not even thinking twice about the routine of first-trimester ultrasounds since she had already experienced them once before. But she forgot that Bucky would have no idea to expect a rather long, intimidating looking instrument to be _inserted _in herrather than simply placed outwardly on her belly, and when he realized what was about to happen, Summer glanced at him and found horrified confusion on his face.

"Oh, this is totally normal," she assured him, reaching out and taking his hand. "It's too early to see anything the normal way, so..."

"Oh," he muttered, giving the wand one last wary look before it disappeared under the blanket draped over her knees.

"Ah, I love first time fathers," the doctor chuckled to herself as she clicked a few buttons and brought the monitor to life, ignoring the glare that Bucky shot her.

A few uncomfortable but bearable moments later, everything was in place and Summer smiled excitedly at Bucky as the black and white picture on the screen popped up. He smiled back just as excitedly but much more nervously, and then they turned their eyes to the screen as the doctor began looking for the baby.

She found it faster than Summer had expected. In less than a minute, there was a tiny little shrimp-like shape clear on the screen, with a rapidly fluttering little flash near its middle that Summer recognized right away. Tears immediately sprang to her eyes and her heart filled up with the sort of love and joy that could really only come with seeing one's baby for the first time, just before the sound of its thumping heartbeat filled the room.

"There it is," the doctor said, holding the wand in place and measuring the image as she pointed it out to them. "_Very_ strong heartbeat."

Summer laughed in a way that sounded like a bit of a sob, her free hand covering her mouth as she stared at the image and didn't even try to hold back the instant tears sliding their way down her cheeks. There was simply nothing like seeing and hearing the baby like that, right before her eyes and so _close_ despite how early the pregnancy was, and she wished that she could just stare at the screen forever and not miss a minute of its slow but steady growth over the next eight months.

Then she turned her head and looked at Bucky, intending to gush to him about what they were seeing but falling silent when she saw the quiet, utterly awed look on his face as he stared at the little being that they had created together.

She was suddenly crying even more, and though it seemed impossible, falling in love with him even more deeply than she had been before.

* * *

He hadn't been expecting much. A grainy image that barely resembled anything human maybe, and perhaps not even a heartbeat, since Summer had told him not to be worried if they couldn't find one on this visit. It was early, after all, so his expectations had been low.

But what he was looking at not only resembled a real baby, albeit an unbelievably tiny one, but the sound of its quick little heartbeat was bouncing off the walls of the room and searing itself into his memory. Suddenly, the baby was no longer just an idea, something that was _there_ but really only in theory since he couldn't see it with his own eyes. _Now_ it was real. It was half him and half Summer, and it was the first thing he had ever had a hand in making that he knew was _good_ beyond a shadow of a doubt.

And for those few long, incredible moments, he wasn't terrified or nervous or worried for how all of this was going to turn out or how inept he might be with a helpless infant. Instead, he was stunned and blown away and deeply _happy_ that this new little person was alive and thriving in the womb of its mother.

He looked up at Summer when he felt her staring at him, and the soft, incredibly sweet and teary way that she was looking at him nearly made his eyes watery as well. He squeezed her hand, and the moment couldn't have been more perfect.

Which was why he could have killed Dr. Zaal later for ruining it only moments later with her rather poor bedside manner.

"So, everything looks great," the doctor said as she finished the scan following an exhaustive measuring and examination of the images. She pulled the wand out, which Bucky ignored in order to keep from cringing on Summer's behalf, and then prattled on, "Heartbeat is obviously perfect and it's measuring right on for eight weeks. I see nothing concerning at all."

Bucky watched Summer smile in relief. "Oh yay. So there's nothing weird, or... I don't know, just odd?"

"Nothing that I can see through the ultrasound," the doctor replied, moving the machine out of the way and getting up to change her gloves and clean up. "But that's only the first piece of the puzzle. I need the full picture to give you a more accurate answer."

"Oh, right," Summer replied a bit more soberly. But her smile was stubborn, and she gave Bucky another excited grin as he helped her sit upright again. She opened her mouth to start undoubtedly freaking out about the baby, but then the doctor came back with a tray full of so many empty blood test tubes that it made them both pause and stare.

"Next step is to get some blood," the doctor said, taking the stool once more and setting the tray aside nonchalantly. Summer extended her arm towards Dr. Zaal while staring wide-eyed at the tubes.

"I thought you said you needed a _little_ blood," Summer muttered as the doctor began cleaning and prepping her arm.

"Well, considering the nature of the pregnancy and the unknown factors," Dr. Zaal replied with a slight shrug, "I need more blood than I normally would from a patient."

"Right," Summer replied quietly. "So... exactly what all are you going to test me for?"

"The standard things, of course," she replied, and Bucky watched carefully as she slid the tip of a needle into Summer's vein in her forearm. "And a bit extra. These are only preliminary tests that we're doing today. I'm also going to run a genetic panel that we use to look for certain markers that might indicate disorders like Down's syndrome."

"Oh. I don't necessarily... want that done," Summer replied quietly, and Bucky's eyes shifted from the doctor drawing blood to Summer's face. "I know those aren't always accurate, and it wouldn't make a difference to me anyway if the baby did have a problem."

Dr. Zaal chuckled, and Bucky's eyes narrowed upon her. "That's a lovely sentiment, dear, but this is the child of a man whose DNA was changed with an experimental serum from over seventy years ago. We don't know _what_ effects it might have on a developing fetus. It _might_ be fine. I certainly _hope_ that it will be. But it only takes one chromosomal defect to end a pregnancy, and even less to cause a lifelong genetic disorder."

Bucky and Summer then shared a wordless look, and he ran his thumb over the back of her hand comfortingly as the happy spell was rather quickly broken. But he watched something flicker in Summer's eyes, and he quickly realized what it was when she finally replied to the doctor.

"I get all that," she said, tone quiet but confident. "but it still doesn't make a difference. I have an autistic son - _we_ have an autistic son - and we'll love the baby the same no matter what."

The doctor then looked up and smiled at Summer like she thought she was _cute_, and Bucky's murderous glare returned. Dr. Zaal continued to ignore him. "I'm sure you will. But it would be wise for you to approach this situation _realistically_ as well. These tests are as much for your safety as they are for anything else. Pregnancy can be very dangerous in _normal_ circumstances, so we want to make sure that you're not in danger at any point."

Summer furrowed her brows as the doctor continued filling vial after vial. "Okay, but the serum's designed to put someone at peak health, right? So even with the DNA mutation crap or whatever, wouldn't it be more likely that I'll just have a really strong kid who basically never gets sick?"

"That's what we're hoping for," Dr. Zaal replied.

"Who's _we_?" Summer asked, taking the question right out of Bucky's mouth.

The doctor sighed. "Look, I understand that this must all be very alarming to hear. But to be quite honest, Mrs. Barnes, this is the first pregnancy of its kind. You must have known when you came here that we would want to do extensive testing and studying of the possible side effects of the serum."

"But it's not even the same serum that Steve got," Summer replied. "And you keep saying it like its something creepy and not a serum that literally made my husband stronger and immune to diseases, and able to survive being frozen over and over."

Bucky still wasn't used to hearing her call him that - her _husband_ \- but he didn't have time to dwell on it as the doctor replied, "It was an experiment nonetheless. And given how long ago it occurred and how much further science has advanced since then..."

Bucky opened his mouth, prepared to give the woman a piece of his mind and tell her to stop giving his wife more reasons to worry for their baby than she needed, but he stopped when he felt Summer squeeze his hand softly. He looked at her, and she shook her head at him in a way that told him that she had this under control, and he didn't need to ride in to rescue her. He didn't hesitate to trust her and keep his mouth shut.

"Okay, so tell me what all you want to do," she asked the doctor. "Tell me every test I can expect from now until I have the baby."

Dr. Zaal only paused for a moment before launching into such a long answer that it made Bucky stare with an-ever dropping jaw. Apparently she had already thrown together a schedule consisting entirely of tests, many of which had long names that Bucky didn't understand, but Summer seemed to understand just fine. By the point where the doctor was casually mentioning tests she wanted to run on the baby once it had been born, she was finished drawing blood and Summer looked _furious_.

Holding pressure on her arm where she'd been pricked, Summer took a breath and then said with a determined look in her eyes, "Okay, well... go ahead and run these tests since you've already got my blood, but that's it. I'm not gonna come back for more after this."

Dr. Zaal paused and eyed her in alarm. "But Mrs. Barnes..."

Summer shook her head. "No, you can't talk me into it. I'm not a lab rat, and my baby is definitely not a lab rat. You're not sticking a giant needle in my belly and you're _definitely_ not coming anywhere near my baby when it's born."

Dr. Zaal pursed her lips. "Why don't you just take a minute and think this through? If something _were_ to come back in the tests, you would be able to prepare and consider your options, and -"

Summer sat up straighter, eyebrows shooting up her forehead. Bucky hadn't ever seen her like this with a stranger before. "My _options_? Are you kidding me? No, you know what," she scooted closer to the edge of the chair, "you're exactly what Bucky said you'd be. You don't actually care. You just want to poke and prod the crap out of me and my baby and treat us like a weird experiment. But I'm not stupid and I know those how invasive those tests are that you were talking about, and I'm not risking early labor or losing the baby just so you can fill up your little chart with 'data' on the world's first... super-baby."

The doctor sighed and crossed her arms as Summer got to her feet and grabbed her purse, gesturing to Bucky that they were done. He grinned and followed her lead, quite admiring this display of her fiercely protective side, but the doctor wasn't quite done yet. As Summer got redressed in a hurry and Bucky helped her, the doctor said, "A regular doctor won't be able to monitor you like we can."

"Yeah, well, I'm not seeing a doctor. I've got an appointment with a midwife next week," Summer muttered as she fixed her clothes. Then she cleared her throat and looked at the doctor one more time before glancing at the ultrasound machine and asking, "Can I please have my pictures?"

Dr. Zaal glanced at Bucky, her eyes both amused and annoyed as she grabbed the little roll of ultrasound pictures and handed them over. As Summer took them, she told her, "We'll be in touch with your test results."

"Thanks," Summer muttered before heading out the door first, dragging Bucky behind her. Before he left, he glanced at the doctor and couldn't help but gloat a little and throw a purposefully obnoxious grin her way. It wasn't the first time he'd dealt with her, and he really did despise her.

Once they were back out in the hallway, they didn't stop walking until they'd left the medical wing entirely and were back in the main part of the building. At that point, Summer sighed and slowed her footsteps, closing her eyes and muttering, "_What a bitch_."

Knowing she must really mean it to actually curse rather than use some weird substitute for the word, Bucky turned and looked at her in a way that was nothing short of utterly admiring and awestruck. "You were amazing in there."

Forcing herself to keep walking, she shrugged and nodded, "Yeah, I've been known to tell doctors off before. You should have seen me the time one told me to just ignore David until he leaned how to verbally ask for what he wanted."

Bucky smiled at her, and she smiled back before holding up the pictures in her hand so that they could both look at them again as they walked. He still couldn't believe that it was real, that such a tiny little creature was hiding in Summer's still-small belly, and after seeing with his own eyes how perfect and strong the baby was, he didn't doubt Summer's decision to walk out of Dr. Zaal's office one bit.

"Can you believe this?" she asked him happily, eyes glued to the clearest picture of the baby. "I mean, just _look_ at it! It's a little peanut and it kinda looks a little like an alien but it's just... absolutely perfect."

He laughed quietly, unable to say it any better himself. "It feels real now."

She looked up at him and smiled wider. "Yeah?"

He nodded. "Yeah." He took the pictures from her then, looking at them a bit more closely before smiling, "We _made_ this."

"Oh man, you're gonna make me cry again," she replied in a happy but suddenly shaky voice. Then after they turned a corner, she hurriedly added, "Actually - aw man, never mind. I'm gonna puke."

Looking away from the pictures for now, Bucky looked at her in sudden alarm and then quickly scanned their surroundings. There was no bathroom nearby, but there _was_ a break room two doors up that he quickly steered them to. It was better than nothing.

As she groaned and held her hand over her mouth, he quickly threw the unoccupied room's door open and she took about two steps in before heaving into a trash can by the door. Heaving was all it was, since she didn't have anything in her to actually throw up at that point, and it was as she gagged noisily and groaned miserably that a very important person just happened to come strolling their way down the hall.

Bucky rubbed Summer's back as Nick Fury approached them, clad in his usual intimidating black attire and eyepatch, and he raised a single eyebrow as he greeted cooly, "Barnes."

"Sir," Bucky nodded. Summer then finished her dry heaving fit and straightened up, pushing her hair back and breathing heavily for a few seconds before stepping back into the hallway and immediately freezing in place when she saw who was standing there.

"Oh, uh... hi," she said, voice a bit hoarse and eyes wide. "I was _not_ just puking in your trash can, sir."

Fury raised a single brow over his one good eye, and Bucky smiled before saying, "And this is my wife, Summer."

And _oh_ how proud he was to be able to say that, more and more so every day.

* * *

Of all the potential circumstances in which Summer could have met her husband's one time target turned boss, this was one of the least ideal that she could have imagined.

Shaking to death and feeling woozy and on the verge of another bout of dry heaving, Summer forced a smile on her face as Fury's eye examined her like she was a bug under a microscope. The man was terrifying and exactly what she had imagined him to be after hearing others' stories of him, but she managed to hold it together until, to her surprise, he cracked what was almost a _very_ small grin.

"So this is the woman who let a deadly assassin crash with her and her kid in the middle of nowhere, Virginia," the former SHIELD director observed, and his tone managed to sound both light and judgmental at the same time. "Nice to finally meet you."

"... You too?" she replied, not having meant it to come out sounding like a question.

Fury then glanced at Bucky and asked, "Is there a reason why she's here or is it bring your spouse to work day and nobody told me?"

"We had an appointment with Dr. Zaal," Bucky answered. "Didn't go so well."

"Least surprising thing I've heard all day," Fury replied sarcastically. "What'd you expect?"

Bucky shrugged, and Summer glanced back and forth between the two men before a random idea popped into her head. Suddenly the urge to show off her baby to every living human on the planet took over, and she was shoving the ultrasound pictures at Fury and half-exclaiming, "But we got to see our baby!"

First, Fury stared at her as if she had just shoved a live chicken in his face, but then he turned his eye on the pictures and took them from her anyway. Bucky watched in surprise as the other man carefully looked over the images, then handed them back to Summer with a small grin. "Keep it safe."

"We will," Summer said, taking the pictures back. She expected them to go their separate ways now, but then she saw a familiar face heading their way from the hallway behind Fury, and she smacked Bucky's shoulder as her face split into a huge grin. "Hey, there's Clint!"

She hadn't seen Clint since the wedding, so when he approached them, she sprang forward and thrust the ultrasound pictures in his face before he could get out so much as half a greeting. "Look at our baby!"

"Oh my God," Clint said, widening his eyes and unable to see a thing for how close she was holding the pictures to his face. He backed up a step and then took the pictures from her, first looking at Bucky first and then her. "You look..."

"Like a rat that got run over by a car on the side of the road," she shrugged. "I know."

"I was going to say you're glowing, but..."

"It's okay, you don't have to lie," Summer chuckled. Then she waved at the pictures impatiently and said, "Go on, look!"

Clint examined the first picture, furrowing his brows as he did and then muttering, "I'm not really seeing a baby."

"You're holding it upside down," Fury pointed out with a roll of his eye.

Clint flipped the picture. "Oh. _Oh_. Now I see it. Kind of."

"See you kids later," Fury said drily, sweeping past Summer and Bucky as Clint tried to make sense of what he was looking at. After he was out of earshot, Summer turned to Bucky and asked him something that was suddenly confusing her.

"When he said nice to _finally_ meet you... what did that mean?" she asked.

Bucky shrugged. "You might be a little more famous than you think."

She blinked. "Famous?"

Clint squinted. "Is this the head or the butt?"

"Yeah," Bucky replied, both of them ignoring Clint. "That really shouldn't be surprising. You're a pretty regular part of the whole team's lives. And you have been for two years now."

"Yeah, but... I just figured everybody talked about other things, like... the crapload of actually interesting people and things around here," she shrugged.

"Seriously, what am I looking at?" Clint asked, looking at them both to no avail.

"Well, you're about to get even more famous, so you may as well get used to it," Bucky told Summer with a small smile.

With those words, Summer smiled back and then froze in sudden horror and panic. "Oh God! My meeting with the editor! Frick! I'm gonna be late!"

She then snatched the photos back from Clint and smiled brightly at him before grabbing Bucky's hand and dashing away. "Bye Clint! You should come by for dinner later at the tower!"

Bucky grinned at Clint's bewildered expression and shrugged before letting Summer drag him away. "Yeah, okay. Sure thing. Still don't know what I was looking at, but congrats anyway."

Summer barely heard him, riding on a renewed but short lived burst of energy as she hurried out of the facility as fast as she could. Between the bun in the oven and the book she'd written getting closer seeing print, she had a _lot_ going on and not even close to enough energy to keep up with half of it, but by some miracle, she managed to get through the day and show up on time for her meeting. Even with stopping for a hamburger, eating it, and then throwing it up ten minutes later.

* * *

By six in the evening, Summer was utterly beat and ready to crawl into bed. However, this wasn't possible due to her need to do some serious thinking and also be social with the as-always high number of people around her, including one face she hadn't seen since she had first broken the pregnancy news three weeks before.

Laid out on the couch and staring at her laptop screen in deep thought, Summer reached out and swatted the back of her brother's head as she whined, "You said you would help, but you're not helping me!"

Sitting with David against the couch on the floor and embroiled deep in a Super Smash Brothers war, Paul glanced at her over his shoulder and said, "Yes I am! You asked me if Derp McMoron was a bad pen name, and I said it was."

"Ugh," she groaned, rolling her eyes. "I spent an hour today listening to my editor telling me how important it was to pick a good pen name and then start promoting myself, but I can't do anything until I have a stupid name."

"So just pick something," Paul shrugged, eyes fixed on the TV. "Who picks books based on the author's name?"

"You're missing the point," she muttered. "It needs to be totally different from my name, but at the same time I kinda want it to mean something."

When Paul didn't seem to have much to say to that, Summer asked the third person involved in the video game war for their opinion. "Okay, Wanda, if _you_ were writing a book, what criteria would you use to figure out a fake name for yourself?"

Sitting on David's other side on the floor - the three of them really were a sight - Wanda looked her way for a moment and paused in contemplation. "Well... maybe... something with meaning. Maybe to honor my brother or my parents."

"That's exactly what I'm thinking," Summer replied. "But the question is _what_."

"Make a list of the names in the family," Paul suggested. "Then go from there."

"_Now_ you're being helpful," Summer chided him, pulling up a new document and immediately getting to work. "Okay. Let's see if I can figure something out."

As she typed away, Paul piped up again and asked, "So what kind of promoting does the book people want you to do?"

"Well, they gave me a few ideas, but I think I'm gonna go with doing a blog," Summer replied, pausing for a moment to try to remember all of her grandparents' full names. "I've been thinking about it all day. I can make it a fun one, like not just _ooh, I'm a new author, go buy my book_, but like... something where I can talk about my life and stuff without giving away too many details."

"Well, you do have plenty to talk about," Paul agreed.

"Oh yeah. Like I can put stuff about pregnancy and document that. People eat up 'mommy blogs'. And I can talk about David and all his stuff. Bucky too, but I'll have to give everyone code names and use only very vague details. And then talk about writing and funny stuff in the middle of all of that."

"That's the kind of blog that Sarah would love," Paul said. "She follows a bunch just like that. Go for it."

"I will as soon as I figure out a name," she said, reading over the list of family names that she had compiled. "Which might take me all night."

It didn't take her quite _all_ night, but Bucky did bring her dinner - cooked by Sam, who actually quite enjoyed cooking for enormous amounts of people - and she managed to eat three fourths of it before she settled on at least a partial idea for a name. By then Sam had gotten dragged into the game wars and Bucky was sitting with Summer's feet on his lap at the other end of the couch.

"Okay, so how about the initial thing? Like two initials and a last name?" she asked anyone who would listen.

"Definitely low key," Paul remarked. Then when his character got beat up and killed for the third time in a row by Wanda, he exclaimed, "Oh, come on! How are you this good at this game?!"

She shrugged and grinned before gesturing to the happy little boy sitting between them. "I have been taught by a master."

David giggled in delight while his mother started scrutinizing all of the initials available to her, muttering different combinations out loud. "S. S... oh God, no, Nazis. Never mind. Um... S. B. B.S. Ha! B.S.."

"Those are all God awful," Paul opined, and Summer smacked his head again.

"I know that! I'm not a _total_ idiot. Okay, so what if I use one of my initials for one? Not S because that's too obvious, so I guess E."

"Yeah, _Evelyn_," Paul teased. That time, Summer flicked his ear rather hard, and he squeaked with pain and almost dropped his controller.

"Okay, so E what. E. R... oh my God."

"Another stellar choice," Paul grinned, ducking her hand when it tried to smack him again.

At that point, Natasha walked by the couch behind Summer and asked with genuine curiosity, "What's all the debate about?"

"A decent pen name," Summer replied, turning the laptop so Nat could see the screen. "So far I have exactly one letter."

"Hmm..." Natasha hummed, reading over the list carefully. Summer waited, hoping for something, _anything_, that was helpful, and as usual, Nat wasn't one to disappoint. "You should go with one of the simpler surnames. The longer ones are fine, but you want people to know how to pronounce it."

"Good point," Summer said, scanning over the shorter ones. "So maybe... Carey? That was my dad's mom's last name."

"I think it would be fine," Natasha nodded.

"As long as you don't pick Mariah for a first name," Sam interjected.

Summer chuckled. "Yeah, wasn't planning on it. Thanks, Nat, that actually helps a lot."

"Always happy to help," Natasha smiled before sauntering off, and after that, Summer found it surprisingly easy to string the rest of her pen name together.

She had a piece of her long-departed family with her last name, and a piece of herself with the initial E. It was as she read over David and Bucky's full names that she realized for the first time how incredibly well and completely unintentionally they paralleled each other. David's middle name was Benjamin, making his initials D.B.B. while his adopted father's were J.B.B.. Summer realized then with a small smile that she could have a piece of them both in her pen name without anyone outside of her circle knowing a thing.

She typed the full name first to see how it looked, and when she decided that it looked good, she peeked up at Bucky over the computer and said, "How's E.B. Carey sound?"

He looked at her curiously and matched the sudden grin on her face. "E.B.?"

"Evelyn Bucky?" Paul guessed, giving her a look over his shoulder.

"_No_," she rolled her eyes, still smiling. "But since he and David both have the same middle initial... it's kind of perfect."

"It works," Paul nodded, giving his seal of approval. Summer could tell by the little smile that Bucky gave her that he liked it, too.

"_Awesome_," she said, raising her fist a few inches in triumph. "Okay. Now that I've got that squared away, I can start figuring out how to get a blog going. But first I need to get up and pee."

"Thanks for the announcement," Paul said as Bucky helped Summer get to her feet. This time, she kicked him rather than smacked him, then headed towards the hallway with Bucky following behind her.

Her mood vastly improved by the feat that she had just accomplished, Summer had a cheerful smile on her face as she walked past the kitchen. But that smile faded as soon as the smell of something utterly _amazing_ but forbidden hit her nose, and she stopped in her tracks to find out who the culprit was. It ended up being Steve, who was talking to Tony about something as he poured himself a cup of warm, delicious, very caffeinated coffee, and Summer closed her eyes to inhale the scent before whimpering and asking somewhat pitifully, "Couldn't you have waited until I was out of the room to make that?"

Steve turned around then, his drink halfway to his lips when he met her dismayed gaze and froze. His eyes flickered to Bucky and then back to her, slight panic evident on his face as he replied, "Uh... oh, yeah. I'm sorry. I guess I forgot."

"How could you forget?" she asked in disbelief. Tony leaned against the counter and watched with great amusement as she went on, "I have been complaining around you _every day_ for three weeks about how I can't have coffee anymore. And it's like 6:30, we all _just_ had dinner. Why are you even drinking it now?"

"I... it... sounded good," he replied weakly.

Summer wandered over towards Steve, Bucky following and shrugging cluelessly at him as Summer took a big sniff of the coffee mug and then turned away with a groan. "This is like drinking in front of an alcoholic."

"I'm sorry," Steve repeated helplessly. "I wasn't thinking, but... I can make you some decaf if you want?"

"Decaf still has caffeine in it!" she exclaimed as if he should know better than to even offer such a thing. "I haven't had a drop of caffeine since I found out I was pregnant!"

"Okay," Steve said, setting the mug aside and holding up his hands defensively. "Okay. It won't happen again."

"Yeah right," she muttered, genuinely crying now, to Steve's utter horror. She turned away and half-wailed, "No, go ahead and keep making your stupid coffee and drinking it with your stupid metabolism. Might as well rub it in my face and laugh at me while you're at it."

Tony snickered under his breath while Steve watched her walk away with his mouth hanging open. "But..."

"I don't wanna hear it!" she called out with a teary voice, not bothering to look back as she continued stomping away. "You should think about other people and not just yourself!"

She disappeared around the corner, and a moment later, Steve jumped a little at the sound of a door slamming shut. He then looked at Bucky, both of them equally wide-eyed and bewildered and not just because she had just told one of the world's most self-sacrificing people to stop being self-centered.

"If the next eight or nine months are like that," Tony said gleefully, "I'm going to need to stock up on popcorn."

"... Should I do something?" Steve asked Bucky, still looking completely helpless. "Should I go apologize again?"

Bucky shook his head, though he didn't look totally sure. "No... maybe just... get the smell of coffee out of here."

Steve nodded seriously and then got started looking through the tower for a can of air freshener or a candle or literally _anything_. Meanwhile, Tony eyed Bucky and asked, "She been biting your head off too?"

He shook his head again. "Not even a little."

"Huh. Interesting," Tony mused. Then he wondered aloud, "I wonder how much an entire shipment of theater popcorn would cost me."

Bucky gave the other man a weary look and then joined Steve in the hunt for something to drown out the scent of coffee. They ended up finding a giant apple pie scented candle and got it lit before Summer re-emerged, but it backfired when she walked out and sniffed the air, then went pale before heading right back to the bathroom holding her hand to her mouth. Steve then quickly blew out the candle and started cursing while Tony cackled and pointed at him, as Bucky sighed and headed to the bathroom to check on his poor pregnant wife.

* * *

Following the great coffee debacle of the day, Summer lost some but not all of her dinner and then decided that she'd had enough of the day in general. She went to bed in Bucky's room and curled up under the covers with her laptop and a cup of stomach-calming tea that Natasha had been thoughtful enough to bring her. She researched blogs and the best ways to get one started until her eyes started getting heavy, which was about the point where her boys arrived to spend the rest of her time awake with her.

She sipped her tea and watched happily as Bucky and David played a duet on the piano in the bedroom, something she never tired of seeing and hearing. They had both improved greatly since they started with the instrument, but David had already surpassed what Bucky was able to teach him, and finding him a good piano teacher was high on Summer's to do list. But for now, she was content to marvel at how well the two of them meshed through the music. The pleasant sounds of the notes coupled with David's occasional cute laughs easily lulled her to sleep, but she awoke with a start when David suddenly jumped on the bed next to her.

"Whoa," she blinked, barely managing to get her eyes to open as the little boy smiled at her and then signed for her to show him the pictures of his new brother or sister again. "Again? Gosh, kid, I've showed you like 20 times already."

"He's excited," Bucky smiled, sitting down on the bed on her other side. He handed her the pictures from where she'd left them on her bedside table, and then she smiled up at him before handing the pictures to David.

He giggled quietly when he saw the tiny baby's image, just as he had each time she had showed it to him. Then he looked up at her and signed _boy_, which made Summer grin. "Think so? What if it's a girl, though?"

He made a face, and Bucky asked in great amusement, "What's wrong with a girl? She's a girl," he nodded towards Summer. "Wanda's a girl and she's pretty much your favorite. Kylie's also a girl."

"_Kylie_," Summer repeated with a grin when David instantly shrunk back and smiled in embarrassment. Kylie was the little deaf girl that he had once protected with a toy shield when the tower had been under attack, and now she was his classmate at his school for kids with special needs. They were inseparable, and David was prone to heavy giggles when teased about it. Trying to play it off, he signed _boy_ again and followed it up with _brother_.

"Well, we'll find out in a few months," Summer shrugged sleepily, hugging the boy close to her with what little energy she had left. "And you'll be there with us when we do."

He smiled up at her and then looked at them both hopefully before asking them for his usual bedtime story. Summer was prepared to get up and trudge to his room to oblige, but Bucky came to the rescue and shook his head before gently telling the boy, "It's just me tonight. Mama had a long day and needs to sleep."

David frowned, but a quick glance at Summer proved Bucky right. David then sighed and dramatically dragged himself out of bed and walked with his head down all the way out the door.

"Aw," Summer groaned, immediately feeling horribly guilty once he was out of sight. "Help me up. I can go put him to bed with you."

She tried to sit up but Bucky stopped her, shaking his head and gently pushing her back down. "I've got it, Summer. Just sleep. You've been going all day."

"I know, but... I don't want him to think that now there's this new baby coming and he doesn't matter anymore," she said, tears stinging her eyes suddenly at the mere thought. Tears came entirely too easy these days, and she didn't remember the hormones being this strong the first time around.

"He won't think that," Bucky assured her. "There's two of us now, right? This is the kind of thing I'm here for. So just let me help you and... relax. Sleep for twelve hours."

She smiled, and he smiled back before leaning down and pressing a kiss to her forehead. His hand slipped beneath her blanket and came to rest on top of her belly, and the gesture warmed her from the inside out. Her hand went to his face as he smiled down at her, and she said quietly, "Thank you so much. For everything. I'm sorry I'm such a drag."

He shook his head and then replied, "You're not a drag. You work full time, you're publishing a book. You're an amazing wife and mother and you're carrying my baby. And you do it all in between puking at least three times a day and taking naps literally anywhere. That makes you _amazing_, not a drag."

She made a face. "I don't _feel_ amazing. I feel like roadkill. Worse than roadkill, actually. I feel like the gunk leftover on the road after the highway guys clean up the roadkill. I'm _that_."

He smiled and shook his head. "And you're funny, too. Wrong, but funny."

She blew out a breath, out of reasons and the will to argue, focusing instead on his hair as she pushed it off of his forehead. "You need a haircut."

He shook his head. "Don't worry about me. Or my hair."

She sighed. "Well dang it, Bucky. You've gotta give me something to do so that I feel useful to you still. I can barely even kiss you and I _definitely_ can't do the other stuff right now. I tried to make you a sandwich the other day and almost passed out because of how gross it smelled. But I _can_ still cut your hair, at least."

"No," he insisted.

"But -"

"Sh," he hushed her gently, placing a feather-soft kiss on her lips. "You _are_ useful. Don't ever think you're not the most important thing in my life, or that you have to do things to stay that way. You don't."

"I just..." She trailed off, feeling more tears coming from out of nowhere. "I don't want you to get bored, or... I mean, we _just_ got married and we're supposed to be having fun, and I see how the girls you work with look at you, and -"

He blinked. "Wait. What?"

"The tech girls," she replied, recalling the faces she had seen in the hallways of the Avengers facility earlier but hadn't paid much mind to until that very moment. "I don't know. Agent... girls. Whatever they are. Even with me standing there next to you, they look at you like you're this... mysterious, dangerous, fascinating _specimen, _which is totally what you are and I don't blame them, but..."

He blinked a few more times, as if she was speaking some kind of gibberish and thought she was insane. "... Summer, I don't think anyone looks at me like that."

"Oh yes they do," Summer replied wide-eyed.

"Even if they did, I don't understand why it matters, or..."

"It matters because..." She paused and shut her mouth briefly before deciding to just go ahead and unleash the sudden wave of crazy that she couldn't hold back anymore. "It matters because the whole time we've been together it's been one thing after another with me, like the car hitting me and now this, and I'm afraid that one day this is all gonna get to be too much or too boring and you're gonna be miserable and sick of me and..."

She knew she wasn't making any sense, and now she was crying profusely like an utter moron while Bucky stared at her like she had lost her mind. And maybe she had, because next she blurted out, "I'm not like any of those girls. I'm not Natasha. I know nothing about what you do, not really. I mean, I can shoot a gun okay but I can't fight worth a damn and I can barely figure out how to update iTunes, let alone hack into the CIA database or something. _And_ I'm a sick piece of crap and can't even kiss you for more than five seconds without almost barfing on you."

Face red and eyes quite shiny with those annoying tears, Summer covered her face with her hand while Bucky stared at her and tried to figure out how to answer her. After a moment that she spent trying to get herself together, Bucky reached to pull her hand down and then guided her to look him in the eyes.

"You're right that you're not like the girls at work," he said quietly. "Or Natasha. You're right. But that's one of the reasons why I love you. You're different. You're... not _normal_, that's not the right word, but... _real_. You're like real life in the middle of a bunch of stuff I can still barely understand." He brushed her hair behind her ear and quietly added, "Leaving it all there at work or on the street and then coming home to you... trust me, Summer, I wouldn't change a thing about you."

Tears still glistening in her eyes, though this time for happier reasons, she asked quietly, "You really mean all that?"

He nodded. "And the kissing thing... I'm patient. You know that."

"But... on the honeymoon, we did _so_ much, like nonstop, and..."

"That was a _honeymoon_," he chuckled.

She smiled back weakly. "I just want to keep you happy."

"You do," he assured her. "I just wish you'd stop being so hard on yourself."

She shrugged. "It's what I do." Then she looked down at his hand, still resting on her belly, and she placed hers on top of it before asking in a small voice, "Think it'll be okay? Our baby?"

"I hope so," he replied, his eyes on her belly as well. "Do you?"

She chewed her lip, replaying that chilly doctor's words in her head. "I think that if it's half as strong as you are, it'll be perfect."

His eyes flickered up to hers and he smiled, just enough to make her heart swell. "It sure looked perfect."

"It did," she smiled back. Then her smile faltered as she asked, "You wouldn't care, right? If there _was_ something wrong? If the baby came out... different?"

He didn't hesitate to shake his head. "Normal's the last thing I care about. You know that."

She nodded. "Me too."

Bucky then settled in closer to her, kissing her temple and holding her close as she closed her eyes and tried to turn off her brain. She was exhausted and worried and emotional and all over the place, but if there was anything that could center her, it was his arms around her and the now-comforting, familiar sounds of his left arm clicking and shifting quietly with each breath that he took and movement that he made.

He told her that he loved her just as she fell asleep, and she replied in such a sleepy, almost dopey way that it made him grin incredibly widely to himself. He stayed with her until he knew that she was out, and then he quietly tore himself away from her to put their son to bed next.

A little over a week later, Summer was in her office working when she got a call from Dr. Zaal telling her that all of the tests had come back completely normally, with no markers or indicators of a single abnormal or concerning thing anywhere. The baby was perfectly, beautifully healthy, and though Summer would have loved the child the same regardless, she cried with relief after hanging up the phone.

They were all right. Everyone was all right. And most importantly, her little peanut was, so far, _perfect_.


	43. Chapter 43

Almost exactly four and a half months into her pregnancy, Summer awoke fairly early one morning to something absolutely incredible. She had the day off of work and could have slept in if she had wanted to - which she _always_ did these days - but for once, she opened her eyes and felt legitimately _rested_.

Blinking back the surprise of such a radical concept as waking up non-exhausted for once, Summer slowly sat up in bed and glanced over to find Bucky still sleeping soundly next to her. He would have to get up soon to get to a training exercise he had to get to at the facility that morning, but she let him sleep and quietly slipped out of the bed.

She expected the semi-good feeling to fade into the usual pure crap that she was accustomed to, but after brushing her teeth and even brushing her hair - which was nothing short of an event - she still felt okay. In fact, she was starving, and the thought of chocolate chip pancakes with enough syrup to put an elephant in a coma sounded like the greatest thing in the world. And she didn't even _like_ chocolate chip pancakes.

The kitchen was empty and surprisingly clean when she made her way out to it after a quick shower, and she spent the next thirty minutes _cooking_ for the first time since the constant nausea had set in. She chugged orange juice as she cheerfully flipped the pancakes, then started eating them before she had even finished making them all. By the time she was finished, she had eaten no less than five, and she was stuffed and she felt _great_.

It had been like this with David, she recalled, where one day during her early second trimester, she had awoken in the morning suddenly feeling mostly human again. The thought that it was happening again and that the miserable stage of the pregnancy was finally over was the single most exciting thing possibly _ever_, and after finishing her breakfast and not feeling the least bit gross, she skipped off to tell Bucky the news.

She checked the time on her phone, knowing that Bucky would have to leave within the next fifteen minutes to get to work on time, so she wasn't surprised to enter his room and find the bed empty and messy with sheets that were clearly well slept in. She glanced at the bathroom door and crept towards it with a small grin when she heard the sound of water running. It was to soft to be the shower, so when she got to the door and tapped on it lightly before pushing it open, it was no surprise to find him standing there in just a towel and in the process of shaving his face.

He paused and glanced at her as soon as the door cracked open, and she stopped breathing for a moment when a sudden wave of heat overcame her at the sight of him still wet from his own shower and very close to being naked. That wave of heat was almost even more of a relief than the lack of nausea, because it had been so long since she had felt anything resembling even a smidgen of real desire that she had started to get a bit terrified.

"Hey," he said with a small smile, watching her ogle him as if she was seeing something brand new. She snapped her eyes up and smiled back as he cleaned his face off with a hand towel, and she finally remembered why she was there to begin with.

"Hey," she grinned, leaning against the doorframe. "So guess what?"

"What?" he asked curiously, putting the towel down and then running his hands through his wet hair to flatten it down on his head. It was getting _way_ too long and she needed to cut it, but she had other things to worry about at the moment.

"This is going to be shocking, but I got up today and actually felt good for once, and then I freaking _made pancakes_, and I ate a lot. And I feel _fantastic_."

His eyebrows shot up his forehead and he started walking towards her, genuinely happy to hear this. "_Wow_. Really?

She nodded and felt her smile widen as he got closer, reaching out and touching her face as he observed, "You do look better today. Got some of that color back in your cheeks."

"Well, that might not be from the food," she admitted, glancing down at his chest and feeling her blush grow hotter as she lifted her eyes to his again.

He tilted his head slightly and gave her a look, one brow arching as he grinned, "You _must_ be feeling better."

"Only one way to find to find out for sure," she noted cheekily before stepping up and closing her eyes, kissing him softly and gently winding her arms around his neck. She sighed quietly at those first little touches, feeling instantly like she was drowning in his scent and his arms that cautiously but sweetly wrapped around to embrace her back. Her gag reflex behaved this time, unlike all of the times before during the last few months, but Bucky still held her and kissed her like she might suddenly throw up at any moment, and she couldn't blame him.

The kiss was soft and sweet and it ended with both of them smiling, though Bucky looked concerned still as he drew away an inch or two and asked as his fingers threaded softly into her hair, "Still okay?"

"Oh yeah," she all but purred, tightening her arms around him and pulling him back for another kiss. She tried to deepen that one herself, but Bucky still wasn't fully convinced that she was really okay.

"We shouldn't push it," he groaned after very reluctantly breaking away. "If you're having a good day, I don't want to ruin it."

"But you're not," she whined slightly, refusing to let him go. "I feel _really_ good. I've missed being able to kiss you like this so much."

"You know I have to," he assured her, taking her hands and pulling them away from his hair, where they had been. "But I'm also gonna be late for work if we keep this up." Summer then pouted, literally, and Bucky's eyes dropped to her bottom lip before he groaned again and muttered, "Aw, _not the lip_..."

She smiled and giggled, then dropped her arms with a slight huff when he tore himself away from her to head back into his room. "This sucks. The one day I feel good and you have stupid training."

Summer following him closely as he walked to his closet, he glanced over his shoulder and said, "I know. But I'll be home tonight."

"That's forever away," she pointed out as he grabbed a few things from his closet and then tossed them on the bed. She crossed her arms and decided that she would at least have the pleasure of watching him drop the towel and get dressed, but then something suddenly occurred to her that changed everything.

The last few months had been difficult, but they certainly hadn't changed the fact that they were madly in love and that Bucky in particular couldn't say no to Summer when it came to things like what was currently on her mind. She held a sort of power over him that she didn't necessarily _feel_ like she was in possession of very often, but she knew that it was true and that this case would be no exception, if she so chose.

She watched him toss his pair of boots on the floor and contemplated her options. He _did_ have to leave soon, but he was kind of an Avenger and it wasn't like the sky was falling or aliens were currently rampaging through Manhattan again. It was just a training thing. He had those all the time. Would it really be so bad to be late once?

She made her decision when his right hand went to where the towel was gathered at his waist. She stepped forward and put her hand over his, drawing it away and making his eyes flash to hers in confusion as she smiled and walked around him so that she stood in front of him.

"I know you need to leave, but..." She drew her fingertips up the back of his hand and slowly up his forearm as she looked up and met his gaze. "_Maybe_ you could get away with being a little late?"

He blinked at her in surprise, and she could see the conflict in his eyes as he seemed to vacillate between disbelief, sudden excitement, and then dread as if she might start gagging and the whole thing would be ruined. She dragged her fingers back down his arm, then closed the last distance between them as her hands went to the towel and easily slipped it off of him.

She glanced down only to grin faintly at how he was already half _excited_ from just a few looks, words, and tiny brushes of her fingers on his arm. Then she looked back up and pressed herself against him, both hands sliding up his chest as she asked in what she hoped was a low, breathy voice, "Is that a yes?"

His hands went to her pajama-covered hips, then trailed up her sides under her unremarkable baggy sleep t-shirt as she kissed along his jaw, trying her best to convince him to be bad and stay for a bit. She knew what would really do it, so after a few more seconds she drew back and then pulled the shirt over her head. She dropped it on top of his towel, and his eyes glued themselves to her braless form as he lost all hope of resisting.

Being 18 weeks along now, her belly was no longer flat and was instead distinctly round-shaped and firm to the touch, protruding just enough to prove that she was truly pregnant rather than merely recovering from a hardcore junk food binge. It was the first place that Bucky's hands went, both of them running softly over the little baby bump like it was one of the most incredible things he had ever seen. Every week, his wonder for her and the life that she was carrying within her only grew, and it was as evident in his eyes as it was in his touch.

Then his hands stilled before one slid behind her back and the other went to her hair to pull her to him as he whispered roughly, "Come here."

Then they were kissing, _really_ kissing for the first time in _forever_, and Summer moaned shamelessly in both relief and pleasure at having this be fully enjoyable again. She couldn't get close enough to him and he couldn't kiss her or touch her enough, his hands getting the rest of her clothes off in record time as they devoured each other like two starving people who had just stumbled across a feast.

She got herself as close to him as she could, her belly still small enough to not really get in the way, and her breasts didn't hurt as they pressed tightly to his chest and dragged up and down slightly with their movements. They were still incredibly sensitive, but at that moment, it felt good instead of hideously painful.

"Lay down," Bucky groaned after hastily tearing his lips away from hers, urging her back towards his bed. "_Fuck_, you caught me by surprise."

"I caught myself by surprise," she smiled as she got on the bed, scooting back on it and watching as he crawled on top of her, all thoughts of work abandoned for the time being. "But I need this."

"I need it too," he replied, dropping his head down and kissing her again as her legs opened and welcomed him to lay between them. He kept his weight off of her belly but otherwise touched her exactly as how she remembered it, with one obvious exception.

"You can touch them," she told him between kisses, when his hands had nearly grazed her breasts before cautiously moving elsewhere. He looked down at her hesitantly but she nodded insistently. "It's okay. It doesn't hurt right now."

"It doesn't?" he asked, and after she shook her head and arched a little to encourage him, he brought his right hand up to cup one very swollen breast and touch it like he hadn't been able to in some time. She closed her eyes and exhaled, hissing and squirming a little with each little touch and then gasping when he placed his mouth on the other breast. He watched her carefully for her reactions, in case it began to hurt, but it felt _amazing_ \- too amazing, in fact.

His name was a broken, shaky plea on her lips within mere minutes, and he didn't stop what he was doing or let up one bit, undoubtedly savoring getting to touch her like he was. But it had been so long and he didn't want to tease her or string her along, so he slipped his left hand between them and, after a particularly needy moan, let the vibration in the metal limb purr to life. Neither of them expected the way that she fell apart within only _seconds_ of the touch.

It felt like it lasted forever for as quickly and unexpectedly as it had happened, and Summer was dazed and confused and in pure bliss in the aftermath of the sudden and _very_ easy release. She opened her eyes and breathed heavily through her mouth as Bucky gazed down at her with a knowing grin.

"You're even more sensitive now, aren't you?"

She nodded, nowhere near satisfied yet and feeling like she could go again and again even though she was still recovering. "Yeah. Yeah, I think so."

He gazed at her in wonder, his lips turning up at the corners in a dirty little smirk before he started slowly kissing down her neck. "Wonder how many more times I can make you do that before Steve calls asking where the hell I am."

"... I don't know, but if you want to find out... I know you're gonna be really late, but..."

He peeked up at her and gave her that same filthy grin as before. "Nowhere I'd rather be than where I'm going next, kitten."

She melted even more at just the pet name before his meaning even caught up with her, and by the time it did, his mouth was already hard at work on her and she was trying not to scream again.

They wasted the entire hour like that, making up for lost time and both of them thoroughly enjoying the changes that Summer's hormones had caused. Bucky _worshipped_ her breasts like it was his purpose in life, and she made sure that he didn't leave the encounter any less mind-blown than she did. By the time Bucky's phone rang next to their heads, they were both spent and kissing softly as they laid tangled up and exquisitely content following the unexpected and _perfect_ morning romp.

Summer giggled quietly when Bucky answered his phone and gave Steve a lame excuse that they both knew he wouldn't buy. Steve, it turned out, could tell by the quality of Bucky's voice what the real reason for his tardiness was, and Summer couldn't tell if that was creepy or not.

Regardless, Bucky hung up with a smile on his face and continued to hold her and kiss her until he damn well pleased. Summer ate it up, perfectly content and incredibly happy with the way that the day was going, and it only got better from there.

Bucky had been playfully nibbling on her ear when she felt a sudden jolt inside and froze, her eyes popping open and hand flying to her belly. Bucky noticed and also froze, thinking something was wrong at first.

"What? What's wrong?" he asked, staring at her in concern and worry that grew the longer she took to answer him. But she just held up her free hand to tell him to wait, her gaze focusing on nothing and the room quiet enough to hear a pin drop.

Then she felt it again. A swift, distinct, undeniable little _kick_.

She smiled and looked at Bucky in pure excitement. "I just felt a kick! It kicked me!"

His eyes widened and his mouth fell open in a way that was as innocent as it was sweet. "It _did_?!"

She nodded rapidly and then laughed, her eyes swelling with tears immediately. "I mean, I've been feeling little flutters for a few weeks, but _that_ was a kick. Two kicks, actually."

Bucky was just as excited as she was, though it was still too early for him to be able to feel the kicking for himself. "That's... wow. _Wow_."

"I know!" she sniffled happily. "I thought it would take a little longer, but I guess he or she's a tough little thing." Then her smile suddenly faded and she muttered, "... Or the crapload of hormones from what we just... did... made it really happy."

Bucky paused and stared at her. "... That's... not weird at all."

She cringed and shrugged. "It's true. I read it on the Internet a few weeks ago."

He clenched his jaw and forced a smile. "Kinda wish you hadn't shared that."

She shrugged, smiling at him in embarrassment until she realized she just didn't care. "Oh, who cares what caused it? Our baby just kicked me for the first time!"

He laughed, his expression once again just as joyful as hers, and it was the most perfect, sweet end to their morning together that Summer could have imagined. She felt _great_, their baby was healthy and kicking away, and Bucky was nearly two hours late for training by the time he finally got to the facility. But he regretted nothing and neither did she, because they had _needed_ that morning together and nothing short of a dire emergency could have stolen them away from each other.

If the rest of the pregnancy was like this, Summer was suddenly convinced that it would be nothing less than a piece of cake. Really, _really_ good, sexy cake.

* * *

Later that day, following one of the more major purchases Summer had ever made in her life thus far, she was somewhat nervously driving to the Avengers facility to surprise Bucky by picking him up and dropping not one but two surprises on him. She didn't think he'd have too much of an issue with the first, but when it came to the second, it was enough to give her full-fledged nervous flutters in her belly.

With David in the backseat happily playing his usual games on his tablet, Summer drove through the first security gate after showing the man stationed her special little low-clearance badge that Bucky had gotten for her back when the place had first been built, and then she was pulling into the facility and was suddenly more nervous than ever.

She parked, texting Bucky that _surprise_, she was here to pick him up, and after she sent it, she sat back and shoved a handful of curly fries into her face before mentally pacing back and forth. She was fairly sure that this was a bad idea, that springing this on both Bucky and David - two people who found great comfort in familiarity and routine - with little preamble would end up being an enormous failure on her part, but to be fair, she was also quite pregnant and had a habit as of late of being a bit hyperbolic.

And so, she decided to just eat her cheap but _delicious_ fast food and wait for Bucky to emerge from the building. When he did about ten minutes later, he walked out looking highly confused and stared at all the cars parked before she grinned and rolled down her window, then stuck out her head and chirped, "Over here!"

He finally spotted her then, and she watched him chuckle as he took in the new family-friendly SUV that she had just drove off of a lot back in the city. He ran a hand through his slightly unruly hair and strolled her way, checking out the new car as he headed for the passenger side door.

Once he got there, he opened it and then glanced inside before remarking, "Well, at least it isn't a minivan."

She smiled as he hopped in. "Right? And see, I got it in black, since I know you like black. It's actually pretty speedy for an SUV, and oh yeah, it's got satellite radio so you can listen to your super old oldies!"

He chuckled and glanced back at David and told him hi before leaning across the console and hushing her with a small but sweet kiss. After, she smiled at him a little uneasily and asked, "Do you hate it?"

He shook his head, looking over the interior of the vehicle and replying, "No, I don't. I told you I trusted you with picking something good for a family."

"I know, but I felt really weird buying something big like this without you there," she said. "But it has really good crash safety ratings, and lots of room for kids, so..."

"It's fine," he assured her sincerely, looking at her a bit curiously. "It's just a car. Were you really this nervous about it?"

She hesitated, biting her lip before admitting, "No, there's kind of... something else I wanted to talk to you about."

He clicked his seatbelt on, and as she began backing up and out of the parking lot, he replied with sudden mild concern, "Okay."

"Well," she began, belly fluttering again and not because of the baby inside of it, "after I got this car I stopped at my brother's house, since it's on the way out here. He was at work but I talked to Sarah for awhile, and she fed me cake and we talked about pregnancy stuff, but anyway. So we got to talking about different things, like life at the tower and stuff, and she asked me if we were going to stay there with the new baby and how we would make it work."

"... Okay," Bucky replied, watching her as she drove them away from the facility.

"And I got to thinking about it, and... I don't know how you would feel about this because we haven't talked about this _at all_, but..."

"What?"

She took a breath and then spit it out. "I think maybe we should get our own house. And there's a really nice looking house for rent that's only one street over from my brother's house, and I was hoping we could look at it." She paused. "Today. Like, now. Well, in half an hour."

Summer looked over at Bucky as she stopped at a stop sign, waiting on the edge of her seat for a reaction. He blinked in surprise a few times, and then said, "Oh."

Since she couldn't tell if that indicated a negative or positive reaction, she went with a very logical course of action and began babbling. "The thing is, I do love the tower and everything and I know that you like it there too, and you have Steve and Nat and Sam and everybody there all the time, and David loves it too, but the thing is, the walls are _really_ thin and it's _never_ quiet there. And we kind of have our own space but not really. Like you have your room and I have mine, although I really just share yours now and David has my room, but still, and we need to start buying stuff like a baby bed and a changing table and furniture and other stuff and we don't have anywhere to really put any of it, and -"

"Yeah, yeah," Bucky nodded. "I know. Slow down."

She smiled at that, glancing over to find a similar smile on his face that she found to be a great relief. He wasn't totally against the idea, then. "I just really want the baby to have a good, quiet place to sleep. And, I mean... we've never really had our own space, but I've always wished we did. I love everyone and I'd miss the crap out of them, but at the same time..."

"No, I understand," he replied quietly, glancing out at the highway as she drove them down it just under the speed limit. Driving fast was for people not carting around the people they loved most in the world.

"Really?" she asked with relief. "You're not just saying that?"

"No," he chuckled, looking over at her again. "I see what you're saying. Honestly I've been expecting this to come up. I knew it would sooner or later."

She let out a heavy breath. "Oh man, I was so nervous. I thought you would freak out, or... I don't even know. But are you sure that you're okay with the idea? You've been living there for so long and you've got so much support there, and..."

"Summer," he said gently, smiling at he kept his eyes on her, "relax. Yeah, I like it there, but I can't really imagine having a baby there. I can barely imagine having a baby at _all_, but..."

"Yeah," she nodded quietly. "Well, and that's another thing. This is going to be so new for both of us, and I think we need to really do it right, you know? And if we have our own place, Steve and everyone can still come over and we can come over too, but we won't be in their face all the time. And they won't be in _our_ faces all the time. It'll just be... better, I think. And the baby can have its own room. We can finally have _our_ own room. One that's actually ours."

That made Bucky grin a bit. "Yeah. I'll definitely like that."

She glanced away from the road to grin back at him. "I thought so. Okay... so, do you want to see this house, then? It's pretty big, not too far out of the city. You know Paul's neighborhood. It's nice, and I think I'd really like living that close to him."

Bucky nodded. "Sure. Let's see it."

She sighed in immense relief and refocused on the road. "_Awesome_." Of course, there was still David to convince, but he was napping in the backseat now, and he might warm up to the idea only after a decent amount of bribing.

The drive to the house in question felt shorter than it actually was, thanks to Summer's steady and now-happy babbling about such things like how weird it would be to have her own kitchen again and what kind of colors they should decorate their bedroom with. By the time they got there, the real estate agent Summer had made the appointment with was already there, waiting in their car as Summer pulled into the driveway next to them.

The neighborhood was quiet and very well maintained, the houses on the street not overly close to each other, which helped give the homes a sense of privacy. The one that was for rent was already fenced in, two stories high and painted with white and light brown. There was a two car garage, a fenced in backyard, and a chimney on the roof, and without even stepping a single foot inside, it felt to Summer sort of like the sort of home one would expect to see on a cute family sitcom. It was hard to imagine _her_ family in such a place, as unconventional as they were, but she was pretty sure they could make it work.

The first thing Bucky did after they parked was double check that his arm was disguised, then put on the hat that Summer had thoughtfully brought with her, though she still felt that it wasn't much of a disguise. Then they got out of the car, Bucky taking care of waking David up and getting him out of the car as Summer met the real estate agent, who turned out to be a nice older fellow who had no idea he was showing the house to the most wanted fugitive in the country and his wife and son.

Summer did all of the talking as they stepped inside and began the grand tour of the house. First they saw the entire downstairs area, complete with a nice open living room that included a pretty little fireplace, as well as a kitchen that obviously wasn't as huge or cutting edge as the one in the tower, but it was also open and already furnished with most of the needed appliances. Then they saw the backyard, which was nice and shaded and perfect for little kids to play and run around in, and after that, they went upstairs to check out the bedrooms.

There were three bedrooms and one office along the upper floor, and the master bedroom was almost double the size of Bucky's room back at the tower. It also had a connected bathroom which contained a rather attractive bathtub with jacuzzi jets, and that alone had Summer nearly sold on the house without having to even discuss anything else. Bucky seemed fine with it all, not overly picky about anything, really, and the one who really needed the most convincing with regard to the house was David.

When they got to the room that would be his if they took the house, David stood there and looked around at the empty room rather stonily, holding Bucky's hand. Summer walked around, checked out the closet space and how many electrical outlets there were, and with a cautious smile, she turned to David and asked, "What do you think? Do you like this place?"

The agent gave them some space and waited in the hallway as Summer knelt down in front of David, who glared at her before signing _home_. She frowned and said, "I know, sweetie. This is different and you don't like different. But you're gonna have a baby brother or sister soon, and we need to have our _own_ home now, like we used to. Remember that? When we had our own house and a backyard and lots of room to ourselves?"

David stared at her before rattling off a list of names, or rather, his signs for the people he would miss the most. First was Steve, then Wanda, Vision, and, to Summer's surprise, Natasha. "I know," she nodded. "But you'll still see them all the time, I promise. We'll go over there and see them and I'm sure they'll come over and see us, too. And this house is really close to Uncle Paul. He's right down the street, so you can play with your cousins more often, too."

David still wasn't sold, and Summer couldn't blame him. He was living every kid's dream by residing in the same tower as a bunch of superheroes, and of course he wouldn't want to leave that. Summer looked up at Bucky for help, and after a moment spent in thought, Bucky gave David's hand a tug so that the boy would look up at him. Then he said, "I'll drive you to the tower myself, all the time. At least a couple times a week."

"Yeah," Summer agreed, "and like I said, I'm sure they'll come over all the time. I'll make big dinners and yummy cakes and stuff to bribe them even if they don't feel like it."

David then looked around the room again, frowning and then signing one more word, _different_. Knowing what that meant, Summer nodded quickly and said, "We'll make it look just like the room you've got now, don't worry. And the routine will stay the same, I promise. What do you say?"

David pouted a little, then glared at her belly before nodding and then pointedly looking away. Summer glanced up at Bucky, a little nervous now that David was blaming this unfortunate event on his unborn little sibling, but... well, it was an adjustment for all of them, and Summer was aware that an older kid used to being an only child would probably inevitably harbor _some_ resentments at a new baby and the changes they brought. She was confident that he'd come around, and once he saw that life really was going to be mostly the same and he'd still see all of his favorite people all the time, surely he'd be all right.

Leaving the boy be for now, Summer straightened up and pulled her slightly too-tight shirt down over her belly, then asked Bucky quietly, "What do you think?"

"I like it," he shrugged. "What do you think?"

"I like it a lot," she smiled. "Price is good too. I know it's only the first house we've looked at, but..."

"I can tell you want it," Bucky grinned slightly. "If you want it, get it."

She gulped a little. Buying a brand new car and renting a brand new house all in one day was quite the leap, and though they both made plenty of money to cover both, her lifetime of living painfully frugally made her incredibly nervous to jump in.

Bucky watched her fidget nervously for a moment, then took matters into his own hands by turning around and telling the real estate guy still waiting in the hallway, "We want it."

Summer contained a sudden inner squeal of glee. They were _finally_ going to have a home of their very own.

* * *

When they got back to the tower that night after grabbing dinner out and letting David pick out a new toy to cheer him up, the first person Summer walked up and blurted out the news to was the very first one she saw, which was Natasha.

Setting down an empty wine glass in the kitchen sink, Natasha looked up and blinked at Summer. "What?"

"We just signed a year lease on a house an hour away," Summer repeated, both incredibly excited and yet now also sad now that she knew her days at the tower were numbered. She wasn't sure if it was just the hormones, but when she saw the surprise and clear disappointment on Natasha's face, she was suddenly on the verge of tears.

"Oh," Natasha said, turning off the water and still looking confused as she turned to face her friend. "Wow. Had you been planning on moving, or..."

"I just brought it up to Bucky today," Summer replied, "and there's this house in my brother's neighborhood that I wanted to look at, and we went to look at it and it just kind of... happened?"

"Well... I suppose I shouldn't be surprised," Natasha smiled a little, leaning against the counter. "This place isn't the best environment for a baby. Very noisy and not always safe, at least not when Stark is testing out his new tech in random places."

Summer smiled back. "Yeah, I mean... I'm gonna miss it a lot and we'll still come over a lot, but... I just think it's time to move on, you know?"

Natasha nodded understandingly, and then Steve came walking up behind her as he asked, "Who's moving on?"

Bucky happened to come and join Summer in the kitchen just a few seconds later, and out in the living room, David was telling Wanda the news with a very unhappy pout on his face. Summer glanced their way before looking at Bucky, then at Steve as she told him, "We're kinda... moving out."

Where Natasha hadn't been particularly happy about the news but was still understanding and not at all truly surprised, Steve's face fell and he looked at both Summer and Bucky with such sad surprise that it made Summer feel genuinely guilty. "_What_?"

She went through the whole story to Steve, going into a bit more detail than she had with Nat, and by the time she was finished, he didn't look any less distraught than he had when she had first blurted it out.

"Wow," he said quietly. "I guess I should have been expecting this. I'm just so used to how everything's been and you guys always being here. But yeah... I guess you're right, with the baby and all. Tower's not exactly a real home."

Summer nodded. "Yeah. You have to come over though, like a lot. And we'll come here, too."

"Yeah, definitely," Steve nodded. Then he looked at Bucky and smiled and shook his head. "Just... _wow_. I'll miss the way things are now, but I'm really happy for you both."

Summer smiled brightly, then felt a sudden pang of guilt deep inside for how badly she'd treated the poor guy ever since she had found out she was pregnant. She felt no rage towards her own husband _ever_, but for whatever odd reason, Steve - _Steve_, who was basically as close to perfect as it got as far as men were concerned - had ended up being the target of all of her irrational anger. Almost every day he managed to do _something_ to piss her off, and she couldn't help but to let him have it. Now, however, she felt like the lowest of the low, utter scum at the bottom of a gross pond, and to deal with this, she suddenly flew into Steve's arms and gave him a hug as she burst out crying.

"I'm so sorry," she wailed into Steve's shoulder, as he stood there looking at both Natasha and Bucky in sudden confusion. "I've been such a bitch to you, and you haven't deserved it. You've never anything to hurt me _ever_ and I suck. Now I won't get to see you as much and _ugh_..."

"It's okay," he assured her, still looking at Bucky with eyes that screamed _help me_, gingerly patting her back. "Really, it's okay."

"No it's not," she sniffed, refusing to let go. "I'm a horrible person."

"No you're not," Steve said. "You're just... you're... you've been... _hormonal_, that's all." Bucky and Natasha both widened their eyes and gave Steve the universal signal to put a sock in it, but he kept going regardless. "And that's supposed to be normal for a woman in your... you know... condition."

Abruptly, Summer's tears stopped flowing, and she narrowed her eyes and pulled away from Steve. Her guilt gone and replaced swiftly by that familiar prickle of annoyance, she let go of him and repeated, "Hormonal... in my condition?"

Steve's eyes widened and he froze. "I just meant... uh... I meant that it's not your fault."

"What's not my fault?" she demanded.

"The... you know... what you were talking about. When you said you've been being a... a, uh..."

"Steve," Bucky interrupted, "stop digging. Grave's deep enough."

Summer glared at Steve. "If you had any idea what I deal with on a daily basis..."

"No, no," he held up his hands in surrender, "I know. I mean, I _don't_ know, and that's why... oh my God." He cringed and shut up, knowing there was nothing he could say now to save himself.

"If you knew half of what I have to deal with every day," Summer repeated, all the warm and fuzzy feelings replaced by that hormonal stuff Steve had been talking about. "For four months I have thrown up at least twice every single day - every single day, Steve - and I'm not even gonna get into the other stuff, like how I can sleep all day and still be exhausted, or how today was the first day I _finally_ got to have sex for the first time since my fricking honeymoon -"

"Come here, sweetheart," Bucky said gently, taking her by her shoulders and leading her away from Steve before she blew up at him fully. As he passed Steve, Bucky shook his head and muttered, "All this time and you _still_ don't know how to talk to women."

Steve's eyes widened and he hissed under his breath, "Not crazy pregnant ones!"

Summer whipped around in an instant. "_What_ did you just say?!"

Steve paled in terror and Bucky turned her back around, walking her across the kitchen. "Nothing, don't worry about him. But look, I got you something earlier."

"... What?" she asked as he steered her towards a row of cabinets, her rage briefly tempered by curiosity.

"Well, you've been craving cookie dough lately but you can't have it, right?" he said, letting go of her to reach into one of the cabinets. She nodded, groaning a little just at the thought of cookie dough, and then he pulled out a rather large yellow box from the cabinet and presented it to her. "I found these. Chocolate covered cookie dough... things. But it's not real cookie dough. Totally safe."

Her eyes became so wide that she nearly popped a blood vessel or two as she stared first at the box and then at Bucky, who had successfully erased every last bit of her anger with just this very well-timed, very thoughtful, gift. "_Holy crap_! Are you kidding me?"

He smiled and shook his head as she snatched the box away and examined it like it was something extremely rare and precious. "Nope. Thought you'd like it."

"Like it?" she repeated, ripping the box open and grabbing a few of the little candies and shoving them in her mouth. "I _love_ it! Oh my God, they're good! Like really, really good! Crap, I'm gonna eat this whole box in like five minutes."

"I figured that," Bucky grinned. "Which is why I got _these_."

He then opened the cabinet to reveal that it was utterly stocked with more boxes of the stuff, which made her squeal as she swallowed the candy and then fling herself happily into his arms. "Oh my God, you are perfect! I love you!"

He chuckled as he hugged her, kissing her cheek as he replied, "I love you too."

She pulled away, still holding the box in one hand as she put the other on his cheek, then leaned in and kissed him under a sudden wave of sheer adoration. Where Steve inexplicably brought out her rage, Bucky seemed to only bring out happy and pleasant feelings, which was very much a good thing as far as she was concerned.

After the first short, sweet kiss, she went in for another, and another after that, and soon she groaned quietly against his lips and muttered, "Can we have sex?"

"Right now?" he asked, eyebrows going up a little as he smiled in amusement.

She nodded. "I need it." Then she popped a few more of the cookie dough pieces into her mouth, chewed them, and said, "Can I eat these while we do it?"

He stared at her for a moment. "I... sure, if you want to, I guess, but we should probably wait until later."

She pouted. "But..."

"You know I want to," he assured her, "but I think David needs you more right now."

She blinked at him in confusion, then turned and looked at David, who hadn't budged once from the spot he'd taken on the couch when they had first come home. He was sitting next to Wanda and looked to be on the verge of crying, and as soon as Summer saw it, her urges for other things went away in a flash.

"Oh," she said quietly, turning back to Bucky. "Okay. I'll talk to him."

"Okay," he replied quietly, kissing her one more time and making her giggle softly. Meanwhile, Steve watched in slight awe, gesturing to them helplessly to Natasha.

"I say one word and she explodes. Then two minutes later, he has her happy and giggling," Steve noted.

"It's okay. You'll catch up one of these days. Maybe," Natasha teased, earning a half-hearted glare from him.

After Bucky left to take a shower or something, she wasn't totally sure, Summer took a breath and headed towards her son in the living room, eating more of the candy along the way. He didn't look up as she approached, and he also didn't even blink when she sat next to him, putting an arm around him and glancing at Wanda who sat on his other side.

"Hey, kiddo," she said gently, as he continued to stare stubbornly at his feet. "I can tell you're not happy."

His frown deepened, but he still refused to look at her. She sighed and settled back against the couch, pulling him to snuggle at her side when she found no resistance. "It's gonna be okay, I promise. You're gonna love the new house, and we'll still come over here all the time. I work here, you know. We've got tons of reasons to come a whole lot."

Her words weren't very comforting, however, and to her surprise, the little boy started _crying_ on her shoulder as he curled up closer to her. She looked at Wanda, who looked just as sympathetic and surprised as she was, and then she was rubbing his back and trying to soothe him as much as she could. She felt awful, however, and pretty soon, she was crying a little bit too. She just couldn't help it, emotions proving as contagious these days as the common cold, and she hadn't thought that David would have taken the news _this_ hard.

She let him cry it out, reminding him periodically that everything would be okay and that this wasn't truly goodbye to the tower. Once he calmed down some, she managed to stop crying herself, and then Wanda's voice drew her attention away from her own guilt.

"When are you leaving?" she asked softly, not looking very happy about the news either.

"I'm not sure," Summer replied as David sniffed sadly against the puddle he'd made on her shirt. "Probably in the next few weeks. I need to start packing tonight."

Wanda nodded. "It won't be the same when you leave."

Summer paused in surprise, smiling a little. "Really?"

Wanda shook her head, glancing at David. "I remember when I first came here. Everyone was suspicious, nobody _really_ trusted me, except maybe for Steve. But you were nice. And you made me food," she smiled. "I will miss you. And your son."

Summer smiled back widely, now about to cry all over again, but for very different reasons. "We will too! But I really mean it, we'll still come here all the time. And you're welcome to come and see us or even stay with us if you ever want to. I'm not just saying that, either. I'd love to have you over as much as you want."

Wanda smiled back and nodded. "Okay. I hope he will be all right," she gestured to David.

"Oh yeah," Summer nodded. "He's a tough little guy. I feel bad, but... it's really the best thing for all of us."

"I'm sure," Wanda agreed, and something popped into Summer's head that she had been meaning to ask the girl.

"Oh, I was wondering... this might be a stupid question but I figured I'd ask anyway. Do you think that maybe, if you tried, that you could kind of... see my baby?"

"See? You mean..."

"Kinda like how you talk to David," Summer nodded.

"Oh. I don't know, but I could try," Wanda shrugged.

"Could you? I mean... if it doesn't work, that's fine, but if it did, it would just be really _really_ amazing, you know?"

"I'll try," Wanda nodded, getting up and then sitting down on Summer's other side. David watched with still-watery eyes as Wanda looked at him first, then carefully reached out and touched Summer's growing belly.

Summer stared at the other woman as she closed her eyes, concentrating and keeping very still for a few moments. She waited on pins and needles as the minutes passed, and when Wanda opened her eyes and looked at her, Summer asked, "Could you see anything?"

"Yes," Wanda smiled, furrowing her brows as if trying to make sense of what she'd just experienced. "It wasn't a lot, but... I've never seen a mind so... innocent and... _new_."

"Whoa," Summer smiled, and David was also taking notice now. "What was it like? Could you tell if it's a boy or girl?"

"No," Wanda shook her head. "I don't know how to explain it. It just felt... happy. Very peaceful. And _safe_."

"So it's happy?" Summer asked with a smile that only grew more and more with each new word.

"I think so," Wanda replied, her expression giving away how contagious that innocent happiness was. "I think that maybe as it grows, I might be able to see more."

That made sense, as the baby's mind was growing and developing more with each new week that passed. "Thank you," Summer said softly, giving the woman a grateful smile. "You're amazing."

Wanda smiled back, then glanced behind the couch at something, or someone, that apparently caused her to blush very faintly before she looked away, pretending to focus back on Summer. But Summer only gave her a peculiar look before looking behind the couch herself, and she was unsurprised to find Vision to be the culprit, who smiled and nodded at her before floating off on his way to wherever he was going.

Summer looked at Wanda knowingly but contained her urges to play overly eager matchmaker tell her to just go and make out with him already. Instead, she hugged David a little tighter and offered him her cookie dough candy, which he accepted with a few final sniffles.

Regardless of where she lived, the tower was a part of her life and so were the extraordinary people within it. She couldn't see that ever changing, so surely David would see, in time, that he had nothing to fear.

* * *

Later that night in bed, Summer managed to stay up past her usual rather sad 9 o'clock bedtime and get some very important work done on her laptop. She was tapping away, in the "writing zone" as she called it, so focused that she only noticed that Bucky had crawled into bed next to her when she felt his hand creep up her leg beneath the covers.

Pausing in her typing, Summer looked over and grinned at Bucky as he drew closer, sitting next to her and kissing her bare shoulder next to the thin strap of her tank top. "Busy?"

She nodded, letting him steal a kiss on her lips before she replied, "Yep. Just doing a blog thing."

"What blog thing is it tonight?" he asked, not having to feign his curiosity in the least. He glanced at the screen, and Summer promptly pushed his face away playfully.

"I can't type with you watching!" she protested with a smile. He relented, and she explained, "I'm writing an update... thing. Mostly pregnancy centered stuff. Talking about how it was my first good day in forever. How awesome my husband is. And how my sweet little boy might be having a tough time adjusting to change. I'm asking readers if they have experience with these kinds of situations, what they did to help their kids adjust."

Bucky raised his brows and pointed out, "David's already adjusted to more change than probably all your readers combined."

"Probably," she shrugged. "But, it encourages people to comment. And hey, I've got actual _readers_ now! Not a ton, but not bad for only having this thing going a few months."

"And writing about being pregnant is supposed to make people buy your book that's about... two people having sex on a farm?"

"Hey!" she shoved at him playfully, both of them chuckling softly. "First of all, it's totally about more than that, which you _know_, and second, yes, actually. I've posted a few excerpts and stuff promoting it. If they like me and my writing about other stuff, then chances are they might buy my actual book when it comes out."

"I just still can't believe what you call me on there," Bucky said, his hand still under the covers and trailing mindlessly up and down her leg.

"What? I think it's cute!" she giggled, glancing at the screen. "Mommy blogs always give the husband and kids code names. I thought 'Batman and Robin' were perfect. I mean, you're basically a superhero-slash-vigilante with a secret identity and everything. The readers have no idea how fitting it actually is. And David, he's totally your brave little sidekick. Just without the creepy tights."

"And what's that make you?" Bucky asked curiously, fingers tickling lightly underneath her knee.

She thought for a moment. "Hmm... a younger, female Alfred, since I take care of you guys."

Bucky laughed despite himself, and Summer chuckled with him. "That's ridiculous."

She shrugged and turned back to the computer. "Maybe, but oh well. Now let me finish writing this so I can post it and go to sleep."

"Yes ma'am," he replied obediently, taking his hand off of her and slipping away, grabbing his phone off of the bedside table as she got back to typing.

A few moments later, she was nearly finished when the sound of Bucky cursing softly and jerking every few minutes nabbed her attention. She furrowed her brows and looked over to find him visibly frustrated and jabbing at his phone with his right index finger. "Are you... okay?"

"Stupid damn game," he muttered, still stabbing his finger at the screen.

"What game?" she smiled.

"Tetris," he replied. "Last time I try something Stark suggests."

Summer snickered and then ran a spell check on her post. After that came back fine, she double checked everything one more time before hitting the submit button, and once that was done, she closed the laptop and set it aside, having more pressing things to tend to at the moment.

She snuggled up at her husband's side, laying her head on his shoulder as he continued trying to fit pieces together with increasing difficulty. Watching him, she yawned and then said, "Do the L-shaped one, flip it and put it _there_."

He tried to do as she said, but the piece moved too fast, and it went to the wrong place. He growled and then angrily exited the game, then tossed the phone back on the table. Summer grinned and patted his cheek as she said, "Aw, don't take it out on the poor phone. It's okay. Old men aren't known for their video game skills."

He half-glared at her and slipped his arm around her, pulling her closer and turning towards her as he grinned, "Oh yeah? You want to talk about _skills?"_

She shook her head and smiled. "Nope."

He gave her a look but kissed her softly, letting it linger for a moment before he said quietly, "This is the latest you've stayed awake in... months."

"I know," she said, her hand on his chest, playing absently with the fabric of his t-shirt. "I keep thinking I'm gonna wake up tomorrow and feel horrible again, but... I hope not, especially now that we've gotta get started packing and stuff."

He nodded, taking a deep breath just at the mention of moving. "Right. Packing."

She was quiet for a moment, watching her fingertips trace along the collar of his shirt. Then she said in a small, somewhat fearful voice, "Do you think he'll be okay? David? Should we have waited to move, maybe? If the baby and the new house is too much..."

Bucky shook his head. "No. No, he'll be okay."

"But... did you see the way he kinda glared at my belly earlier, when I said we'd have to leave the tower?" she asked, replaying the moment in her head. "I just don't want him to resent the baby and blame it for us moving. I want them to get along and play and have a good relationship, but if he thinks the baby ruined everything, then -"

"Summer," Bucky said quietly, covering her hand with his on top of his chest. "You're getting way ahead of yourself."

"I know, but..."

"Maybe once he sees how nothing's really gonna change, that he'll still see everyone all the time, then he'll calm down," Bucky said, and Summer hoped that was true.

"Yeah... or he'll hate the baby and hate us and think we're trying to replace him or something."

At that outlandish thought, Bucky drew away to give her an incredulous look. "_Summer_..."

"I'm stupid, I know," she sighed, gesturing uselessly with her hand. "I'm just worried. I can't get that glare out of my head. And the way that he cried on me tonight... _ugh_."

"He's gonna be fine," Bucky assured her, pulling her in close again and kissing her forehead. "We'll figure it out."

"How are you always so confident?" she asked him, tipping her head back to look at him in a bit of awe. "I mean... how? This is as new for you as it is for me, so..."

He looked at her, fingers carding aimlessly through her hair as he contemplated his answer. Finally, he shrugged lightly and said, "I guess because we've made it through harder things. And he's a tough kid. He gets it from you."

She smiled, and he smiled back before leaning down and placing another light peck on her lips. Her hand went to his jaw to keep him there when he tried to pull away, and a few kisses later, he smiled and admitted after drawing back an inch or two, "I keep expecting you to push me away and say you're gonna puke."

She chuckled and shook her head. "Nope. Not today. I still feel great." Then, winding her leg with his and sliding her fingers to his hair, she suggested with a little grin, "One more time, just in case I wake up feeling all gross again tomorrow?"

His response was a grin that matched hers and his lips on hers, much less chaste and innocent than before, and just that touch made her moan quietly and wind her legs more tightly with his. She really _was_ more sensitive now and even more easily excitable, which was really saying something, and if it was even possible, she also had even less of a filter now.

Within moments she was on top of him and pushing up his shirt, grinding softly but needily down on him already, and it was when a particularly heated kiss of theirs broke that she blurted out mid-gasp, "I had a super horny phase the last time too, in the second trimester."

Having been in the middle of pulling her thin little sleep shorts down from her hips, he looked up at her in slight surprise. "Really?"

She nodded and added, "It was _bad, _and I was all alone, and it sucked." His hands pulling her lower half down and squeezing her against him, she groaned and muttered, "This is gonna be so much worse, I just know it. Better, I mean, but worse because you're gonna make me even hornier."

"I bet I can keep up," he smirked before carefully turning her over, placing her underneath him as he kissed her deeply once more.

After, she licked her lips and said, "I don't know. I just... went and went and _went_ back then, so..."

His smirk grew even more. "Maybe now you'll finally keep up with _me_."

She raised her eyebrows at the challenge. "Oh you are so on." They both smiled and laughed very quietly before they kissed again, shedding more clothes and falling into a dance that never got old, especially when nearly five month long periods of celibacy made them appreciate it all the more.

By the time a full two hours had passed, Summer decided that someday, she'd learn to stop being so silly as to doubt a man of his expertise and... vigor. Then she fell asleep in a state of pure bliss, safe, happy and satisfied in the arms of the father of her children, all of her worries put aside, at least for then, for another day.

* * *

_Two weeks later_

If there was one thing David had learned in his young but very eventful life so far, it was when to be suspicious. He had endured being held at gunpoint by evil HYDRA minions, having his first home blown up, then the tower he called home nearly being blown up as well, as well as terrible injuries befalling his mother and forcing her to learn how to walk again. In short, whenever something changed, even if it was good change, he treated it with seasoned skepticism, with the exception of when Bucky had asked for permission to marry his mother, because well, _that_ had just been awesome.

But from where he sat now, which was a small little chair in the office of some doctor lady, or midwife, whatever _that_ was, David eyed his parents and their nervous but happy expressions carefully. It was quite early in the morning, and he just wanted to go home to the tower and go back to sleep, but they had insisted that he needed to be here today. Today they were finding out if the baby was a boy or girl, and they wanted him to share the moment with them.

The problem was, he thought as the midwife came in and cheerfully greeted both of his parents while wheeling in some big contraption with a screen and buttons and other stuff, he just wasn't sure about all of this baby business. Ever since this mysterious, unseen baby had come into things, his mama had been sick and tired all the time and even busier than she had been before, and his daddy spent so much of his time helping her and looking after her that David felt like he was a bit on the sidelines. But that was okay, because they lived at the tower and he had lots of people to see and have fun with.

Except now all their stuff was in boxes and they were moving to some stupid _new_ house in just a couple of days.

David could only imagine that once this baby was _out_ and crying and hungry all the time, like the babies he saw in movies, he'd be all but forgotten about and stuck in some new room with nothing to do but play video games alone while his parents fussed over the new kid. Only now it would suck even more because he wouldn't even have the tower and all the awesome people there.

As the midwife spoke cheerfully to his parents and began getting ready to do whatever it was that she was doing, David sat silently and watched it all with half-disinterest and half-resignation. He _wanted_ to be as happy as they both looked right then, but all he could see as far as what laid ahead was just a bunch of crap.

Everything had been awesome, _super_ awesome, and then along came this mysterious creature and suddenly it was all ruined.

Fully convinced of this, David counted the minutes and waited for this to be over so that he could go home and enjoy the tower for the measly last few days that he'd have it. The midwife lifted his mama's shirt up and squirted some weird, kind of gross stuff on it and then put something in her other hand on it, which was when the monitor started making noise and the image started moving around.

"Watch, sweetie," she said with a smile, and David glanced at her neutrally before obediently staring at the screen. He saw a bunch of nothing so far, and that was fine, because he didn't really want to see anything.

He looked away after a minute, which was when his daddy noticed and put an arm around him, saying, "Keep watching."

David held back a sigh and looked at the screen again, leaning his head tiredly on his father and wondering exactly what he was supposed to see in the images, because he definitely didn't see a baby.

"Okay," the midwife said, "I think I've found the little peanut."

David blinked when his mama gasped quietly and squealed a little bit. This time, he could actually see something, and it really did look like a baby. There was the shape of a head and a little body too, and the outline of a tiny face. The little button nose on the baby's face was unmistakable.

Then the baby moved its hand up and then back down, and David glanced at his mama's belly with suddenly wider eyes. There really _was_ a real baby in there.

_...Gross_. How did that thing even get there, anyway?

He looked at both parents, finding nothing but joy on both of their faces. His daddy looked especially awed by the pictures, and David couldn't help but feel a little... well, jealous.

He liked having both of them all to himself, and as much as everyone said that being adopted was just the same as having your own baby, David wasn't totally sure. He wasn't convinced that Bucky wouldn't love the new baby a little, or a lot, more than he loved him.

"Ready for the big news?" the midwife asked his mama, and she nodded happily.

"Yeah, but we were wondering if maybe you could tell David first," Summer said, and David looked at her with suddenly big eyes. _What_? She smiled at him and then explained, "This is your brother or sister. You're gonna be a huge part of its life, and I thought maybe we haven't been including you in stuff enough, so... if you want to, you can find out first."

He blinked a few times, feeling a bit put on the spot and still super confused. Then she added, "You know Uncle Paul? He's my brother, and I don't know where I'd be without him. You're gonna be just as important to this baby."

... He was?

He looked at the midwife, who smiled warmly and gestured for him to get up and stand next to where she was seated next to his mother. He looked around one more time before getting up, walking slowly and unsurely to the weird lady, and once he got there, she shifted the ultrasound wand and then pointed to the screen.

"That's the baby's spine right there, and it's heart. You can really see it working, huh? It's cool stuff," the lady said, and David had to admit, it actually was kind of cool. It was sort of like a moving X-Ray, but with a better overall picture.

"Now, all I have to do is move over here and little bit and take a look..." she trailed off, moving the wand again, and David had no clue what he was looking at now. But that was okay, because soon the midwife was smiling again and leaning down to whisper something conspiratorially to him.

It was only four words, but at it turned out, they were four very important words. "You have a sister."

... _A sister_?

Dang it.

His one hope had been that the baby would be a boy and thus have some kind of redeeming quality, but instead, it was a girl. That meant the color pink and bows and frills and... oh God... _Barbie dolls_. The horror!

Carrying the heavy burden of the truth on his little shoulders, David looked up at the screen one more time and then trudged back to his parents. They were both smiling and waiting for the news, looking at him expectantly, so with a deep sigh like he was telling them truly unfortunate news, he signed, "Girl."

And the thing was, between the surprised and happy smile on his daddy's face and the teary laugh that came from his mama, David found it very hard not to start smiling himself. It was awful news, yes, but they were both so _happy_. And Bucky pulled him in for a little hug almost immediately, which was a pretty sure fire way of cheering him up.

"Oh man, a girl," Summer laughed, squeezing Bucky's hand as a tear rolled down her face. "A girl! What _do_ I even do with a girl?"

"Dress up," the midwife suggested with a smile. "Tea parties. Pink, purple, whatever color she likes."

David made a face. The more he heard, the worse it all sounded.

Summer looked at Bucky, eyes shining and expression just dripping with excitement and happiness. He smiled back, and then Summer said quietly, "Adelaide."

"Adelaide?" he asked in disbelief. "That's the one I liked. You said it didn't feel right."

"That's what I thought, but..." She looked back at the monitor and smiled even wider. "_Look_ at her. She's just... she's Adelaide. You were right."

Bucky smiled and looked at his tiny daughter's image, tilting his head a little and agreeing wholeheartedly. "Yeah. _Adelaide_."

David wrinkled his nose a little at the name, but he guessed that it was good enough. He was too busy imagining drowning painfully in pink bows and flowers and fairies and unicorns to care too much about much else.

Then Summer grabbed his attention by letting go of Bucky's hand to take his. He looked at her, and she said, "You know, you're gonna be almost the same age my brother was when I was born. You're gonna be _so_ important to her. She's gonna look up to you and just... you're gonna be her _big__brother_. You have no idea how huge that is and how much she's gonna need you."

When David blinked at her, not really following, she went on, "My big brother was always there when nobody else was. He protected me and taught me stuff and played with me. He showed me how to ride a bike and he taught me how to drive. And he teased the crap out of me and still does," she chuckled, squeezing his hand. "But I don't know where I'd be without him. And it's gonna be the same for you and... _Adelaide_. She's gonna need you. And I know you don't feel this way now, but once she's here and you know her and see how much she's gonna love you... you're gonna need her too."

Expression serious and not so dire any longer, David looked at the monitor and wondered if all of that was true. She'd never lied to him before and he trusted her, but... why would this kid need him?"

"I had a little sister," Bucky told him, and David turned to look at him. He smiled a little sadly, glancing at the midwife, and David had a feeling it was because Bucky couldn't talk about things in public the way he could at home. He was used to that. "She was a brat and got on my nerves. Drew on all my things and never left me alone. But I loved her to death. Some of my favorite memories are of her."

David understood the significance of that, knowing the problems he had with remembering things from his old life. Then he looked at his mama again, and she added, "It's all gonna work out, I promise. Things will change, but it'll be a _good_ change."

He eyed her skeptically, but... _maybe_ she was right. He sure hoped so, anyway, since it seemed like this baby was definitely here to stay no matter what.

When the midwife printed pictures of the baby from the ultrasound machine, she handed them to David first. He looked at the very first one as he held the photos carefully, again staring at the baby's button nose and the tiny hand that was reaching up towards its face, and though he didn't want to admit it, there was no denying the fact that the baby was actually pretty cute. A little alien-like, yes, but in a cute way.

Maybe he could teach her important things like how to fight bad guys and train her on his Wii so that they could take on their parents in epic Mario Kart battles and win handily. He supposed that wouldn't be so bad. As long as she kept quiet and didn't scream all night while he was trying to sleep, _maybe_ this wouldn't be the end of the world.

Maybe.

He handed the pictures to Summer, who smiled at him and then looked down at the baby's image with such love in her eyes that David began to actually feel a little guilty for how he had been feeling. The baby didn't _mean_ to come along and ruin everything, of course. And if what his parents said was true and they held up their promises... then everything wouldn't be ruined after all.

"I say we go to Toys r Us," Summer said brightly, smiling at Bucky first, then David. "We can pick out the baby's first toy, and you can help us. Then you can pick out whatever you want for yourself."

David's eyebrows shot up, and he signed, "_Whatever_ I want?"

She nodded. "Whatever you want."

For the first time that day, David smiled and then hopped to his feet, more than ready to start reaping these sudden, unexpected benefits of having a sibling. He looked at his mama's belly, which had popped out a _lot_ in just the last two weeks, and he tentatively decided that maybe he had judged its little inhabitant a bit too harshly at first. Maybe he'd give her a chance. Maybe she wouldn't be _completely_ awful. And maybe life wasn't _totally_ ruined just yet.

He'd make his final decision once the baby was out in the world and hopefully not taking everybody's attention away from him. Later that day, he picked out one of the most expensive Lego sets in the entire toy store, taking advantage of the whole "buy whatever you want" thing, and he also helped pick out a little pink stuffed bunny that was officially Adelaide's first toy. All in all, it was a pretty good day.

Later on, as they walked out of the toy store and headed back towards the new car to head back to the tower, David looked up at Summer and signed a question to her that had been bugging him more and more as the day had gone on. He didn't understand why she suddenly paled a little and started laughing nervously.

"How did I uh... get a baby in me?" she repeated, looking to Bucky for help, but all he did was widen his eyes and shrug with mild panic. "Um... uh... well, you know... when a... man and a woman, um... are married... well, they don't have to be married, but we are, so... yeah. Um... but when they love each other a whole lot and..."

David furrowed his brows in confusion as she rambled on. What did _that_ have to do with anything?

"Uh... they um... sometimes they... make a baby."

... _Make_ a baby? "How?" he signed, which made Summer groan and look at Bucky with wide eyes as she mouthed, "_Help_!"

"Uh..." Bucky half-stammered, blinking and trying to answer this apparently very difficult question. "Yeah... it's like she said. When two people love each other and... spend... time... together... they uh..."

David squinted. Why was this question so hard to answer?

Bucky swallowed and blurted, "They kiss and... hug? They hug... a lot. And then..."

"And then God puts a baby in the woman's belly," Summer finished hastily.

... Now David was _thoroughly_ confused. Babies came from hugging?! He'd just hugged Wanda the day before!

"Oh, no no, not _that_ kind of hugging," Summer assured him once he had started to panic a little. "It's uh... grown up hugging. Nothing you need to worry about for a long time. Now get in the car, time to go home!"

David eyed her warily but hopped into the car anyway, clutching his box of Legos and wondering why grown ups were so weird. Summer closed the door, and through the window, he saw her look at Bucky with wide eyes and start whisper-yelling at him. Bucky held up his hands and shrugged, whisper-yelling back with a smile, and then Summer groaned and covered her face with her hands. Bucky laughed and put his arms around her, kissing her cheek as he smiled and said something that made her smack his shoulder but start laughing with him anyway.

What a bunch of weirdos. David shrugged and focused on his new Legos, feeling at ease for the first time in weeks. Time would tell how this latest change would go, but for the moment, he felt okay. And that was one thing that hopefully _wouldn't_ change.

**A/N: Soooo yay, we're officially back on my usual Monday updating schedule :D I think I should be fine now to stay on track, so hopefully no more two week breaks :) Also this week I'm going to try to get the epilogue for After Class done, so if you're a reader of that, keep an eye out. But anyway, on to the most important thing this week: EEEEEEEE BABY! :D Now, I know that some of you were rooting for a particular gender and even certain names, but I've had this particular baby planned with midnightwings96 for a looooong time lol and we also picked out the name a long time ago too, so there wasn't a lot of room to really do any of that. But I hope you'll all be happy with the gender and the name anyway, and the middle name and why they chose Adelaide will be fully addressed soon also :) In any case, thank you guys so much for your reviews and for reading! One of the anons asked this week when Bucky and Summer's anniversary of being together would be, and after wracking my brain to try to figure it out because keeping timelines straight is my ultimate weakness lol, I came to the conclusion that I honestly have no idea, so we'll just have to stick to wedding anniversaries in the future :p sorry about that, but it's really the best I can do. So hopefully that's not too important of a detail for anyone :p**

**Thank you all again, and thank you to midnightwings96 for being amazing as always :D I'll see you all next week!  
**


	44. Chapter 44

Late one night in the master bedroom of their new home, Bucky was packing and Summer was snuggled up under the covers with her laptop, clicking on the latest of a small wave of new comment she'd just gotten on her blog. Every time she got a new follower or comment, which lately was a routine occurrence, it was like a little surprise birthday present that never got old. She smiled as she read the newest one, and continued to smile as she quickly typed up her response.

_New comment: Hey E, I've got a question for you. I've been reading your blog for about a month and I think you're hilarious, and your family sounds so cute! I can also relate a little bit. I've got a daughter from a previous relationship, and I'm engaged to this really awesome guy, but as the wedding gets closer I just feel like I'm about to freak out. How did you know that your guy was _the_guy? I've asked other people and they all have different answers, and I was really curious what yours would be. Thanks for being awesome and good luck with your book! _

_E. B. Carey_: _Hi! First of all, thank you for reading and thanks even more for caring enough to ask me a question. I'm no expert on anything, but I can say that for me there was no single moment where I suddenly knew that my guy was _the_ guy. It was a really gradual thing. We took things super slow from the beginning, for both of our sakes, since we both had (and still have) raging trust issues. Each milestone was huge, from the first kiss to the first date and first... _other_ things, lol, and each one just made it more and more clear that I really had found "the one". One of the major things though was when my leg was crushed almost two years ago. He didn't hesitate to pick me up and carry me to the bathroom and take care of me at my grossest, and he also took amazing care of my son the whole time I was in the hospital and totally useless. That's really what it's all about, I think - finding someone who really truly supports you and treats you the way you deserve to be treated, and your kid too, if you have one. It's definitely not easy to find, and having a kid already makes it a lot harder, so if you find a man like that, hold on to him and don't let him get away. Or at least that's my two cents :) Thanks again for reading and for reaching out! Hope this helps a little bit. _

Summer hit the submit button on the comment box, grinning to herself like she always did every single time she got the chance to brag about her husband, which lately had been quite a bit. Her blog was growing in popularity and her latest commenter had been remarking on a post where Summer invited her followers to ask her absolutely anything, and to her everlasting glee, a good amount of them were actually asking her questions. And to think she was once skeptical that anyone would care about her blog enough to glance at it, let alone read it and enjoy it.

"I just kind of doled out advice to a girl who's about to get married," Summer said, closing her laptop and setting it aside as she then struggled to sit up in bed. Now twenty-nine weeks pregnant and already a full forty pounds heavier from her pre-pregnancy weight, just sitting up was an ordeal, and her belly was so huge that she'd been getting a lot of remarks asking if she was possibly carrying twins. But she felt pretty good despite being roughly the size of a whale, and she was even supposedly "glowing" now, or at least that's what the man currently packing his bag on the edge of the other side of the bed claimed.

Bucky looked up at her and grinned faintly, a lock of hair falling into his eyes before he reached up and brushed it away. "Yeah?"

She nodded, resting a hand on her belly absently. "Yup. They asked when I knew that you were the one."

He quirked an eyebrow, packing for a "trip" that she really wished he didn't have to take. "And what did you say?"

Leaning back against the headboard, her hair up in a messy knot and her eyes a little tired following what had been a long day, she pretended to wonder for a moment before she replied, "Definitely that time last week when you brought me home a McFlurry in a 42-ounce cup at three in the morning and told me that you bribed the manager with like fifty bucks to make it for me."

He chuckled. "Wow. So you didn't know until then?"

She shook her head and playfully replied, "Nah. I mean, I had my suspicions, but every time I'd start to think _maybe_, you'd take your shirt off and I'd forget what I was thinking about."

"And when I asked you to marry me?" he asked, grinning and going along with her.

"We were both naked," she shrugged and smiled. "What did you _expect_ me to say?"

He chuckled again and closed his suitcase, zipping it up as he replied, "Yeah, I kinda know the feeling."

She grinned for a moment and then dropped her eyes to the suitcase as he picked it up and moved it to the floor. Her smile became a frown as she half-whined, "Are you _sure_ you have to leave?"

He rolled the bag towards their dresser, then turned back around and brushed his hair out of his face with both hands - it was ridiculously overgrown and yet he refused to let Summer cut it, like he couldn't bear to inconvenience her or something - and made his way back towards the bed as he replied, "Every time you ask me that, I start to wonder why you pushed me to go on this mission in the first place."

She smiled a little sheepishly as he climbed into bed next to her, shifting towards him as she muttered, "Well, I just... I can tell when you're bored and itching for some action. _Action_ action, not sexy action. Although I can tell that, too."

He gave her a crooked little smile and then reached out to her, pulling her against his side with his right arm as she laid her head on his shoulder. His metal hand went to her belly, resting gently on top of it over her shirt as he murmured, "I should be back in a week. Pretty straightforward mission."

"Will you be able to call me, or is gonna be one of _those_ missions where you fall off the face of the earth the entire time and I worry like a maniac?" she asked, feeling their little daughter shift and roll a little bit.

"I'm not sure, but I'm sure once or twice I could..." he trailed off, then smiled and said, "I felt that."

"Even with that hand?" Summer grinned, and Bucky nodded before shifting and pulling his right arm out from behind her. She leaned back against the pillows as he moved in front of her, placing both of his hands on her belly just in time to feel another roll followed by a little kick. Adelaide was a very active baby, always moving and stretching and kicking, and for the last six weeks or so, Bucky had been able to feel the movements through her belly. The first time he had felt it, his eyes had lit up and his expression became so awed that it had almost made Summer cry a little bit. He was used to it now, but he still treasured every little movement that he felt, and so did she. There was nothing quite like it.

He lifted up her shirt after a moment, just high enough to expose her belly, and he chuckled as he pointed out, "You're all lopsided."

"Yeah," she smiled, peering over her belly to look down at it, "she's all pushed up on one side. I think this," she touched the left side of her belly, "is her butt."

"It must feel so weird," he marveled, running his hand over the swollen and quite large baby bump. She was almost as big as she was with David at full term, and she'd only _just_ entered her third trimester a week earlier. She blamed it on her _ridiculous_ appetite, which she blamed in turn on Bucky's super-DNA.

"Sometimes," she replied. "But mostly it's just really awesome. And sweet." She reached her hand to Bucky's hair, putting a few stray pieces behind his ear, then said more quietly, "I'm gonna miss you."

He glanced up at her, then laid a sweet, innocent kiss on her belly before moving back up so that he was beside her once again. Her hand still in his hair, he leaned in and kissed her lips just as sweetly before saying, "I'll be back before you know it."

She pouted a little. "That's not true. And David's gonna miss you too. We're both gonna be counting the days until you're back." He didn't say anything back to that, instead tracing the line of her collarbone with his cool metal fingers. Her eyes drifted back to his hair, which her fingertips were still working their way through, and then she couldn't help but ask, "Do you want me to cut your hair before you go?"

He shrugged. "Don't worry about it."

"But... look at it," she chuckled, sitting up a little straighter and gathering it in both of her hands. She managed to get it all in a single handful high at the back of his head, and she pointed out, "It's long enough now to where you could totally have a ponytail. _Ooh_, or even better, a _man bun_ -"

He smiled and playfully batted her hands away, his hair falling back and hitting the nape of his neck as he protested, "Stop. It's fine the way it is."

"But what if it like gets in your eyes while you're trying to sniper some bad guy?" she asked, seriously concerned. "I can cut it if you want me to. I'm not an invalid, you know. Just super fricking pregnant."

"It's _fine_," he assured her, blinking slowly in exasperation. "You should get some sleep. It's late."

She scoffed. "You're the one who's gotta get up at four in the morning and then fly to the other side of the world."

"Exactly," he grinned, reaching across the bed and and flipping off the lamp there, darkening the room save for the light from the wall-mounted TV that was still on but muted. Next he shed his t-shirt and dropped it on the floor, then lifted up the covers to slide under them next to Summer, who immediately snuggled up to him as closely as she could with her belly in the way.

"What am I gonna do a for a whole week without you," she groaned, kissing his neck as his right arm held her closer.

"Work... eat... sleep... unpack some more... the usual," he joked as she sighed and then started kissing his shoulder. "Try not to be _too_ insatiable while I'm gone."

She whined quietly and looked up at him. "Don't even remind me how much _that_ is gonna suck."

"Poor baby," he teased, left hand trailing up and down her side, stroking the still-bare flesh since the bottom of her top was still pulled up. He shifted on his side to get closer to her, kissing her softly before murmuring, "Guess you'll have to keep yourself happy for awhile."

She groaned. "That's like getting used to having Starbucks everyday and then having to downgrade to Folgers. _Old_ Folgers, the crap that's been stuck at the back of a cabinet but never gets thrown away just in case."

He couldn't help but laugh a little bit. "That's pretty harsh."

"It's the truth," she muttered, sliding her leg with his under the sheets and running her hand along his chest. "Also... is it just me, or are you getting even bigger these days?"

"Maybe," he shrugged, watching as she shifted and then grabbed his right arm to inspect it. "Not really intentional. Just have to stay balanced with the other arm."

She inspected the muscles of his arm, concluding that they were indeed growing in size, and then she muttered, "Meanwhile I'm a whale with stretch marks the size of the Canadian border."

He snorted at her hyperbole and eased her to lay back down on her side next to him. "You're beautiful. I _love_ you like this."

As his fingers ran through her hair, she squinted and guessed, "Fat, emotional, and constantly horny?"

"More like... gorgeous, strong, hard working... and the sexiest thing I've ever seen," he said with the utmost sincerity, though she couldn't help but roll her eyes a little.

"You're just saying that because of the boobs," she replied, but he was having none of it.

"That's part of it," he admitted with a little touch of a grin. "But only a part. A very small part, honestly, compared to everything else."

She smiled even though it was still hard to believe him after all of this time. "One of these days you'll realize that I'll still have sex with you even without all this sweet talk."

He grinned back and retorted, "One of these days you'll realize that's not why I say it."

She smiled as he leaned in for a kiss, and her fingers slid back into his hair as he let the kiss linger and grow into another one. She was secretly glad that he hadn't let her cut his hair, because as much as she liked it short, there was always something to be said for longer hair as well. It was soft and just the right length that begged to be pulled, and though she kept the tugs light and pain-free very deliberately, she had to wonder if a secret fondness for having it pulled was further delaying the inevitable haircut.

As their kisses grew deeper and longer, she wound her legs tighter with his and mewled quietly as his hands ran over her softly and tenderly but with clear intent. She pressed herself as close to him as she could get without putting pressure on her belly, and their kiss broke only when he chuckled and pulled away.

"What?" She asked, opening her own eyes and smiling at him.

"She kicked me," Bucky said, hand going to her belly. It was pressed softly against his abdomen, and now that he mentioned it, little Adelaide _was_ still being quite active at the moment. "Maybe she wants me to leave her mommy alone."

"Well, until she's _out_, I overrule her," Summer decided, managing to pull off her top with some difficulty. "Besides, I'm not gonna get to see you for a week, and it's gonna kill me."

He nodded, helping her get her thin sleep shorts off next as he said, "She seems so feisty. I wonder if she'll be like babies in the movies who start crying the minute the parents try to get a minute to themselves."

"Hope not," Summer said, shifting to her side so that her back was to his chest, which was their default position now that her belly was huge. He got in closer and their hands went to one another as she added, "She's living up to her middle name though."

"Rosa?" Bucky asked casually, working on getting his own pants off. "Your grandmother's name?"

"Yup. Feisty and full of energy. And trying to ruin all my fun," she joked. Then she patted her belly and said, "Just kidding about the last part, little Adelaide. By the way, Adelaide Rosa Barnes - can we just take a minute to appreciate how fricking awesome that name is?"

"It is," Bucky agreed, now naked enough to get down to business and kissing her neck as she sighed and forced her mind back to sexy things rather than grandmother and baby things. But the transition wasn't the easiest thing in the world.

"Okay," she said, hand going to his hair and taking a handful of it as he got a handful of her swollen breasts, "say something sexy to get me back in the mood."

"Something sexy?" he repeated, amused as he nipped at where her neck met her shoulder.

"Yeah," she nodded. "You're so good at it. And I accidentally kinda killed my own mood."

"All right." His lips left her neck to graze her ear as he murmured in a voice that was deliberately thick with need, "You're so fucking gorgeous, baby. You _really_ are. I'm gonna make you come over and over and give you something to think about when you're alone with just your own hand over the next week."

Her blush was instant, and so was the rush of blood to parts of her body that were instantly right back on track. "... That works," she squeaked out. "My _God_."

But he wasn't quite done yet. "Don't wait for me to come back," he told her, kissing behind her ear and grinding softly against her from behind while his hands were _everywhere_. "I know how much you need it. Don't deprive yourself just because it's not as good. Think about me when I'm gone, take care of yourself. Understand?"

"... Okay," she replied a little shakily, sure that she would never be fully used to the way that he spoke to her in moments like these.

"Good girl," he groaned, slipping his hand down lower until she bit back a moan and sighed instead. "Now let me take care of you while I still can."

He didn't have to tell her twice. She relaxed against him and gave in, and for the rest of the night, in their new bed inside their new bedroom, surrounded by new furniture and boxes that were still yet unpacked, they savored one another while they still could before Bucky's job separated them for a little while. It was just life, after all, and absence _did_ make the heart grow fonder.

They stole two hours before sleep overcame them both. He left only a few hours after that, kissing her goodbye quietly without waking her and then slipping out of their room to tell David goodbye as he slept down the hall in his own new room. Then Bucky was gone, flying off with Steve and Sam on the mission in Europe, focused fully on the mission objectives but, in his heart, already counting the hours until he could be back home.

* * *

The nice thing about being a working mother with both a day job and a book in the process of being published was that Summer never lacked for things to do and therefore wasn't one to sit around and pine while Bucky was gone. She stayed busy and upbeat, working and shuttling David back and forth from school and spending time at the tower or Paul's house when she didn't feel like going home to her otherwise empty new home.

Bucky didn't call for the whole first week, and she expected that, because he usually wasn't able to communicate much when out in the field. But when the eighth day came and he still wasn't home, she got a text from a strange foreign number stating simply, _Not done yet. Maybe another week_.

She had gotten that message in the middle of the night, after a day spent trying not to worry but fretting anyway. She had then sighed and dropped her phone back on the bed, resigning herself to another week without him. She'd live, of course, but _man_, did she miss him.

Two days after that, Summer dropped David off at school in the city and then headed for the tower, asked there casually by Natasha through a text she'd gotten the night before. She stopped at a donut shop and got a half dozen of the most disgustingly sugary kind available - all for her - and scarfed down three by the time she made it to the tower's private elevator. The sad thing was, she was _still_ starving.

Purse under one arm and her donut bag crunched under the other, Summer made sure there weren't any crumbs in her hair as the elevator dinged to a stop. The doors opened and then she walked out on to the floor that used to be her home, then immediately stopped in her tracks and let her jaw drop.

"Holy... _crap!"_

She was not expecting little pink balloons hanging over the big kitchen table and a bunch of pastel-wrapped presents, and in the middle of it all, a rather impressive three tiered cake decorated in pink and white and bows with a cute little fake pair of pink baby shoes sitting on the top tier.

"Dammit!" she heard Darcy curse as she came rushing out of the hall. "Everything's not ready yet! You're early!"

"I... sorry, but... oh my God, is this a surprise baby shower... thing?" Summer asked incredulously, stepping closer to the table even as Darcy tried in vain to keep her away from it.

"Duh, but we didn't think you'd actually get here until like eleven and it's barely ten!" Darcy sighed, straightening up the presents. "I've got an 'it's a girl' banner I still need to hang up. Why does this always happen every time I try to surprise you with something?"

Still gaping at everything, not to mention the cake that looked like it had probably cost a couple hundred dollars, Summer asked, "... Did _you_ do all this?"

"No, Nat too, and Wanda's here somewhere, but the real mastermind was -"

"... Oh, do _not_ tell me she saw before everything was ready!"

Esteban's unmistakably sassy voice rang out behind Summer, and she turned around with a big smile on her face even as he put his hands on his hips and frowned at her. Nicolo rounded the corner at the same time, smiling as Esteban scolded her, "Do you _always_ have to be early to _everything_?"

"... Sorry?" Summer muttered, voice suddenly wobbly as her eyes watered. "Oh my God, you guys, I'm gonna cry like a baby."

Esteban sighed and then came closer to her, opening his arms and gathering her into a hug before the waterworks started. "Yes, yes, let it out, sweetie."

"You don't understand," she sniffed, pulling away and turning her head as she gestured to the table. "This is... just... I never had a baby shower with David because I was alone, and..."

"Well, you're not alone anymore," he smiled, patting her shoulder. "Now sit down, my feet are hurting _for_ you."

She laughed a little breathlessly and managed to wriggle her way on top of a chair, but then Natasha came out of the hallway next and Summer all but jumped off of the chair to maul her with an enormous hug of her own.

Once she had also attacked Darcy and then Wanda too once she also emerged from the hallway, Summer was still blinking back happy tears and then marveling as she looked at the rather impressive amount of gifts, "There's so much! And the cake - it's beautiful!"

"That was my contribution," Nicolo smiled proudly. "I know a lady who does really gorgeous cakes for a lot of weddings I do, and I came up with the design and got her to make it. I think it turned out perfect."

Summer's eyes widened and she looked again at the cake before looking back at Nicolo, then targeting him next for yet another oversized hug. "I love you. I _love_ you, and I love all of you, and I'm crying _again_."

It took her some time, but once she managed to rein in the emotions and allow both Nicolo and Esteban to physically make her sit down at the table again, she wiped at her damp eyes and found herself wishing that Bucky was there. Of course, baby showers weren't traditionally dude-friendly events, but she just wished that he could see how people cared about her and their baby to throw all of this together for them.

"So," Natasha said, taking the seat closest to her, "Pepper was supposed to be here, but she had to go take care of something at the office. She'll be here later with her gift, because she insisted that she _had_ to be there when you open it."

"Okay," Summer smiled excitedly. "That's totally fine with me. So... what exactly happens now? I've never even _been_ to a baby shower, so..."

"Neither have I," Natasha admitted with a smile, "or any of us besides Esteban, so I defer to him."

"Yes, wise decision," Esteban grinned, standing at the head of the table where all of the presents were. "First things first. Let's move the enormous pregnant lady to the couch so she can put up her big swollen feet -"

Summer furrowed her brows and immediately protested, "Hey!"

" - And be comfortable while we get down to business."

"My feet are only a _little_ swollen," she informed him as she got up and trudged to the couch, the others grabbing the gifts and carrying them towards the living room. Most of them, anyway, as Wanda made most of them simply float there.

Once she was seated _again _and the presents were all ready and waiting on the coffee table in front of her, Natasha sat at her left and Esteban at her right, and Darcy was examining the gifts to determine which to give her first. That was when there was a sudden jarring _boom_ right on the very top of the roof, or at least that was what it sounded like, and it made everyone jump out of their skin - even little Adelaide, who Summer swore jerked awake from a brief nap in her belly right then.

"The hell was that?" Natasha asked, echoing everybody's thoughts as she got up to go to the window and peer out of it. She made it there just in time, apparently, because her expression of confusion gave way to amusement just before she glanced at Darcy and said, "I can't believe it. It actually worked."

Darcy's eyebrows shot up. "No way!"

Summer was officially lost. "What worked? What was that?"

Wanda, equally confused, noted, "It sounded like that time Thor landed on the roof and almost broke the penthouse."

"You're right," Summer said a bit slowly. Then she watched Natasha's grin widen a little as she made her way back to the couch, and Summer stared at her wide-eyed. "... Why are you smiling like that?"

"No reason," Natasha shrugged, grin falling off of her face and pure innocence replacing it. But Summer knew her far too well to fall for such an act.

She kept pestering Nat for an answer, but she soon got one in the form of the elevator dinging and the doors opening to reveal the surprise visitor. Every head in the room turned to see who it was, and once they did, it remained an eternal mystery as to who squeaked the loudest, Summer or Esteban.

"Hello, my friends!" Thor smiled brightly, dressed in his more casual Asgardian garb and carrying a gold-wrapped box in his rather huge hands. "Am I late for the... ah... event?"

Summer began to flail and tried to get up _again_, but Natasha held her still while Esteban jumped up instead. While Nicolo looked like he might hyperventilate - he would likely _never_ get used to being acquainted with Asgardian royalty - Summer smiled so widely it hurt and exclaimed, "What the... but... holy crap, you came here for my _baby shower_?!"

"Ah yes, baby shower, that is what Hemidall called it," Thor smiled, letting Esteban take the gift from him and put it with the other presents.

Summer then ambled to her feet and rushed happily to Thor as he strolled closer, giving him her biggest hug yet even though it was a bit difficult with how huge he was and how gigantic her belly was. "I can't believe it!" She gushed as she pulled away. "Did someone else yell at the sky this time to invite you?"

"Yes, that would be Lady Darcy," Thor replied before looking her over. "You look wonderful, my lady! Very... full of life and... glowing!"

She smiled but raised her eyebrows. "They do that 'you're glowing' lie thing on Asgard too?"

"It is no lie!" he insisted. "I am sorry that I have been away for so long. I have missed all of you greatly, but I have been... busy."

"But you came for my baby shower," she marveled, almost getting teary again. "And you're a dude and dudes don't even like baby showers! I love you!"

Thor laughed as she hugged him again, and then he was helping to lead her back to the couch as he asked, "Is the baby coming soon?"

"I could see how you'd think that," she said as she eased back down on the comfy cushions, "since I'm a whale, but I've got over two months left."

"Ah, I see," he said, taking a seat next to Nicolo, who then looked at Esteban and widened his eyes and visibly held back his inner freaking out. Thor looked around and said, "I take it by all the pink that the baby is a girl?"

She nodded and beamed, "Her name is Adelaide Rosa. Adelaide because it's classic and old fashioned and Bucky loved it, which made me love it, and Rosa because it was my grandmother's name and she was awesome and raised me."

"Wonderful!" he smiled back, before gesturing to his gift and saying, "I do hope you like the gift that I brought. I had some help in choosing it from a very good friend, so I think you will."

"I'm sure I will," she waved, turning her eyes towards the gift and then pausing. "Is it... wrapped in... like... golden silk?"

"Yes!" he chirped, like that was totally normal.

Darcy muttered, "And here I wrapped mine with cheap wrapping paper from the dollar store."

"Let's save Thor's present for last," Natasha decided, plucking one of the smaller gifts first. "Since I imagine everyone else's will look pretty sad in comparison."

Summer scoffed, but now that everyone including one very special surprise guest was present, she finally got started on the first phase of the shower: digging into the gifts and leaving giant mounds of wrapping paper everywhere.

The presents ranged from very much needed items to utterly adorable ones that made all the girls go _awww _and the men smile. There was a baby swing - a nice one - that was from Sam, an even nicer bouncy seat that was from Steve and Natasha, and a fluffy, tiny pink dress from Darcy that would make Adelaide look like a newborn fairy-baby, and Summer _loved_ it.

Clint had sent a gift as well, a gigantic teddy bear with a big pink bow around its neck, and it was the single largest present of all of them. As Summer cooed over it, Natasha explained, "I had to talk him out of choosing a limited edition action figure of himself. Luckily, he knows when to listen to me."

"That's definitely a good thing," Summer chuckled and was then handed Wanda's present next, which was flat and somewhat heavy. She looked at Wanda and smiled before she began to open it, and Wanda smiled back and only spoke once the wrapping paper was ripped off and Summer was carefully holding the item in her hands.

It was a picture frame. The borders were made of wood that was painted in both pink and blue, and words engraved in a kid-like font stated softly, _Big brother, little sister_. There was no picture in the frame yet, of course, but it was incredibly sweet and Summer looked up with a surprised smile on her face, not missing the significance of the gift coming from a girl who had been the little sister by twelve seconds of a brother she had lost nearly two years ago.

"I wasn't sure what to get," Wanda explained. "But I went with Natasha when she was shopping for a gift, and I saw that and liked it."

"I love it," Summer assured her sincerely. "_Thank_ you."

Wanda smiled back and nodded quietly, and Summer only had a moment to admire the frame more before there was a gentle _woosh_ of wind behind her. She knew that woosh, and when she glanced behind her, she smiled when she saw Vision landing gracefully on the floor behind the couch from wherever he had just floated in from. He smiled at her and asked, "Are we giving our gifts today?"

"Yes!" Thor answered for her, and what followed was what she could only call a bro-reunion as the two Mjolnir-worthy beings greeted one another like old friends who occupied a highly exclusive club.

After, Vision walked closer to Summer and sat down on the couch after Wanda scooted over and made room for him. He was as quiet and thoughtful sounding as ever as he said, "I apologize for the simplicity of my gift. It is the smallest and cost me nothing to make, but..."

"It's okay!" she assured him with a nod. Then she paused. "You _made_ something?"

He smiled and handed her a tiny little silver box. It wasn't wrapped, and when she lifted the lid to find a simple USB stick inside, she looked up and listened as he explained, "When I first... came to _be_, I had a very difficult time sleeping. I wanted to stay awake and learn and explore, and I found it very challenging to turn off my mind and simply fall asleep. From what others have told me, I understand that children can be the same way. What helped me was music."

"Music?" she repeated curiously.

He nodded. "The music on that device was given to me by Tony. He said that it is the same music that Dr. Banner would listen to to stay calm and balanced. It helped me sleep as well."

"_Oh_. Wow," Summer said, smiling and picking up the USB stick. "Thank you! If it can help you sleep and keep the Hulk from... being the Hulk, then I bet it'll definitely help a baby calm down."

"I'm sorry that it is not as elaborate as the other gifts," he replied.

"Oh not at all!" she shook her head. "I love it! I can tell you put a lot of thought into it, and that makes it really special, so thank you."

He smiled and nodded, and Summer happily closed the box and let Natasha take it from her, putting it with the other opened gifts. There was only a few left to be unwrapped now, and the next that Nat handed her was a moderately sized box. "This one's from just me," she smiled as Summer took it. "A very necessary thing."

"Hmm," Summer grinned playfully, quickly unwrapping the thing and opening the box up. She forgot how many non-gay men were present as she immediately went "Oooh" and lifted up the single fanciest and prettiest nursing bra she'd ever seen in her life. "Holy crap, where did you find this?!"

"I have my ways," Natasha said proudly as Thor squirmed a bit and Esteban laughed at him. The bra was, naturally, huge, a bigger size than Summer currently was since she was destined to blow up even more once the baby was born. But it was also dark and lacy and extremely pretty unlike every other nursing bra she'd ever seen or worn before, and yet it felt very comfortable at the same time. "But I thought you could use something nice and pretty."

"I don't even want to know how much it cost," Summer said, smiling at her but also cringing slightly. Natasha waved her off.

"Don't worry about it. Try it on later and tell me how you like it."

"Definitely," Summer nodded, putting the bra back in the box and letting Natasha set it aside for the time being. All that remained was Thor's present, and he brightened up and stopped looking uncomfortable once Natasha set it the gift in front of Summer.

"Okay... I'm not sure how to 'unwrap' this exactly, but..." She tugged at a string on the top of the box, and it all then came apart surprisingly easily. The silk fell away and revealed a surprisingly simple box with flaps that she gently pulled open as Thor edged closer with an excited look on his face.

Summer peered into the box and then paused as she reached in and pulled out... a little golden ball. And by golden, she meant literally made of actual gold.

"Uh... I... is this... _real_?"

"It is!" Thor's reply came booming.

She turned the ball in her hands, using both hands both because it was bigger and apparently kind of precious. "_Whoa_. But what exactly... is it?"

"It is for the baby's bed," he explained. "Here, let me show you."

Still in awe, Summer handed the ball to Thor and then blinked in surprise when he reached into the box and then pulled out another part that she hadn't even noticed. It was a small but interesting looking contraption of some kind, and Thor knelt in front of the coffee table and demonstrated how it worked.

"First, you take this," he said, fixing the second part to the coffee table, "and attach it to the bottom of the bed. Or crib, as I think you call it here."

Summer nodded. "Does it just automatically latch on?"

He nodded. "Yes. Then you take the ball," he said, "and it attaches to the first part. You can adjust it however you like, and it is perfectly safe. It will not fall on the child."

Summer nodded, watching as the ball hung over the coffee table. "Then," Thor added, "you turn this dial here on the bottom part, and then..."

Suddenly the ball began to glow, and soft little music began to play as the ball opened up and little golden figures emerged. They were not on strings, seemingly levitating and rotating in slow circles. There was a snowflake, a sun, a moon, a rainbow that shimmered iridescently and looked a lot like the Bifrost that Thor used to travel the realms. Every single person other than Thor leaned forward as they watched the thing, fascinated by the sight before him.

"There are other figures too," Thor said, smiling at the curious bewilderment on everyone's faces. "Animals, toys, things like that. You control everything with the dial."

"That is... the coolest thing... I have ever seen," Summer marveled, unable to take her eyes off of the thing. Thor chuckled and then dismantled the magical mobile, which broke the spell and made everyone pause in sudden disappointment. It was _that_ cool. Heck, Summer wanted one to put on _her_ bed.

"I thought you would like it," he said, putting the mobile back into the box for her.

"Like it? I love it!" she gushed, getting up and giving Thor another enormous hug that made him laugh. "Thank you so much!"

"You are very welcome! And like I said, I had help," he smiled, patting her shoulder. "In fact, there is a note in the box written by the lady who helped me."

She gave him a look and replied quietly, "... The same lady who helped you with my wedding gift, too?"

"The very same," Thor smiled, and Summer gulped before sitting down and tearing into the box to find the note.

It took her a few moments to get to it, now that the present part of the shower was over and she needed to give her final thanks for all of the lovely gifts. Esteban then quickly got up to start distributing the cake that was almost too pretty to eat, and Natasha and Darcy got up to get the very necessary and traditional baby shower games ready. Once everyone was briefly distracted, leaving Summer and Thor alone on the couch for a moment, she finally got to excitedly find the note in the box and immediately go a little wide-eyed just at the fancy writing on it. It was identical to the note that had come with her wedding gift, but she just couldn't get used to seeing such a thing with her own two eyes.

As Thor watched, smiling as always, she began to read the impeccable script.

_Dear Lady Summer, I hope that you and your little one will enjoy this gift as much we enjoy giving it. My sincere congratulations on your impending arrival, and my family and I wish you and your family the very best of health and good fortune. I do hope that one day I will have the pleasure of meeting you myself, as any friend of Thor's is a friend of mine as well. _

The note was signed with both the full author's name and, directly under it, a pair of initials - _A &amp; L_. A made sense, as it was the first letter of the lady's name, but _L_...

Summer looked up at Thor and puzzled, "... _L_? Who's _L_?"

Thor was well aware of her suspicions. "There are many with the initial _L_ in Asgard."

"Yeah, but... the lady who wrote this is... Loki's ex-girlfriend, right? So... but... he's dead."

"Indeed, he is believed to be," Thor replied in such a transparently ironic way that Summer's jaw dropped because he may as well had just come out and said it.

"_Holy crap_," she whispered, "_he's alive?! And he signed the note with my baby shower present_?!"

Thor glanced at the others, particularly Natasha, before replying equally quietly, "You must tell no one. The others would only worry needlessly."

Her eyes were about to pop out of her skull, and she sort of felt like she might actually explode. "I am so excited and freaked out that I might throw up."

"Try not to do that," Thor chucked.

"But... okay, so... is he still... you know..." She twirled her finger around her temple in the universal signal for "cuckoo".

Thor sighed. "It is a very long story, one that I hope I can share fully one day. But not today."

"Okay," she nodded. She could understand that. "But he must not be too insane if he's signing gift notes and _oh my God they must be back together_!" When Thor merely smiled, she whined a little and asked, "Can I at least tell Bucky? I have to tell _someone_ and he doesn't have anything against Loki. He was in a HYDRA fridge when the whole Battle of New York thing happened. He'll just think I'm silly for freaking out so much."

Thor smiled understandingly but said seriously, "Only if he will not tell any others. Especially Steve."

"Okay," Summer nodded. "Holy fricking crap, I can't believe I know this when literally nobody else on earth does."

"Yes, you should consider yourself quite special," Thor chuckled. He then glanced at her belly and said, "I will make sure to visit after the baby has come."

"Oh I hope you do," she beamed. "I miss how it was when you lived here."

"I quite enjoyed it as well," he said a bit sadly. "But... I am afraid that much has been happening back home, and I cannot stay for long. I am lucky that I managed to come here at all."

Summer nodded, understanding though she had no idea of what the heck was going on in his neck of the woods, especially now that she knew Loki was apparently quite alive. "Well... thank you again for coming and for the awesome magic mobile thing. I can't believe it. You made my whole month."

She meant every word, and Thor smiled brightly once again before Esteban returned to get the shower back underway.

After that, Thor managed to escape the clutches of girly, mildly embarrassing baby shower games with the help of Vision, and Summer put away two rather sizable slices of the painfully pretty and equally delicious cake as the games got started. She laughed and had fun, surrounded by people who cared about her and loved her enough to give her one of the traditional, happy experiences of pregnancy that she'd never gotten to have the first time around. She treasured the day even more for it, and they all understood why she thanked them entirely too much and got teary eyed at the drop of a hat.

Back home in Virginia, the only person who had ever come to visit her when she was pregnant with David was Paul. Now, here in her new life in New York, a mythical being had traveled the entire galaxy just to come and give her and her unborn child a gift, and he was only one of many remarkable people who were there to spend the day with her and have fun getting ready for the new life only a few months away from making its debut in the world.

And to think that she never would have met a single one of them if not for the man currently on the other side of the globe, tracking down bad guys and missing her as much as she missed him.

* * *

Following that unforgettable baby shower, Summer picked David up from school and brought him back to the tower to surprise him with Thor's unexpected visit. He was utterly elated, and they didn't end up leaving the tower until long after the sun had set and the night was edging on late. But she wouldn't have changed a thing, and it all served as a wonderful way to stay happily busy and free of the worry that crept into her mind whenever she didn't have much to do.

David so wore himself out chasing both Thor and Vision around the tower that he fell asleep in the car on the way home. With the trunk full of her presents and her own energy levels exhausted for the day, she left the gifts in the car to worry about the next day and gently woke David up to lead him into their house. He trudged straight to his room, face planted on the bed, and then passed out for the night, and Summer tucked him in and turned on his nightlight before heading to her own room to call it a night. It wasn't yet even ten, but she had work the next day and the thought of collapsing in bed as efficiently as David had sounded like the best thing in the world.

And so, after going through her usual nightly routine and getting ready for bed, she threw on one of Bucky's shirts that was nice and roomy for her belly and then crawled into bed, groaning gratefully and sleepily the minute her head hit the pillow.

When her phone rang on the bedside table, she seriously considered ignoring it. But then just the tiniest, slightest chance that it _might_ be Bucky calling from the other side of the world pushed her into rolling on her back and reaching for the phone. When she grabbed it and looked at the caller ID, her heart did a few happily surprised flips at the sight of another foreign number, and then she answered it hastily with a suddenly cheerful, "Hello?"

The connection was as clear as if he was calling from the middle of Manhattan. "Hey, sweetheart."

She smiled and closed her eyes at the sound of his voice, so close and familiar and something she'd missed _greatly_ over the last ten days. "_Hey_. Where are you? I didn't expect to hear from you at all."

"Believe it or not," he said, smile audible in his voice, "I am actually in a hotel room tonight."

"Oh really?" she chuckled. "Wow. Don't you usually sleep on the Quinjet or just... anywhere?"

"Usually, yeah," he replied. "Steve decided to splurge tonight."

She laughed quietly, knowing there had to be more to the reasoning than that. "Well, that's good. Sharing rooms?"

"Hell no," Bucky scoffed humorously. "He still snores like he did when we were kids."

She laughed again and snuggled deeper under the covers, Adelaide rolling rather haphazardly as Summer turned on her side, probably disturbing her sleep. "So, do I get to know what country you're in?"

"It's cold and there's two feet of snow on the ground," he muttered.

"Well that could be anywhere," she pointed out. "Do you think you'll be coming home soon? We miss you."

"I miss you too," he murmured, the richness of his voice making her skin tingle a little bit. "We should be back by the end of the week."

"I'm gonna hold you to that," she replied. "This bed is too big for just me."

"Yeah I bet," he replied, grinning faintly.

She sighed and looked around their room, still lit by the lamp next to the bed. The walls were a calming shade of aqua and decorated with large framed pictures. Most were from their wedding, one of the two of them plus David, in front of the arch and smiling happily, and another of just Summer and Bucky, leaning against Clint's barn and pressed forehead to forehead in one of Nicolo's favorite shots from the whole event. She loved the pictures, but at the moment, they only made her miss Bucky more.

"So tell me about your day," Bucky said lightly. "What have you been doing without me?"

She suddenly remembered the awesome day she'd had and said excitedly, "Oh my God - everyone threw me a baby shower today!"

She could hear his grin. "Really?"

"Yeah!" she exclaimed, before diving into all the details and rattling them off at record speed. She flew through each of the gifts, barely even letting him get a word in edgewise, at least until she got to one of her favorite parts.

"... And ooh! So after Thor showed up all dramatically, he gave me this... magical... mobile thing, that like kinda floats and has these little figurines that pop out and hang without strings or anything, and it's all made of pure gold by the way, but _anyway_, so it came with this note signed by the same girl who signed our wedding gift, and you'll never believe this - it was signed by _Loki_ too."

Bucky was silent for a few seconds. "... But Loki's dead, right?"

"No!" she smiled. "But you can't tell anyone. Thor made me promise not to tell anyone but you, and he said you definitely can't tell Steve. But from what he kind of implied, Loki's definitely alive and, I'm guessing, not insane and super evil anymore."

"Um... wow. Okay. But why would he care to sign a gift for us?"

"Because I guess he's back with his old girlfriend, who's the one that's helped Thor pick out our presents," she shrugged. "Thor didn't really confirm that one either, but I'm just assuming. But anyway, isn't that _awesome_?"

"Yeah... I guess," Bucky replied, and Summer rolled her eyes.

"I didn't think you'd be that impressed," she sighed. "But just wait until you see the mobile. It's amazing. I want one for _us_."

He chuckled again, and the sound made her smile return. "I just want to be back home. This thing has gone on way too long. Should have been home three days ago. How's David holding up?"

"He's great," she replied. "He got to spend the whole day after school with Thor at the tower. I think he's adjusting better now, with the new house and everything. But he misses you a lot. Apparently I just don't cut it on my own anymore."

"Sorry," he laughed quietly. "But I'm glad he's doing okay. What about you?"

"Oh I'm fine," she said. "I've gained seven pounds since you've been gone, which is ridiculous. But I feel good. Adelaide's moving a whole lot. We're good."

"Good," he replied. "And what about the thing we talked about the night before I left?"

She paused, genuinely having no idea what he was talking about because her pregnant brain could only remember so much. "Uh... what thing?"

"I think you know," came his answer.

"... Not really, no," she shrugged. "Wait. The night before you left. I remember us... you know... but I don't really remember..."

She suddenly froze and blushed with the force of a thousand ripe tomatoes. Scandalized, she laughed and half-gasped, "Oh my God. You're not seriously asking me if I've..."

"Yes I am," he replied, nonchalantly and totally seriously, like he was asking if she had remembered to take the trash out or keep up with any other task he usually tended to himself. "Have you?"

Squirming a little, she laughed nervously and then muttered, "Um... no?"

His sigh was heavy and unmistakably disappointed. Her eyes widened at how apparently seriously he took this. "_Summer_. You promised me you'd take care of yourself while I was gone."

She closed her eyes, unable to believe that _this_ was what they were talking about. "I... well... I mean, I've just been tired. It's not exactly the first thing on my mind, especially not..."

"Not what?"

"... Not when you're not here," she admitted.

"I believe you, but I also _know_ you, Summer. And I know how you've been ever since you stopped throwing up every day. You're insatiable."

She cringed a little, but it was true. It was _totally_ true. She was always a little on the higher scale of horny, but with the arrival of the second trimester, she had flown off the charts and for once had made it a challenge for Bucky to keep up with _her_.

"You might think it's silly," he added, "but everything else I can trust other people to help you with. Nat's there to help you out, get you out of the house, stuff like that. I told David to clean up after himself to give you less to do. But one thing I have to trust _you_ to take care of is _that_. And you're not."

"But it's only been ten days," she sputtered, face still aflame. "It's not like it's a dire thing like... eating or sleeping, or..."

"Summer," he cut her off, an authoritative tone to his voice that made her freeze and listen. "You promised me. Didn't you?"

... Did she? Her memory was fuzzy, but she trusted him that he was telling the truth. "Yeah."

"Then you need to keep that promise."

"Okay, okay," she said embarrassedly. "Fine. I'll... do it. Some time tomorrow."

He laughed, a low little chuckle that sounded distinctly _dangerous_. Her eyes widened, her fingers fiddling nervously with the hem of the shirt she wore as he then said, "No you're not."

"... I'm not?"

"No. You're gonna do it now."

She froze again, unsure of his meaning. Did he want her to hang up and do it or... was he insinuating...

"Uh... do you mean..."

"Yes," he said, low and sure. "That's what I mean."

She pulled the covers over her head and groaned. "Oh Bucky, no. _No_, no no... I _can't_..."

"You can," he assured her, "and you _will_."

She gulped, still hiding under the cover but nonetheless growing increasingly _excited_ the more he spoke in such commanding ways. He knew how much she liked it when he got all domineering, and apparently, he could still have the same effect on her even over the phone with thousands of miles between them.

"Is David asleep?" he asked.

She pulled the cover down and sighed. "Yeah."

"Door closed?"

She peered at the doorway to double check. "Yup."

"And you're in bed?"

She nodded even though he couldn't see her. "Affirmative."

He paused for a beat, and then asked in that low voice once more, "What are you wearing?"

She bit her lip, dying a little inside. Of all the things they had done, this was a first, and she wasn't sure she was cut out for it. "Uh... a shirt."

"Mine?" he guessed.

"Yeah."

"And?"

"And... that's kind of it. Well, besides my underwear." She cringed. She already felt stupid.

"Take the shirt off," he instructed, and she didn't hesitate to reach for the bottom of the garment and pull, even though she was still incredibly nervous.

"Okay. I mean, having it on wouldn't bother me, but..."

He sounded amused as he answered, "I know, but I'd rather imagine you laying there naked."

_Oh right_. This thing kind of worked both ways. Once the shirt was off, she laid back down and replied, "Oh. Yeah. Makes sense." Then she paused and asked, "What about you? Do I get to know what you're wearing?"

"Well... I had just gotten out of the shower when I called you, so... not a lot."

She groaned, pulling the sheet back over herself and imagining him lying in bed in some random hotel room, long hair wet and smelling divine, probably just in a pair of boxer briefs that fit a little too well. The added visual of cradling a cell phone to his ear while undoubtedly smirking at her general distress wasn't helping.

"I miss you," he said, quiet and sincere. "I wish I was there with you right now."

"Me too. I'd feel a lot less nervous," she chuckled.

"Don't be nervous, baby," he replied, the term of endearment making her miss him even more. "Leave the talking to me. Just be good and do what I say, okay? Can you do that for me?"

"I... yeah," she replied, hoping that she could. Then she smiled and admitted, "You know I'm a sucker for when you get all... bossy."

He chuckled. "And I'm a sucker for when you blush and squirm right before I get you to finally drop the innocent act. Like how I know you will in a few minutes."

"Well... we'll see," she replied cheekily.

"I wish I could. But since I _can't_ see you, you've gotta let me hear every noise that comes out of your mouth. _Every_ noise."

"Okay," she nodded. "As long as you do the same."

"You know I will."

The line fell quiet for a moment, and Summer wondered exactly how they were supposed to get started, and for that matter... what were they going to actually _do_? Phone sex always seemed so weird and awkward in the movies, but this was real life and it was also _Bucky_, who had yet to subject her to anything remotely weird or awkward even once.

"I dreamed about you last night," he said, stealing her attention back from her own thoughts.

She smiled. "You did?"

He hummed to the affirmative. "It started weird. You were crying about something... muffins, I think..."

"... Sounds about right."

"But then I got you to calm down. And then I put you on our kitchen table and went down on you. You were about to scream, and then Steve fucking woke me up."

She choked a little, ears turning red as she blushed _again_. "_Oh_."

"I woke up hard as a rock but I couldn't do anything about it," he groaned. "Then we end up here at this hotel tonight and I was in the shower for two minutes before I thought about it again and... just..." He trailed off for a moment. "Then I imagined you there in the shower with me. Would have only taken me a minute to get it over with, but I wanted to hear your voice."

"So you planned this?" she smiled, head already spinning a little just from what little he'd said so far.

"Sort of," he grinned. "I knew you hadn't touched yourself since I've been gone, so I knew what I'd have to do."

"And how did you know _that_?"

"Because I know you," he replied. "Now stop asking questions and start doing what I say."

She shivered. This was a bit terrifying but also incredibly exhilarating already, and she definitely wasn't tired anymore. "Yes sir."

She'd said it half as a joke, but he seemed to like it. "Good. Now relax. Turn off the lights and get comfortable. But I don't want any covers on you."

She frowned a little as she reached over to turn off the lamp. "Why?"

"What did I say about asking questions?"

_Crap_. "Sorry."

"It's okay," he replied. "And I want the covers off because I want to picture you spread out with nothing in the way."

"Oh. Okay. All right... light's off and covers are off."

"Good. Now just keep breathing. I can tell by your voice that you're still nervous."

"Yeah..." she admitted. "Sorry, I just... don't want to sound stupid."

"You won't, I promise. I love you and it's driving me crazy already just imagining you how you are right now. I might not be able to drag this out as long as I'd like to."

"That's okay," she assured him, absently touching herself in places that didn't seem to matter. It was more nervous motions than anything, like tapping one's foot or twirling a lock of hair, only it was her hand moving along her leg or drifting along her neck. "I'm... I need it, so..."

"Yeah, because you were bad and didn't do what I told you to do," he scolded her lowly, the clear lust in his voice making her thighs clench automatically. "See what happens when you're bad?"

"I was just... tired..."

"No excuses," he replied. "Now... are you relaxed?"

"A little," she said, though even that was generous.

"Okay. Okay, now... just lay back and close your eyes. Keep breathing. Where's your hand?"

"On my chest, kinda... under my collarbone," she replied, carefully following his commands and not even cracking an eye open.

"Tease yourself," he said, the tone of his voice making her blood run hotter even without the words themselves. "Start with your breasts. Go slow."

They couldn't even begin to fit in her hand, but she did as he said and did what she could. Her squeezes were nothing like his, her hands being considerably smaller than his and a little shaky at that moment, but it didn't mean she didn't know how to use her fingers and couldn't get the job done.

"Feel good?" he asked.

"Yeah, but it would feel better if it was your hand instead of mine."

"So imagine that," he grinned. "Keep your eyes closed. Everything you do, everything you feel, it's me. I'm there and I'll do anything you want me to. What do you want from me, baby?"

She groaned softly, mind going blank for a moment as her hand wandered down lower, over her belly. "I... _God_, just anything, really."

He let out a soft groan of his own, and she wondered if his own hand wasn't already at work, maybe softly palming at himself through what little he had on. "I just want to kiss you. Just kiss you everywhere, touch you everywhere, get you all worked up until you do that little whining thing and beg me to do more, give you what you want."

He was so good at that, at what he was saying. He'd done it so many times that she could almost feel it if she focused hard enough, and with his voice right there in her ear, it was as close to real as she was going to get that night.

"Then once I do," he added, voice lower and breath a little rougher, "it's like something in you snaps and you just... come to life, like you're on fire. I love it. I love _you_."

"I love you too," she replied, brows furrowing slightly at how breathless and strange her own voice sounded to her. But then her hand slid lower, just once, and she was so sensitive and, just as he'd said, _deprived_ that it made her gasp softly into the phone. "Oh God."

"_There_ you go," he said approvingly. "Don't stop, Summer. I bet you're already soaking wet, aren't you?"

She whined a little rather than answer with actual words, both because she couldn't and because she was too busy following his _other_ order. Then she heard him curse and, for the first time that night, _moan_, and she knew exactly what he was doing. The image in her head was incredibly vivid, especially since it was something he had let her see before, on their honeymoon, and it heightened everything she felt even more.

"Fuck," he cursed, and the single word raced through her ear and through her veins like a little stick of dynamite. "Tell me what you're thinking about right now. Tell me, Summer."

She whimpered a little, letting her legs fall further apart and slowing down the pace of her fingers before replying, "I... well, actually... I'm just imagining you... what you're doing right now."

"Yeah, you like it when I touch myself," he chuckled, far too breathlessly to be innocent. "I should do it for you more often." Then he groaned and cursed again, and she sighed and picked up the pace. "Go faster, sweetheart."

"I am," she murmured, the words turning into a quiet but lingering moan. She was doing her best to make sure that she didn't hold anything back, knowing that he relished her sounds needed them even more than usual this time around.

"Good girl," he said breathlessly. "God, you sound so good. _Louder_." She obliged, not even needing to exaggerate, because each new command only enhanced _everything_. Then he raved, "_Perfect_. You're so perfect. If I was there right now I'd..."

"... What?" she asked, wanting to know the rest of that sentence, though it had been cut off by a low groan that had sent yet another shiver of pleasure through her nerves.

"... I'd bury my face between your legs, fucking devour you," he replied, voice strained and dark and _sinful_. "I wouldn't stop until we were both a fucking mess."

She let out a shocked little moan, even though there was nothing shocking about his words and he had lived up to them countless times in the past. He was just so _filthy_ about it, and it was exactly what she needed to get closer and closer to that edge that she was now nearly teetering on.

He knew her sounds and what they meant, so the next words out of his mouth were, "Hang on for me, baby, just a little longer." She whined his name in reply, barely meaning to, and he replied, "I know, I know. You're close, I know, I can tell. Your fingers feel good, don't they? How many are inside you right now? Two?"

She merely panted into the phone, not answering and moving increasingly erratically. She was trying to hold on, but she wasn't sure how much longer she possibly could .

"Three?" he guessed next, and her faint squeak gave him his answer. "Three. _Fuck_. Keep going, sweetheart. Fuck yourself, like it's my fingers inside you."

"Bucky," she half-moaned again, trying to speak but only incoherent words coming out as her vision began to blur behind her closed eyelids.

"Hush, baby," he said softly. "Just keep going." She let out a strangled moan, her loudest yet, and its effect was instant. "Fuck, _fuck_, Summer. Come for me. Now, do it now..."

His words then became the sort of careless, deep moans that he usually muffled roughly against her neck or she swallowed with kisses, and every nerve ending in her body lit up as she helplessly followed his final command. She didn't feel like she was alone because she truly wasn't, despite the enormous physical distance between them. They were, in that moment, as close as they always were, in all the ways that truly counted and connected on levels that distance couldn't touch.

It felt like it went on and on, and when she finally rode out the last wave and collapsed back on to the bed bonelessly, it was another long few moments before either of them could say anything. Bucky was just as far gone, his breath heavy and satisfied in her ear, and Summer only vaguely noticed that her phone screen itself was actually fogged up a bit.

The first thing Summer did once she had caught her breath and somewhat returned to reality was laugh. It was a carefree, happy little giggle, and once she started, she didn't stop until Bucky laughed with her and asked, "You okay?"

"Oh, I'm _great_," she replied, stretching out carelessly in the bed and smiling like an idiot. "_That_ was great. I mean like... _really_ great."

He chuckled, sounding happy and spent, and agreed, "Yeah. You did perfect, sweetheart. _Perfect_. I needed that."

"Me too," she groaned, unable to wipe the smile off of her face.

"I know. And now I'm trusting you again to take care of yourself until I get back. I won't be able to do this with you again, so..."

"I understand," she nodded, eyes closed. "Don't worry. I'll... be good."

She knew he grinned at that. "Good. I love you so much."

Her smile managed to get even bigger. "I love you more."

"Impossible." He'd said it before, and he'd keep saying it until his dying day, she knew.

It was late now, and Summer had no idea _what_ time it was where Bucky was, but soon it was time to hang up even though she didn't want to. Sleep was annoyingly pulling at her eyes, and now that she was happy and sated, resistance was futile.

"Get some sleep," Bucky said after she yawned noisily into the phone. "I'll be home in a few days, hopefully."

"You'd better be," she replied. "I can't wait."

"Me too," he said, and she could _hear_ the sweet smile on his face. "Goodnight, Summer."

"Night, husband," she replied goofily, making him chuckle. "Dream of me again."

He groaned. "You know I will, especially after all of _that_."

She giggled, and all too soon, they had said their final goodbyes and finally hung up. Her exhaustion hit her all at once then, and she fell asleep with a smile on her face and her phone still in her hand. She dreamed of handsome assassins-turned-Avengers with filthy mouths and even filthier minds, and for the first time in her life, she woke up in the middle of the night moaning and in the middle of a very real release that left her quite bewildered and confused.

Pregnancy, over-sensitivity, and having Bucky for a husband apparently had some odd side effects, but she sure as heck wasn't about to complain.

* * *

About four days later, Bucky was still not home and Summer was sitting at the table in her nice new kitchen, sipping caffeine free herbal tea and watching Natasha work on her laptop as she sat across from her. Just earlier that day, Summer had very unintentionally clicked a link on an otherwise usually reliable website and then watched her computer have a total meltdown, which was a very bad thing because not all of her pictures nor her work was backed up, and the thought of losing it all had sent her into an hour-long crying fit. Thankfully, Natasha had been nice enough to come over and offer her tech expertise at only the price of a few glasses of wine that Summer couldn't share with her.

"Is she gonna live?" Summer asked nervously, watching Natasha tap away. David sat at their side, working quietly on his homework on the left side of the table.

"Your laptop's a she?" Natasha asked, glancing up to raise one eyebrow.

Summer nodded. "Her name is Josephine and Paul bought her for me after my house blew up and I'm very attached."

"Well," Nat chuckled, "Josephine will be fine once I'm done with her. Though you might want to get in the habit of backing up your hard drive, to save you panic attacks in the future."

"Probably," Summer nodded. "Thank you for coming by and doing this for me, you really saved me a huge headache. You're the best."

Natasha smiled and kept on working. "No problem. I haven't been here since you first moved in. The house looks good."

"Oh thanks," Summer smiled. "I've almost got the baby's room all set up, too. I'll have to show you later. I guess I've officially begun 'nesting' or whatever."

Natasha smirked a little and shrugged, "Well, I guess you had to pass the time somehow while the guys took their little _vacation_."

"Oh definitely," she snickered. "Speaking of that, have you heard from them lately? Any idea when they'll be back?"

Natasha shook her head, eyes focused still on the computer screen. "Nope. Sorry."

Summer sighed and leaned her head on her hand. "Dang it. I'm starting to worry."

Natasha shot her a look and said, "They're fine. You _know_ they're fine."

"Yeah, but... I kinda wish you were with them," Summer admitted. "Like... you're kind of the voice of reason in the middle of their ridiculous ideas, you know? And I know Sam's with them and he's pretty... normal, but..."

"Well, as ridiculous as they can be sometimes," Natasha said, leaning back from the computer and taking her glass of wine in hand, "you can trust Steve to take better care of your husband than anyone. Except for you, of course."

Summer smiled a little. "Yeah, I know. I just... I worry. It's been two weeks now and I've seriously gained fifteen pounds since Bucky left."

Natasha's eyes widened as she swallowed a sip of the wine. "Fifteen pounds in two weeks?"

Summer nodded and cringed. "I'm just so hungry. _All the time._ Plus I eat when I'm nervous and I've been more and more nervous every day. I'm as big as this entire house. Bucky's gonna come home and look at me and just see a big fat sprinkle donut with giant boobs and dark hair."

David started giggling and earned a glare from Summer. Natasha merely rolled her eyes and said, "Oh please. The looks he gives you got even more obvious the week you started showing, and they've only gotten worse since. He looks at you and sees a goddess, not a donut."

Summer considered that for a moment, then shrugged, "Maybe a goddess _of_ donuts."

That one made Natasha laugh, and Summer was smiling with her tea in hand when the sound of a car door closing outside made all three of them stop and look towards the front of the house. Summer furrowed her brows as Natasha eyed her and asked, "You expecting anyone?"

Summer shook her head, years-old paranoia getting the better of her. It was what happened when one endured having HYDRA agents knock on their door and proceed to nearly kill their child in front of them.

"Stay here," Natasha said casually, the picture of calm and cool and unconcerned as she got up and moved towards the front door. Summer and David watched, neither of them moving a muscle and Summer considering running and getting her gun just in case.

But then Natasha peered through the blinds on one of the windows, and she chuckled before calling over her shoulder, "Looks like someone's finally home."

In an instant, fear gave way to surprise and then excitement as Summer blinked, "Is it Bucky?!"

"And Steve," Natasha said as both Summer and David scrambled up from the table, the latter much quicker than the former.

Summer smiled and began reflexively trying to smooth down her hair, which was pointless because it was in a messy ponytail and beyond help. David ran to the front door and then burst out of it, and Summer came waddling to the door and stopped right at the doorway, just in time to see Bucky get out of the passenger seat of Steve's car.

It was dark outside, but the soft porch lamp cast just enough light on Bucky to make it seem like a moment straight out of some cheesy romantic movie. He was dressed in black, his favorite leather jacket and equally dark pants, and the first thing she saw was the back of his head. Normally such a sight wasn't that dramatic, but it was in this case, because his overgrown hair was in an honest to God _bun_ high on the back of his head. She couldn't believe it, especially after he'd always seemed aghast at her suggestions to put his hair up and actually _do_ something with it.

But it only got worse from there. He turned around just as David ran up to him, and it was as he looked down and smiled at his adopted son that Summed realized with the utmost shock that he had grown a _beard_ while he'd been gone. _A beard_. And a pretty good one at that, given the relatively short amount of time.

He picked David up and gave him a big hug, and as he squeezed the boy to death, Bucky looked over his shoulder and made eye contact with Summer for the first time. Her heart skipped a beat and Adelaide kicked the crap out of her, likely trying to tell her to stop being stupid and _breathe_ for both their sakes, but breathing wasn't particularly easy at that point in time.

As she gaped, Natasha came strolling through the doorway next to her and called out in her usual confident way to Steve, "Took your time there, Cap."

Then even _she_ stopped in her tracks, and Summer didn't know why until she managed to tear her eyes away from Bucky and look at Steve as he grinned and made his way to Natasha, not dressed quite as darkly as his best friend but equally bearded and _oh man _did it look good on him. _Really_ good. Good enough to make Natasha stand there and stare with rare, very open lust.

"Yeah," Steve shrugged, eating up her reaction. "Sorry about that. I'm not usually one to keep you waiting."

He then grinned and hugged his still-bewildered girlfriend, and Summer stared at them before looking back at Bucky, who had put David down and was now walking towards her with that very same maddeningly knowing look that had been on Steve's face. Had they planned this? Better yet, she asked, "Why do you guys suddenly have beards and look even more like walking sex?"

"We were in the mountains," Bucky said, eyes raking over her body like she wasn't a beached whale but rather a goddess, just like Natasha had said. He shrugged and then invaded her space with a grin. "Seemed fitting."

She just stared at him, at the loose strands of hair framing his face and the beard that she'd honestly never expected to ever see on him, and then he took her in his arms and leaned down and kissed her. It was no little peck, but rather exactly the kind of kiss she'd been hoping that he would give her when this moment came. She made a small whimpering noise and wrapped her arms around his neck, closing her eyes and ignoring David's mild gagging sound as lost her breath and felt her blood start immediately rushing to places that were not her head.

It wasn't her fault. He had a fricking _man bun_, plus a few cuts over his brow that somehow only made him look more badass, and the way that his surprise beard scratched and tickled under her lips made her instantly wonder what it would feel like _other_ places.

When he pulled away, instantly grinning again and cradling the side of her face with his hand, she had a two hand grip on his jacket and a dazed look in her eye as she vaguely heard Steve say, "He's lying. We just didn't have time to shave. And we figured you ladies wouldn't really mind."

She shook her head to the affirmative, not taking her eyes off of Bucky. His own eyes shot down again, apparently finding her overall look of maternity jeans and a white shirt with little pink foot prints over her belly quite impressive. Then he met her gaze again and said quietly, "I've missed you so much."

She nearly swooned. Meanwhile, Natasha pulled Steve's face back to her, demanding his full attention while utterly filthy thoughts danced behind her eyes. But before she could tell Steve in Russian to get in the car and take her home immediately, Summer continued to stare at Bucky and blurted out, "For a minute there I thought my water might have broke but then I realized that I was just suddenly really really _really_ w-"

Bucky laughed and kissed her to shut her up, before helpfully reminding her, "David's still hanging on my leg."

She just shook her head and brought her hands to his jaw, dragging her fingers through the roughness of the beard before squeaking, "But... but... your _hair_ and your..."

He nodded, leaning in and whispering for only her to hear, "I know. Just hold it together until we're alone, sweetheart. Be good."

_Be good_. He pulled away and she scrunched up her brows, staring at him helplessly and groaning when he kissed her lightly one more time before stepping back and leading David inside. She glanced again at Steve and Natasha, who were still half-hugging and staring at each other like they might just go at it right there on her porch in the middle of the suburb.

Summer wouldn't blame Nat if they did. Bucky looked _quite_ good with his beard, but Steve looked like he'd been born for the look and also more mature and... well... Summer wasn't about to to go down _that_ road. Besides, it was all written on Natasha's face anyway.

"Thanks for the wine, Summer," Nat said lightly without looking away from Steve, taking his hand and physically dragging him to the car. "Catch you later."

Summer grinned and called back, "See ya. Thanks for fixing Josephine!"

Steve managed to steal one glance Summer's way and smile and wave before Natasha shoved him in the car. Summer waved back and laughed, then watched Natasha get in the driver's seat and smoothly but swiftly get on the road and speed away. Summer doubted they'd even make it home before Natasha and that beard got _acquainted_.

She, on the other hand, had to wait for David to go to sleep, and as it turned out, Bucky's return had him wired faster than if he'd drank a whole Red Bull. But that was okay. She'd waited two weeks and she could wait a few more hours.

It was like Bucky had never left, and just that quick, life was finally back to normal. He regaled David with tales of the fights he'd had while away, and she couldn't quite tell if he was exaggerating or not. He told them both how at one point, Steve had tossed him his shield and Bucky had thrown it with impressive precision to knock a bad guy out of a helicopter he'd been shooting at them from. David _loved_ that one, and Summer had listened while casually and mindlessly playing with the loose strands of Bucky's hair. She just couldn't help it.

When David's bedtime rolled around, he protested but ultimately gave in when Bucky promised him that they'd spend the next day together, just the two of them, while Summer was at work at the tower. Then they put him to bed together, just like always, and Summer was all but walking on air by the time they quietly left his room, padding out into the hallway and closing the door as their eyes met and little smiles formed on their lips.

"I can't believe you're finally home," she said sweetly as he took her hand and gently led her towards their own room, only one more door down the hallway. "I thought you'd be gone at least one or two more days."

He shook his head, free hand going to their doorknob and turning it as he replied, "If the intel had been better we would have come home on time. But we got it done." He opened the door and led her through it before him, grin returning as he added, "Miss me?"

She scoffed and wheeled around to face him as he walked inside behind her, closing the door behind him. "Miss you? Oh no, not at all. Gosh, I'm just so bummed out that now I've gotta deal with seeing your stupid pretty face every day all over again."

He chuckled, casually twisting the lock on the door as he looked her over from head to toe again. "You're even more beautiful now than you were when I left."

She rolled her eyes, ignoring the flutters within from both the lock and the way that he was looking at her now that they were alone. "I'm fifteen pounds fatter. You don't have to lie, you know."

He didn't even blink or raise an eyebrow. "I'm not lying. Come here."

She bit her lip unknowingly, slowly closing the small distance between them and again admiring everything about him. The jacket was long gone, so now he was in just a dark blue t-shirt and jeans. His hair was still up and she loved it like that, though she missed the feel of it in her fingers when her hands went to his shoulders first and then his neck as his arms wound around her. He hugged her again, his beard scratching her neck slightly as he inhaled the scent of her hair and groaned lightly. "I missed you so much."

He'd said it a few times by now, but she didn't mind in the least. "I missed you more."

He laid a soft, sweet kiss on her neck, and then to her surprise, he dropped down on his knees in front of her. It turned out to be for completely innocent reasons, as he lifted up her shirt and smiled while both of his hands went to her belly. "And I missed you too, baby girl."

Summer was instantly a puddle of useless, happy goo on the floor, melted by both the sweet tone of his voice and the way that he looked upon her belly with such love and devotion that it was almost unfathomable. She couldn't believe that she'd gotten so lucky, and she knew that even when she was old and gray someday, she still wouldn't believe it.

"She's been crazy the last two weeks," Summer told him, one of her hands on top of his. "But she's been really calm since you've been home. Maybe your voice calms her down."

"Yeah?" he smiled, looking up into her eyes before leaning forward and sweetly kissing her belly. She melted all over again, and she was still flailing inside when he rose back up to his feet and placed his hand on her face, thumb swiping along her cheek as he said quietly, "I can _see_ your pulse racing in your neck."

She laughed and admitted shamelessly, "I have been dying inside since the minute you walked out of the car."

"Me too," he replied sincerely, but his words were met with a scoff. "You're so gorgeous."

This was getting ridiculous. "I'm a _house_! I've gained fifty five pounds! And look at you," she said, placing her hands on his chest and groaning as she looked him over. "You're _perfect_ and all big, and your hair like this is _ugh_ and the _beard_, I didn't even know I needed it but I needed it, and..."

She gasped very quietly in surprise when his fingers grasped her chin and raised up her face, forcing her to look him in the eye. He looked deadly serious as he told her lowly and firmly, "I'm only gonna say this once, so listen to me, Summer."

She blinked. He sounded kinda... angry.

His fingers left her chin, then slid into her hair as he slowly started walking her backwards towards their bed, though she barely noticed. "I am sick and fucking tired of hearing you cut yourself down every chance you get. I don't know if you're like this because of what that bastard did to you and I understand, I do, but I can't sit back and listen to it anymore."

"Oh, well..." His finger on her lips shushed her.

"Don't talk until I say you can."

Her eyes widened. She wasn't sure what this was or where it was coming from, but she was totally okay with it. _Super_ okay with it.

She piped down, still moving backwards slowly, and his hands drew downwards to grasp her shirt and pull it up as he continued to speak. "The only person I know who has a single bad word to say about you is _you_. Do you realize that? Everybody _loves_ you. I've heard Steve brag about you almost as much as I do. And I wasn't gonna tell you this, but I overheard Wanda tell Nat a few months ago that she was gonna leave the tower and go home before you put food in front of her door and talked to her that first night."

Her jaw dropped. She had no idea. "... _Really_?"

He took her shirt off and dropped it on the floor, nodding. "Really. And you're still not allowed to talk."

She swallowed and nodded, blinking a few times to herself as he knelt down and started taking her jeans off, one leg at a time. She held on to his shoulder for balance and didn't let go when he straightened up and resumed their walk to the bed.

"I come home to this beautiful, amazing woman who gave me a family when I had nothing, who's carrying my child and giving me a life I'll never deserve," he said fiercely, searing his words into her consciousness, "and all I want to do is lay her down and show her how much I love her. But then she opens her mouth and I just want to break something because no matter what I do, no matter what I say, it doesn't get through to you."

Then he was sitting her down on their bed, himself still fully clothed and _angry,_ and her in her bra and underwear and bewildered. She stared up at him in confusion and then followed him with her eyes as he knelt down in front of her on one knee, placing him just below her eye level.

His hands went to her legs, to the outer parts of her thighs as he said, "I know you've got insecurities, and I know they won't just go away. But what I _am_ telling you is that if anyone talked about you the way you talk about yourself, I'd beat the shit out of them and make them apologize to you before I tossed them out on the street."

Her eyebrows shot up and her mouth dropped open even more, though she remembered this time to not say anything, per his orders.

His hands moved up her belly, along the sides of it, his fingertips tickling at the stretch marks there as his eyes bored into hers. "I'm sick of it, Summer. I don't want you cutting yourself down anymore. We're gonna have a little girl who's gonna hear everything you say and then start to do the same damn thing to herself."

... _Dammit_. He was right. He was so right, and she felt like an idiot. Shame started to prickle underneath her skin, and Bucky didn't miss the way that her eyes began to shine as she blinked more rapidly than before.

"It's not your fault," he said softly, one hand back in her hair, soft and soothing. "I'm not saying this to make you feel bad. I want you to feel _good_. Remember our wedding night, when you danced for me?"

She smiled a little, nodding. Of _course_ she remembered. How could she forget?

"Seeing you like that, so confident and comfortable and just... in control. It was incredible. Just the way that you carried yourself and looked at me, like you knew exactly what you were doing to me and how much I loved you. _That's_ what I want to see in you again. That's how you should always look."

She chewed on her lip. What he was saying was way easier when she was smaller and not pregnant, but at the same time... if she was being honest, she'd spent her entire life criticizing herself and everything _about_ herself, and she was just as sick of it as Bucky himself was.

And she would never forgive herself if she unwittingly taught their unborn daughter to be the same way.

"So..." he said a little more gently, leaning in close enough for his lips to almost graze hers. "Can you do that for me? For yourself?"

She took a deep breath, holding on to the bed beneath her palms as she nodded. He grinned a little and said, "You can talk now."

She grinned back, nodding again. "Yes. You're right. I'll work on it, but... I'm gonna need your help."

"Anything you need, sweetheart," he assured her, kissing her lips so softly that it made her very bones sigh. His hands roamed gently over her, one reaching behind her back and easily undoing her bra as he murmured, "One more thing."

A faint blush on her cheeks, she watched him discard her bra to the floor and then said, "Yeah?"

His eyes rose from her breasts to her own eyes as he asked, "Were you good?"

He didn't need to say anything more. Her mind flashed to that phone call and the promises she'd made at the end of it, and as her blush deepened, she nodded. "Yeah. I was good."

He grinned and it was just the right amount of dirty and curious. "Yeah? Good. _Good_. When was the last time?"

"Um..." she fidgeted slightly, glancing up at him and smiling a little anxiously. "... This morning."

His gaze darkened and his hand in her hair tilted her head back just a little, his other hand gently groping her breast and making her body tingle as he groaned against her lips, "Tell me what you thought about."

"You," she breathed, closing her eyes as he kissed her neck. The tickle and roughness of his beard felt so different and amazing that she almost forgot to elaborate. "You, your... tongue. Everything." She took a breath and then forced out, "And you were kind of in your uniform and I was... tied up."

He paused halfway down her throat, raising his head to look up at her with the sort of heat in his eyes that made her entire body thrum with excitement. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"You know I would."

He blinked slowly, cursed under his breath, and then kissed her with a blinding, searingly hot passion. It was exactly what she had been waiting for, the moment where they would in in and everything would suddenly kick into gear and start _really_ moving. She kissed him back desperately, clutching him and clawing at his shirt and reeling under the intensity of it all. They'd gone much longer than two weeks without intimacy before, but it was the weight of his words and the look in his eye and the depth of their ever-growing love that made it as perfect and fiery as it was, at least for her.

His clothes came off before he finally crawled into the bed with her. He beckoned her to sit on his lap and they made it work for awhile despite how crowded it was, kissing like mad and hands moving everywhere, becoming familiar with everything that was new. His facial hair was starting to burn her chin but she didn't mind it, and he definitely didn't mind the extra weight that she'd put on while he was gone. He even determined where most of it had went, his hands sliding down her back and then venturing lower before he squeezed and said, "Fuck, Summer, _your ass_."

"It's huge," she acknowledged, moaning quietly as his lips trailed down her neck and his hands squeezed so hard it nearly hurt. "I had to buy new jeans again."

He groaned his approval for the new development, and the more that they touched and the more fervently he worshipped every curve and every imperfection on her body, the more that she became convinced that he truly was right and that she could let go of those nagging insecurities. She might not ever be rid of them entirely, but she could stop feeding them and start starving the power they held over her and the words that she spoke. She _could_ do it, and she decided starting right then, she _would_ do it.

She began by spurning their now-routine position when the time came and they were both ready for more. Rather than lay down on her side and take comfort over what she really liked best, she made him sit with his back to the headboard and then turned in his lap, so that her back was to his chest and her legs were straddling his hips. She took control and he gladly gave it to her, and while it wasn't easy and she could only do it because of how strong her legs had become prior to her getting pregnant, it was more than worth the extra work and effort it took to ride him like that and give them what they both wanted.

She blindly took his hair down halfway through, reaching behind his head and fumbling until she pulled the locks free. She grasped a tight handful of his hair and refused to let go, pulling on it sharply every time he hit her _just_ right, and he gasped and moaned roughly into her ear or against her neck each and every time it happened. She got the feeling that he wouldn't be letting her cut it any time soon.

It was a better reunion than she could have asked for, long and lingering into the early hours of the morning until they fell asleep safe and happy in each other's arms, where they belonged. She didn't even mind when her phone woke her up only a few hours later, ushering her into a new long day at the office, because she was just _that_ happy.

And when she ran into Natasha at the tower, in the elevator on her way up to her office, she giggled goofily when the other woman pulled her red hair aside to reveal equally red skin along her neck and chest, eventually disappearing under her shirt. Summer then showed off her own equally beard-burned skin, or at least the parts that she _could_ show, and after they laughed some more and got off on different floors, Summer couldn't believe how amazing the week had ended up turning out.

She decided to enjoy it while it lasted, because in only two more months' time, life was going to irrevocably change forever once more. Still, she absolutely couldn't wait.

**A/N: Yeah, sooo... I think if I had to sum up this chapter, it would be merely with the words "babies and beards" LOL. I have just been sitting here waiting and waiting for when I could plausibly throw a beard on Steve's face, and then it ended up getting extended to also Bucky's face, but let's face it, beardy!Steve is just... there are no words. None. And I am going to shut up about beards now lol **

**Thank you guys so much, as always, for reading and reviewing, I love you ALL and I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint :D Just as a side note, to answer a few of the last anon reviews I've gotten: to the first one, who is getting a bit annoyed with Summer these days lol, I understand where you're coming from but there's no backwards sliding or narcissistic teenagers here. If it seems that way, it's probably because I wanted to write a lighthearted pregnancy for the first time (seriously, the previous ones I've written were doozies lol) and I think that with as much as Summer has resting on her fictional shoulders, she's allowed to have a few silly or accidentally self-centered moments. David is still her top priority but she's trying to figure out how to also have a second little top priority, plus work, plus the book, plus just keeping up with every day life, and none of that is even mentioning Bucky, so... I think we can cut her a break for being so wrapped up in chocolate and wanting sex that she didn't immediately notice David's brief distress. Bucky pointed it out to her and all was well. He's equally David's parent now too and I like having him pick up on some things before Summer does now. She's only one person and is bound to miss some stuff here and there. Nobody's perfect. But he's there to help her now and I quite like that :D But in any case, I've noticed a few others also prefer AC Summer, which I think is super funny lol. I think she's just a little more carefree and less traumatized in that story, plus not a mother yet, which definitely makes a difference. But anyway, thank you for reading and for your honesty :) And now, to the other anon review which wasn't really anon because it was signed lol, to Geena :) Yeah, I miiiiiight have a reason for suddenly not talking much about Hydra anymore lol :p actually, really I imagine them post-AOU quite crippled and sort of trying to rebuild and maybe work with other baddies to do so, so they're not really doing too much at the moment (in this story lol). BUT. Trust me, there is more action coming and a LOT of serious things, and they're getting closer. But the bad guys will be different this time. Which is all I can safely say :D **

**Thank you guys again, and thank you to midnightwings96 for helping me SO MUCH and gahhhhhhh I can't thank her enough :D I'll see you guys next week! **


	45. Chapter 45

Early one morning halfway through the 39th week of her pregnancy, Summer awoke reluctantly and groggily to a loud, sudden rumble of thunder that sounded like it came from directly above her house. After blearily opening her eyes and finding the other side of the bed surprisingly empty, she grabbed her phone from the bedside table to check the time, then put it back before groaning and trying to fall back asleep. But of course, despite the steady and comforting drum of rain on the rooftop above, she was awake now and had no hope of dozing further.

And thus began a very real and very difficult struggle: actually physically getting out of bed.

Weighing in at over eighty pounds heavier than she was at the start of her pregnancy, Summer was a self-proclaimed blimp and quite the sight to behold as she struggled to sit up before literally rolling out of the bed. It wasn't just her belly that was huge, though it was utterly enormous at this point. _Everything_ was bigger, from the roundness of her cheeks all the way down to her ankles that liked to swell up and ache throughout the day. She even legitimately _waddled_ now, and her trip to the bathroom once she managed to get to her feet served as evidence of this.

She sighed after peeing for the fifth time in seven hours, dragging her bedraggled self out of the bathroom and into the hallway in search of her husband. Clad in the baggiest, most shapeless maternity clothes she owned, she put a hand on her belly and glanced down as she walked, wondering when the last time was that she'd been able to actually see her feet. She hadn't seen them in a couple months, and the fact that her legs weren't as hairy as a Sasquatch was all thanks to Bucky and his willingness to shave them for her. She owed him a _lot_ these days, even more so than usual.

Hearing tinkering sounds coming from the nursery room that was officially set up and ready to go as of a week prior, Summer stopped in front of the open door and peeked inside. What she saw brought a smile to her face - Bucky on the floor, shoving little baby-proof covers on all of the unused electrical outlets on the walls. She pushed open the door fully and asked, "Get up early to finish up the baby proofing?"

Glancing over his shoulder at her, Bucky looked wide awake and unfairly photogenic with his half-pulled out bun and pieces of hair framing his face. He smiled at her presence and replied, "Well, I said I'd do it last week, but I didn't get around to it, so... seemed like a good time to get it done."

Summer smiled back and then made a beeline for the super-comfy rocking chair that sat in the corner of the room, next to the changing table and in front of the closet. She was quite proud of the room and how well it had come together, and she had no shame in how disgustingly _pink_ it all was. The walls were a pale, pretty shade, all of the accents a slightly darker one, and of course, most of the clothes in the closest and a great deal of the toys were also pink. If Adelaide came out and decided that she hated pink, they were totally screwed.

"You know," Summer said, rocking the chair slightly, "you could have waited awhile longer to do the outlets. She won't be getting near them anytime soon."

Bucky shrugged, popping in the last few covers. "Well, just in case she's a little... enhanced, and starts crawling early..."

Mindlessly rubbing her belly a little, Summer made a face and said, "I hope not _too_ early. Like can you imagine a four or five month old crawling? It would be super creepy. Or if she's one of those weird kids who talk in complete sentences at one. One of Paul's kids was like that. Gabriel, the boy. He was like eleven months old and would say 'Mama hungry, give me boob-boob'. So weird."

Bucky chuckled quietly, getting up and heading her way. "Weird because of the talking or weird because the kid was asking for it?"

"Oh the talking, definitely not the second thing," Summer replied, leaning up and happily taking his soft kiss when he leaned over her chair to give it to her. After, she asked with sudden curiosity, "Does breastfeeding weird you out? Like as an old man who was born a century ago?"

He shrugged indifferently. "No."

"Was formula even around back then?" she asked, squinting. "Have you ever even seen a baby being nursed? Like maybe your sister?"

"... If I did, I don't remember," he replied. "Why?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. I've just been sitting here for the last few months babbling about nursing bras and breast pumps and nipple cream and all this boob-related stuff and I never stopped to think that maybe it was all new to you."

"It is," he replied with his brows slightly raised, now leaning against the changing table. "That pump thing looks scary."

"I hated pumping before," Summer nodded with a smile, agreeing. "It feels super weird."

"Then why did you get one?"

She paused before answering quietly, "Well, it'll help a lot if we ever need someone else to watch her, and then you can also feed her sometimes if you want. I figured you'd like that."

He smiled at that. "Yeah. I would. I've never fed a baby, but..."

"It's easy," she assured him. "Really." Then she reached out and took his hand in hers, metal on her soft flesh. "Thank you for doing this. And for everything else. Like putting the crib together, helping me paint, putting the changing table together, organizing the closest while I sat on the floor and ate ice cream..."

He smiled gently and gave her hand a soft squeeze. "Least I can do. You're the one doing all the work."

She couldn't deny that, and even _breathing_ these days felt like work, considering how little room she had in her own body to actually fill up her lungs with air. But she was damn close to the homestretch, and soon it would all be over and their baby would be in her arms and finally out of her over-stretched uterus.

Her mind drifted to what life would be like when the baby came, her eyes going to the crib along the other side of the room. Bucky noticed the frown suddenly on her face and asked, "Something wrong?"

Their hands still linked, she quickly shrugged and shook her head. "No."

He gave her a look. "_Summer_."

She rolled her eyes and smiled. "Fine. I was just wondering how to ask you something."

"What?" he nudged her, expression innocent, like she had no reason in the world to hesitate.

"Well... David kinda always slept with me, when he was a baby," she replied. "And I'm not saying that our baby should, since... you know, metal arm, and you still have nightmares sometimes, but... I kinda really want to put her little bassinet in our room, next to our bed. For the first few months, anyway." When he didn't have anything to say to that, she hastily added, "It would be easier than getting up in the middle night and coming all the way here, and it'll give me peace of mind, knowing she's next to us. I don't think I'd be able to sleep without her in the same room."

He stared at her blankly, as if he was still waiting for her question. She blinked at him, and then he said, "Was that it?"

"... Yeah?"

Relief sank in as he smiled and let out an exhaled chuckle. "You were nervous to tell me _that_?"

"Well," she squirmed a little, irrationally embarrassed, "I don't know. I guess I thought that you're a guy and therefore might not want a baby in our space. Because I would get that if you didn't, but -"

"She's been in our space for the last, what, nine months now," he pointed out with a smile. "I don't want her far away, either."

Summer smiled and then, after taking a relaxing breath as best she could, tugged him closer until he was leaning over her chair again. Her arms went around his neck and she said, "I swear, you just get better and better. It's almost disgusting."

"Sorry," he grinned before kissing her softly, one of his hands going to her belly and the other ending up in her unbrushed, pulled back hair. He pulled away and she asked him a question as he turned his eyes to her belly, his hand gently rubbing the top of it.

"You work today, right?"

He nodded, looking up to meet her eyes. "I go in a few hours."

She nodded, brushing his loose strands of hair behind his ears with her fingers. "Think you could, um... try to help me start some... contractions... before you leave?"

He didn't hesitate to give her a slightly devious little grin, but he did point out, "You know I will. That never seems to work, though."

"But it's fun trying anyway, right?" she grinned back. "Sex is _supposed_ to be really good for getting contractions going. Plus your sperm helps get my cervix soft so it'll dilate."

Bucky nodded, smiling and furrowing his brows at the same time as he replied, "We really need to work on your dirty talk."

"Sorry," she giggled softly. "But first can we eat? I'm starving and my back hurts and I kinda want to lay down in bed and eat."

He sighed, pretending the requests were a heavy burden as he helped pull her to her feet. "Breakfast in bed, then sex afterwards. Anything else, Princess?"

"Actually yes," she smiled, now standing in front of him. "When you come home, can you stop at that candy store that David likes and get me one of those big candy apples with the M&amp;Ms all over it? Two, actually, and then a bag of candy corn for him. Please?"

"So breakfast first, which... what do you want?" he asked, leading her back into their bedroom.

"Uh... just give me like... four of the pancakes I made yesterday. With whipped cream. And syrup. And a giant thing of orange juice. Like just bring the whole jug."

He nodded, opening their door and taking her inside. "Okay. Pancakes, orange juice, then sex, and later, two of those gross candy apples and a bag of candy corn for David."

"Yup," she said cheerfully, climbing into bed and smiling at him brightly. "Thank you _so_ much. I know I'm being lazy, but..."

He shook his head, giving her one last chaste kiss before he pulled away a few inches and said, "You've earned it, sweetheart. Just relax. I'll be right back."

She smiled and then watched him start to draw away, but then he stopped and turned back to her, brows furrowed and expression inquisitive. "Why _does_ sex help start contractions, anyway?"

"Oh, well, it's the... not the actual, you know, mechanics of it, but the... the um..." She blushed like an idiot and then used her hands to mime something like a bomb going off. "The... boom."

His eyes widened in amusement. "The boom."

She nodded, face on fire. "Yup."

"You're publishing a book with _three_ sex scenes that _you_ wrote, and you can't even say 'orgasm'?"

"Oh God no," she shook her head, cringing. "I don't think I've ever said that word in my life, and you _know_ it's not in the book. I used much more flowery terms like... I don't know, just other things."

"Yeah... well start thinking of how many of those you want before I leave," he said, giving her a look before heading on his way, towards the door. "'Cause I don't mind being late to work, but you should see the looks I get when I am. Everybody knows."

She smiled, laughing a little when he smiled back at her before disappearing around the corner. Over the next several hours, she ate her breakfast to her heart's content, cuddled with her husband who didn't mind one ounce of the extra weight on her frame, and then was left dazed and highly satisfied by the time he got dressed and left for work. His efforts did get some contractions started, but they weren't the real kind, just the 'practice' ones, so Summer eventually just sighed and finally got up for the day once David woke up and demanded her presence.

She was just ready to hurry up and have the darn kid, but said kid seemed to be rather comfy where she was.

* * *

Later on that day at _work_, which he had not been late to after all, Bucky began to get the feeling that Steve was hiding something from him. Not something particularly major, necessarily, but something that was important enough for Steve to keep giving him odd looks and changing the subject before disappearing towards the facility's holding wing.

He finally got a straight answer outside of the wing's doors from Natasha, who had been leaving when Steve was going in.

"We're transferring Rumlow to D.C. tomorrow," she said, a slight roll of her eye giving away how silly she thought it was for Steve to keep it from him. "We haven't gotten much useful information from him since we first captured him a year ago. He's got very expensive lawyers and he's technically under the FBI's protection while the prosecutor builds the case against him."

Brows furrowing, Bucky wasn't sure what to ask first. "Why are we just now handing him over?"

"Believe it or not, the Feds consider our facility more secure than their own," Natasha said with a hint of a smirk. "And they didn't mind letting us try to gleam more info while we could. Which we didn't, though not for lack of trying."

Bucky sighed and glanced at the doors. He had honestly thought that Rumlow had been transferred months ago. "So what's the big deal about today?"

"Steve's giving it one last shot," Natasha explained. "He's in the interrogation room while Wanda's on the other side, basically reading Rumlow's mind."

_That_ made Bucky pause and stare at Nat in sudden concern. "Whose idea was _that_?"

"Wanda's," Natasha replied. "Why?"

Bucky didn't answer. Instead, he turned and let the retinal scan next to the door identify him and let him through the doors. At least that was the plan - as it turned out, he didn't have clearance for that part of the facility.

He turned and glared at Natasha, who merely shrugged and said, "That was Fury's call. Don't look at me."

"Let me in there," he said simply.

"Why? What are you gonna do?"

Rather than answer, he shot her a question of his own. "Who worked with him on the side he really believed in?"

"Maybe that's why you should stay out here," Natasha replied.

"And if it was someone from your past, from the Red Room?" Bucky asked. Natasha paused then, exhaling lightly, and he knew he had won.

Just then, Clint walked past them in the hallway, glancing at them and saying in a slightly high-pitched voice, "We're ex-Russian assassins and we like to stand around and speak in the mother tongue so all these uncultured Americans can't understand us. We're _so cool_!"

Natasha snickered and Bucky watched Clint walk away, slightly confused until he realized that he'd done it again and hadn't even realized he'd been speaking another language with Natasha. It had happened before, quite a few times, and each time he hadn't noticed until afterwards. Oh well.

He looked at Natasha again, and she gave him a look before stepping up to the retinal scan herself. The doors opened a moment later, and she walked inside first as he followed her from behind.

"Just don't kill the bastard, okay?" she said, leading him down the hallway.

"Take all my fun," Bucky muttered under his breath.

* * *

"I'm sorry, I just think this is really funny," Summer snorted, sitting on the floor of her living room with her back to the couch behind her. "The first wedding I'm officially doing the design on, and the bride wants a winter wonderland theme."

Flanking her were Esteban and Nicolo, the former of which pointed out as she searched for decorations on her laptop, "Yes, I know. That's one of the reasons why I thought of you. Your entire life is a winter wonderland, so who better to put it all together?"

"More like her _bed_ is a winter wonderland," Nicolo said quietly before Summer made him

laugh by gently smacking his arm.

"Hey, simmer down, there. Besides, it hasn't been a wonderland since like... forty pounds ago," she said, squaring her shoulders as she started scrolling through packages of fake snow. "How many guests are invited to the wedding?"

"125," Esteban replied. "And what? Don't tell me there's fizzle in the sizzle."

Summer paused and had to stare at him a moment before his meaning sunk in. "Oh! Oh no, no. We're good there. I'm just saying, we've been stuck using the same position for like two months now, and ever since the baby dropped, _oh my God_ it feels weird when he's... ya know..."

"In there?" Esteban guessed, and Summer nodded.

"Yeah. So not really a wonderland so much as... lovely but repetitive and sometimes really uncomfortable... land," she shrugged.

"You poor thing," Esteban replied half-sarcastically. "I have so much sympathy for you. Nicolo, aren't you just _full_ of sympathy too?"

"So full I can barely stand it," he nodded.

"Incidentally," Esteban told Summer with a wave of his hand, "he said the same thing last light, under much different circumstances."

It went right over Summer's head until she stopped and suddenly exclaimed, "Oh my God!" Esteban cackled with laughter while she said, "Well, thanks for putting an image in my head that I'll never get out."

"You are very welcome, sweetie," Esteban smiled. "So, when are you evicting this kid?"

Summer sighed and leaned back against the foot of the couch, ignoring the computer for now. "I don't know. I hope soon. I've been trying everything to get contractions started - taking walks, exercising as much as I can which isn't much, _other_ things."

"Sex?" Nicolo guessed. "I had to hear all about this when my sister was close to having her baby. Talk about images you'll never get out of your head."

As Nicolo grimaced, Summer shrugged and replied, "Well, it does work. We did it today before he went to work, but it only started the fake contractions."

"Fake?" Esteban repeated confusedly.

"Braxton-Hicks contractions," she clarified. "They're like practice ones. Not the real thing."

"Are you sure?" Nicolo asked. "Are they still coming?"

"Yeah," she shrugged again. "But they don't hurt. They just make my belly feel really hard. Trust me, I remember what real labor feels like." She widened her eyes and shuddered at the memory.

"Well, my sister said the same thing, believe it or not," Nicolo replied, "and she ended up having her baby in my parents' kitchen."

Summer stared at him and quickly replied, "That is _not_ happening. I'm not that delirious. And I am not having this baby anywhere but the birthing center I'm shelling out five grand for."

Esteban inhaled sharply. "Five grand?"

"It's a really great place," she replied. "I love the midwife. The room I reserved has a jacuzzi tub and lots of room, and most importantly, they respect our privacy and have no idea my husband's a super wanted fugitive."

"That's always good," Esteban nodded. "Now you need to hurry up and have the baby, because I can so see this -" he gestured to the three of them huddled together, "becoming a thing."

"A thing? What kind of thing?" she grinned.

"Just imagine it," Esteban said, looking ahead into the distance - which was just the living room wall - and dramatically holding out his hand as if to show them a new world. "The three of us together, a wedding dream team. Event planning and design plus photography. All any bride needs to make her big day beautiful, and take away the stress of having to deal with angry caterers and bitter cake-bakers herself."

Staring at the wall as well, Summer tilted her head. "You know... that's actually... a good idea."

"Isn't it?" Esteban said with glee.

"I cannot count the times I've heard a bride say she wished that I offered more than just photography," Nicolo nodded. "It would be a great opportunity."

"Yes! And you would do most of your work from home," Esteban pointed out to Summer. "And then on the wedding days, you could just leave the baby with Winter Wonderland or strap her to your back and go."

"... But are you sure?" she squinted. "I mean, I'm barely even starting the work on this wedding. I might suck."

Esteban paused and gave her a hard look. "You have been Stark Industries' event planner for how long now? Hmm? Designing parties and even _balls_ for the rich and famous? Organizing benefits? Schmoozing with the Mayor of New York City and the Governor and even _Bill Clinton_ that one time -"

"Okay, okay," she sighed. "I get it. And by the way, I did not _schmooze_ with Bill. I just kind of lurked and eavesdropped while he told Tony all about his recent trip to Belize without Hillary."

"That scoundrel," Esteban grinned. "But see, exactly my point. Weddings for you will be a piece of cake. Just consider it a little extra income that you can spend on... I don't know... what _do_ you spend money on?"

"Food, mostly," Summer admitted. "Bucky eats like a horse and so do I lately. Then there's rent and the car payment and David's school and other bills and clothes and baby stuff and furniture and insurance and -"

"See, so a little extra money never hurts," Esteban pointed out.

"Yes, and the best part is seeing the bride's face on the big day," Nicolo smiled. "There really is nothing like knowing that you helped make someone happy on one of the most important days of their life."

Summer smiled back and then glanced back and forth between both men. "Are you sure you guys shouldn't be in sales? Because I'm pretty sure I'm sold."

Esteban clapped happily with glee. "Yay! Now let's get back to work before you go into labor."

Summer laughed and scoffed at the same time, placing her hand on her belly and feeling it harden up with another "practice" contraction. It got _really_ hard at the peak of the contraction, but she still didn't think anything of it. She got back to work, expecting to be pregnant forever and not letting herself get her hopes up that anything would be happening soon.

* * *

When Bucky caught up to the interrogation room, both he and Natasha fell silent upon walking inside and finding Wanda on their side of the two-way mirror. She was standing completely still, eyes closed and brows knit tightly in concentration, and Bucky glanced into the glass to find Steve talking and Rumlow, not surprisingly, staring at him and saying nothing.

A woman who could literally read a person's mind was obviously someone that any interrogation team would covet greatly, but it was a skill that Wanda used sparingly for good reason. Bucky wasn't sure that he liked this, her getting inside the mind of a madman and trying to look around it for the sort of useful information that he had thus far refused to give up. She was young and still getting used to her powers and testing their limits, while Rumlow was much older and arguably HYDRA's most fervent believer. He wasn't in it for the money or for revenge or any other personal reason. He was in it because he truly believed in it and wanted to change the world, and his mind wasn't one to be lightly entered into.

He and Natasha watched quietly for awhile, saying nothing and watching everything carefully. The first twitch of Wanda's finger on one of her crossed arms didn't escape either of their notices. Next her breathing started to become a little more labored, heavier as her eyes clenched more tightly shut, and Bucky's instinct to move forward and make her stop was instant. Natasha's hand shooting out and stopping him made him pause, but only for a moment.

Wanda's eyes opened, glowing red - the deepest scarlet he'd ever seen in her otherwise light green eyes - and she began backing away from the glass with a sort of daze about her, like she wasn't seeing what was in front of her but rather whatever was transpiring in her own head. Maybe it was simply a result of how much she felt like family ever since David had decided that she was the best thing in the world, or it could have been due to how much Bucky despised the very idea of the mind of someone he cared about being compromised, but he ignored Natasha's latest warning and headed straight for Wanda.

He said her name and reached out his right hand to her arm, and that one touch triggered her self-defense instincts. With one swift, reflexive wave of the same arm he'd touched, she blasted him into the interrogation window, powerful enough to shatter the bulletproof glass and shocking her out of the trance while he hit the floor along with a thousand tiny shards of glass. He'd had worse, of course, and though it hurt like hell, he got up as quickly as he could to help Wanda as she stared at what she'd done and blinked in deep confusion.

On his way to her, Bucky got one look into the holding room as Rumlow and Steve stared back at him before Natasha hit a button that closed up the window with a reinforced steel panel. Apparently, they had a very efficient backup plan for if the glass shattered like it just had. As the window closed, Bucky felt the familiar stir of rage inside at his former handler's face, but he shoved it down to deal with it later.

Gently, he grabbed Wanda's arms and got her to look at him rather than the pile of glass on the floor. "What happened?" he asked, seeing the lingering but slowly fading red color in her eyes as she blinked and breathed heavily still, just barely out of the throes of whatever had happened to her. "Wanda, what happened?"

"I... I was in his head, I was... looking for something we could use. But..."

"But what?" he urged her, Natasha watching closely from just behind him.

"I don't know. It was horrible, I can still feel it... feel _him_ and... I wasn't just seeing his mind, I was _in_ it and I could feel it and..."

"Try to calm down," he said as comfortingly as he could. "It's over." Then he glanced over his shoulder at Natasha and said. "You never should have let her do this."

"She volunteered," Natasha replied.

"She volunteered for HYDRA too," Bucky pointed out. "Doesn't mean she _should_ have."

"No, she's right," Wanda said, pulling away from him. She was still trembling but her eyes were mostly free of red now. "I didn't give them a choice. I wanted to do this. I was fine until I... looked _deeper_ and... I felt his rage, his hatred, and... there was so much death and killing. He _likes_ it..."

Unsure of what else to do, Bucky hugged her the way that he'd hug David after a particularly bad nightmare. He gave Natasha a still-disapproving look as he did, and then Steve walked out of the holding room with a look of great concern on his face.

"What happened?"

"She got a little too deep into Rumlow's head," Natasha replied. "Wasn't pretty."

"I'm sorry," Steve told Wanda as Bucky let go of her. "I never should have let you -"

"None of you _let_ me do anything," Wanda replied, clearly sick of the hand-wringing following the incident. "This was my choice. None of you control me."

"Of course not," Steve said, eyes flickering to Bucky as Wanda briefly calmed at his sincere tone. "I understand. Did you find anything useful?"

She looked down and shook her head. "No. But I can tell you that he will never tell any of us anything. He believes in HYDRA too much. He will die for his cause before he gives up one name."

Steve sighed. "Figures. Thank you for trying. It was very brave of you, Wanda."

Wanda nodded, furrowing her brows before glancing at all three people in the room and saying, "He hates all of you because he... likes you."

"What?" Natasha asked you.

"He didn't want to be your enemy," she clarified. "He liked working with you and Steve. He thought he could somehow convince you both to join his side."

"Well then, he's obviously as delusional as we thought," Steve remarked.

"And you," she said, looking at Bucky. "He _admired_ you. He thought you were underused and... the closest thing I can say to describe what he felt is that he wanted to be partners. Lead HYDRA together, once they won."

Bucky stared at her, his anger making another appearance deep inside. But Steve was the one who felt _rage_ at her words, and the proof was the murderous look in his eye as he stared a hole into the wall that Rumlow was sitting behind.

"Come on," Natasha said, gesturing for Wanda to follow her out of the room. "You've risked enough for one day. Let's go get something to eat."

Wanda nodded, looking up at Bucky and giving him a look that he understood as one of quiet gratitude. Then she followed Natasha out of the room, leaving Steve and Bucky alone as the door clicked shut behind him. The slight glare that Steve instantly got from Bucky came as no surprise.

"Look, before you start yelling at me..."

"Would _you_ want to get inside of his head?" Bucky asked simply. "She's already been through hell and she -"

"I didn't want her to do it either," Steve interrupted. "She's not exactly the type of woman to let anyone tell her what to do."

Bucky sighed, deciding to just let that one go for now. If only the people he cared about weren't so stubborn and oblivious to their own well being...

"Let me talk to him," Bucky said after a moment of silence.

Steve looked at him in mild incredulity. "You heard her - he's not gonna give us anything. There's no use."

"Yes there is," Bucky replied. "Let me talk to him."

Steve seemed uncertain, both of Bucky's motives and if he should give in to his request. Bucky didn't feel hurt at all by this, since even he wasn't totally sure what would happen once he walked into that room. But what he did know was that he wanted one last word with the man before he was thrown inside a federal prison for the rest of his life.

"You're not really giving me a choice here, are you?" Steve asked.

Bucky shook his head. "But I'd do the same for you."

Steve's expression softened then, just before he sighed and headed towards the door to where Rumlow sat in chains. Bucky followed him there, and just as the door opened, Steve told him quietly, "Be careful."

Bucky nodded before walking inside. Steve shut the door behind him, and Bucky's gaze immediately went to Rumlow, who was sitting on a steel bench behind a steel table, shackled to the floor and looking distinctly unsurprised to see him.

There was a lot that Bucky wanted to say and do to the man, who had been not only his handler and a recurring face in some of his worst memories, but also the man who had blown up Summer's house and nearly killed both her and David. He didn't deserve to live, but Bucky had spared him the last time they'd met, and he wasn't there to kill him now. But he knew he'd want to the minute Rumlow opened his mouth.

He wasn't wrong.

"Hey, pal."

Bucky tightened his jaw and held back the instant wave of anger in his veins. Rumlow wasn't worth it, and to remind himself of this, he looked at the wedding ring on his right hand finger as he walked towards the table. He sat on the other side as he looked up at the former HYDRA agent, saying quietly but evenly, "I know you're not gonna give me a damn thing, so I'm not gonna interrogate you."

"Then what are you gonna do?" Rumlow asked, tone light and curious. "You gonna kill me before I get to check out my fancy new cell in D.C.?" Bucky shook his head, so Rumlow then said, "Ah. So you must want answers, then."

"What do you think I want answers to?" Bucky asked.

"What _don't_ you want answers to?" Rumlow chuckled, the scars around his eyes crinkling as he smiled. "You wanted answers back when you couldn't even remember the questions."

Bucky's frown became a scowl at those words, and a question then came to him. "Fine, you want a question? How could you sit there and watch what they did to me when you supposedly 'admired' me? How does a human being watch something like that and do nothing?"

Rumlow didn't flinch. "Because you were important. You were serving your purpose, and your purpose was way beyond mine back then. To be honest, I envied you."

Bucky stared at him in disbelief.

"_Yeah_, they treated you like shit, treated you like a weapon instead of a person. That was _your_ fault."

"My fault?" Bucky repeated quietly, almost flabbergasted by the mere suggestion.

"If you hadn't fought HYDRA every chance you got, you would have been leading the whole damn thing. They wanted you to be a lot more than what you were. But every time they'd take you out of cryo, you'd only last so long before they'd have to wipe you and start over. They tried to have you train new recruits back in the 80s, but it didn't work out so well."

Bucky glared at the other man hard enough to inspire great fear in anyone else, but Rumlow seemed incapable of fear in his current state.

"Have you remembered that one yet?" Rumlow asked, leaning forward slightly. "I wasn't there, of course, but I heard about it. Pierce had just gotten you from the Soviets. He was a lot younger back then. He thought you had potential that was being wasted and that the Russians just hadn't known how to use you properly. So he started out small, with training exercises with some of his new agents. You killed two of them before he made you stop. Wanna know how he did that?"

The answer was no, but Bucky couldn't say a word.

"Think about it," Rumlow teased. "Who did Pierce look like back then? Young guy, clean cut, blonde hair, blue eyes, former military. Ring a bell?"

Bucky was now quite literally shaking with rage, but he was doing his very best to hide it.

"It's true," Rumlow shrugged, leaning back. "But after that, he put you back on ice and only brought you out to do his dirty work. My thing always was, if I could just get Cap on our side, then you wouldn't need to keep getting wiped over and over. He'd be all the motivation you needed to do the job. And the two of you would be unstoppable."

Despite his anger, Bucky laughed. "You thought you could get _Steve_ to work for HYDRA?"

"Well, he kind of already was, wasn't he?" Rumlow grinned. "But no, you're right. It was a stupid idea. Shame, though. You guys could have changed the world together."

"We already did that once," Bucky replied. "Nothing stopping us from doing it again."

Rumlow eyed him for a moment. "You know what I think is funny? You think you're free, right? That you're not a weapon anymore, that you're your own person. But look at you. You're still a weapon. You just switched sides to the losing team."

"You're the one in shackles, not me," Bucky replied.

He laughed. "Yeah. But I'm not the whole of HYDRA. Neither was Strucker. There's always more of us. And we're always watching and waiting. We're patient." His eyes flickered to Bucky's fist on the table. "Nice ring, by the way. How was the big day?"

That was the point at which Bucky's rage threatened to turn _blinding_. "One fucking word about her and I swear..."

"My men always wanted the job of tracking your girl," Rumlow said conversationally, like he wasn't digging his own grave deeper with each word. "Some of them were pretty rough. You should be thanking me for only assigning the ones I knew would keep their distance. If I hadn't, poor thing might not be in one piece."

Just the barest insinuation of what Rumlow was implying had Bucky seeing red and all but jumping to his feet, grabbing Rumlow by the throat and trying to toss him against the wall. When the shackles prevented this, Bucky tore them out of the floor with his metal arm and _then_ slammed Rumlow to the wall.

"You answer me or I'll rip your fucking head off," Bucky growled as the other hand struggled in his metal chokehold. "You said HYDRA's still around and always watching. Are they watching her?"

"How would I know," he choked and sputtered. "I've been locked up here for months."

Bucky yanked him forward and then slammed him back into the wall, causing a resounding cracking sound of his skull hitting the steel. "Who's in charge with you and Strucker gone?"

"You _know_ I'm not gonna tell you anything," Rumlow replied, still struggling. "You're wasting your time."

Bucky did indeed know that, but he didn't care.

"And you're _not_ gonna kill me," Rumlow added. "You didn't do it before and you won't do it now."

"We'll see about that," Bucky said before picking him up by the throat and throwing him into the corner. He knew he only had a certain amount of time to do this before Steve came in and stopped him, so as pointless as it may have been, he had to finish it quickly.

Rumlow merely _laughed_ like the crazy bastard that he was, all but welcoming the pummeling that was coming his way.

* * *

Work all but forgotten for the time being, Summer was losing a round of Mario Kart to her seven year old son and two very competitive friends when her lingering contractions started to gain more and more of her attention. They still didn't hurt, but they were coming often enough that she began to secretly time them on her phone in between playing.

It turned out that they were quite regular and only five minutes apart. After the end of one race, Esteban glanced over at her phone and asked, "Are you timing what I think you're timing?"

"Yeah, but I still don't think they're real," she said, shrugging a little. "They'll stop in a little while."

"Whatever you say, crazy lady," Esteban said. "I don't want to end up delivering your baby here on the floor, using my nice expensive shoelaces to tie off the cord."

She scoffed. "You won't. Hey, help me up so can go pee."

Esteban quickly obliged and so did Nicolo, each taking her hand and helping her get up to her feet. She was exhausted by the time that she was finally standing, but then she felt a distinct and very memorable _popping_ sensation deep within her abdomen, and one considerably large gush of water later, Summer froze utterly still and went pale.

"What? Are you okay?" Nicolo asked, both men immediately noticing that something was off. David turned around and looked too, eyes widening and expression becoming very obviously disgusted as his gaze travelled down to the tiny puddle on the floor at her feet.

"Um... I either just completely uncontrollably peed all over myself, or my water broke."

Both men gasped. David made a face and took a step back, lest his cool light-up shoes fall victim to the alien, clearly gross, liquid.

"Is there a way to... check?" Esteban asked, eyes the size of saucers.

"Well, considering I felt a pop before it happened and I'm not incontinent, I'm like 100% sure it was my water breaking."

Esteban cursed a colorful, long sentence in Spanish, and Summer's voice got progressively higher pitched and more panicked as she then said, "Um, okay, first of all, I'm gonna need someone to call Bucky. Then I'm gonna need someone to call my midwife. Then I'm gonna need my hospital bag from my room, some towels to sit on in the car, and _oh holy fricking crap_ now the contractions hurt!"

The men lowered her down to the couch as Summer clutched her giant belly and grimaced in pain now that the cushion of the amniotic fluid was all but gone. Breathing more heavily now as pain shot across her belly and all the way into her lower back, David came closer to her and stared in concern as Esteban and Nicolo began scrambling for their phones.

_This was happening_. Despite how convinced she'd been that she would be pregnant for at least another two weeks, apparently she was going to be giving birth within the next 24 hours, as was the medical protocol when the water was broken. When the contraction passed, she looked up at David and smiled. "Your sister's coming, kid. This isn't a drill, it's happening. Mama's having a baby. Oh _boy_, I'm having a baby."

David's eyes grew bigger, and then Esteban yelled from across the room, "Bucky's not answering!"

She groaned and then screeched, "Then call Steve!"

"I don't have his number!"

"My phones on the table, get it and call him!" she said, turning her eyes back to David. "You know my pink bag that I keep in my room?" He nodded, and she added, "Go get that for me and bring it here. I need to double check that I packed everything I need."

David quickly ran off to get the bag, and Summer's mind began to race with questions that she couldn't even begin to answer. Would the contractions keep coming or would she need medicine to have Adelaide within 24 hours? Would it go smoothly? Would there be complications? What if she had the baby super fast and she just popped out before Bucky even got to her? What if he _missed the entire birth_?!

David came back with her bag in hand as Nicolo got her midwife on the phone. He handed the phone off to her as she began looking through the bag, rattling off the latest developments to the midwife while also checking off everything she needed to take with her.

Baby's first outfit, check. Clothes for her, a hairbrush and various toiletries, extra chargers, some cash, diapers, blankets, little pink hats - all checked off the list. And perhaps most importantly, a little vial of potion from Thor's wedding gift to her.

"Okay, I'm coming right now," she said, still holding the potion. "Thanks. Bye."

She ended the call as Esteban noticed the weird little tube in her hand and asked, "What's that?"

"Asgardian pain relief potion... stuff," she replied, like that was a totally normal thing to have in one's hospital bag. "Instead of an epidural. Has anyone answered yet?" When Esteban shook his head, she half-yelled, "Then call Natasha! I'm gonna fricking kill those old men!"

As she wailed and then braced herself for another contraction that she felt coming on, David stood by her side and didn't leave, knowing that responsibility for her well-being fell on his shoulders in his father's absence. He took this very seriously, and even though he was still grossed out and not entirely sure where babies came _out_ of, he didn't budge and he even held Summer's hand through the pain.

She couldn't have asked for a better son. But if Bucky didn't pick up his damn phone soon, her husband would be going straight on her everlasting poop list.

* * *

Natasha was the first to answer her phone. She quickly made her way to Steve, who gaped at her and then quickly called Summer back on his phone that had been on silent in his pocket. Then he burst into the interrogation room, where Bucky was quite preoccupied at that moment.

He was punching Rumlow in the face, repeatedly, bloodying every inch that his metal fist came into contact with, while he yelled the same question and threat at him over and over.

"Tell me if someone's watching us or I swear to God I'll -"

"_Bucky!_"

Steve's voice was the one thing that could have made Bucky pause what he was doing and look behind him. Steve stood there, holding his cell in his hand, looking wide-eyed and breathless as he said, "There's an emergency. Let him go."

The word _emergency_ immediately made Bucky think of the worst - an accident, an attack, _something_ bad happening to Summer or either one of his kids, so he dropped the rather useless Rumlow to the floor and quickly marched up to Steve and snatched the phone.

"Hello?"

"I'm going to kill you for not answering your phone, you jerk!" Summer's voice screeched in his ear.

"What? What's going on?" he asked quietly, furrowing his brows and trying to decipher the odd look on Steve's face.

"I'm in labor and I'm in the car on my way to the midwife now!" she exclaimed.

His eyes widened and his heart suddenly dropped and started beating wildly all at once. "_What?_"

"My water broke in the living room, I was sitting on the floor and then I stood up and just _bam_. And by the way, the whole, uh, _thing_ this morning totally started contractions after all."

He blinked rapidly, mind racing as excitement and happiness replaced the anger and hatred that had been there before. "Okay. I'm leaving now. Who's with you?"

"David, Esteban, and Nicolo," she replied, and he breathed a sigh of relief. She was in good hands.

"All right. I'm coming. I'll call you back."

He then hung up and shoved the phone back into Steve's hand. Without a word, he turned around, walked over to where Rumlow was slumped on the floor half-propped against the wall, and promptly knocked him out by literally _stomping_ on his head. Having gotten _that_ out of the way, Bucky turned back around and began storming out of the interrogation room.

"You okay?" Steve asked, every bit as wild-eyed as Bucky felt inside but was hiding under his pure determination. "Is _she_ okay?"

"She's fine," he said without turning around. "I'll call you from the... baby place."

He didn't stop until Steve grabbed his arm and made him stop walking for a moment. He turned and then watched as Steve smiled at him and patted his arm. "Bucky... you're about to have a _baby_."

Despite the fact that only moments ago he'd been beating a scumbag from his past to a pulp and getting no answers for it, none of it mattered as Bucky smiled back and felt nervous little jitters fluttering within. "_Yeah_."

"Go," Steve grinned, patting his arm one more time. "Keep me updated."

"I will," Bucky assured him with another smile before turning and heading back towards the hallway, his long and quick strides matching the determined voice in his head telling him to get to his woman as quickly as possible.

Halfway through his march across the facility, he passed Clint chatting with Rhodey as they headed the way that he was coming from. As they passed one another, Clint asked, "Where're you going in such a hurry?"

"Summer's in labor," Bucky replied without breaking his stride.

Turning to watch him go, Rhodey tossed him a thumbs up and a _good luck_ before Clint half-shouted, "Be careful, man! And I call dibs on holding that kid before Nat does! I'm serious!"

Bucky glanced back and gave Clint a look that said _yeah right_, then turned forward again and didn't stop walking until he'd reached his bike in the garage. Moments later, he was speeding down the road and calling Summer on his hands-free device.

She answered halfway through the first ring. "Are you on your way yet?"

"Just got on the road," he replied, zipping down the mostly empty highway and preparing to drive like an utter maniac to get to her faster. "How you holding up?"

"I'm okay," she replied, though she sounded incredibly nervous. "We just got to the birthing center and I'm checking into my room now. You remember how to get here, right?"

"Yeah, I do," he assured her. "Sorry I didn't answer my phone. I was in the middle of something and I just... I wasn't paying attention. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," she sighed. "Just hurry up and get here. But don't go so fast that you get pulled over."

"Don't worry about me," he replied. "I'll be there. How's David?"

"Perfect. He hasn't left my side and he holds my hand every time I get a contraction."

Bucky smiled a little to himself. "Good. Knew I could count on him."

"Yeah, but I need you here," she said, voice wobbling a little bit. "I really do. I'm nervous and I wasn't expecting this and I just..."

"Everything's gonna be okay," he assured her. "Just try to stay as calm as you can. You've got that pain stuff, right?"

"Yeah," she replied. "I'm actually holding it right now, just to make sure it doesn't get broken somehow."

"Okay. Just hang on and I'll be there in..." He checked his watch and then added, "Twenty minutes."

"Twenty minutes," she repeated with a sigh. "Okay. I'll see you then."

"I love you," he said, meaning it with every fiber of his being and then some.

"I love you too. Ignore the three angry voicemails I left you when you weren't picking up."

He chuckled, changing lanes and merging on to the slightly busier highway that would take him to the birthing center. "Oh, I'm definitely listening to those later."

"Jerk," she sighed. "Oh, gotta go, I'm going back now."

"All right, see you there," he said before the call ended and he sped up to pass the three other vehicles in front of him. A driver he cut off in the process honked angrily at him, but he couldn't have cared less. He had a mission to see through to the end, and it was among the most important ones he'd ever faced in his life. Soon, in only a matter of hours, he'd officially be a father of not one but two, and he and Summer would be holding a little girl who had already forever changed their lives.

He drove a little faster, desperate to get there as soon as he possibly could. Aside from his wedding day, he'd never been so simultaneously happy and terrified in his life.

* * *

After she had hung up, Summer had been escorted by a nurse to the room that she would be giving birth in. Being a birthing center rather than a hospital, the room was both sterile _and_ home-y, and she got to climb into a perfectly comfy bed rather than a tiny hospital one before the nurse helped her get changed. Happy to be out of her clothes that her water had broken all over, she changed into a comfortable but hideous little gown that the center provided, then waited for the midwife to come back and examine her.

Everyone else got to come back first, so that meant that Summer was surrounded by one little boy and two grown men when the midwife showed up. All three male pairs of eyes pointedly shifted away from her and stayed away as the midwife, an energetic lady in her 30s named Claire that Summer adored, wasted no time in getting _in there_ and seeing what was up. Summer held still and grimaced, despising these exams as much as she'd had when she was in labor with David, but good news came of it.

"_Wow_," Claire marveled. "You're totally effaced, and I'm gonna say... five centimeters dilated already."

Summer's eyes popped open wide. "What? How?"

"How long have you been having contractions? Did you say since this morning?"

Summer nodded. "Yeah, but they were the stupid ones."

Claire laughed and sat back, letting her close her legs and thus allowing the men to stop staring determinedly at the walls. "Obviously not. You're moving right along. Where's the hubby? Is he on his way?"

"Yeah, he should be, but he might still be maybe five or ten minutes from -"

Just then, the door opened and the only thing missing from the slightly dramatic moment was a love song suddenly blaring as Summer's eyes met those of her husband, who had finally arrived and looked almost as frazzled as she felt. That fast, she instantly felt better. Her anxiety calmed down a bit and her mind stopped racing at last, now that she had him near and knew that he wouldn't be going anywhere.

"I'm sorry, I got here as fast as I could," he said, nodding quickly to Esteban and Nicolo before heading straight for Summer. He spared David a heartfelt smile before giving Summer a quick but sweet hug and kiss, then taking his seat in a small chair next to Summer's bed and asking, "What did I miss?"

"Well, she's definitely in labor," Claire smiled brightly. "She's going great. If she follows the average timetable for dilation, we're looking at about five or six hours until it's time to push."

"That's it?" Bucky asked, looking at Summer with wide eyes. His hand gently holding hers, she gave it a squeeze and smiled happily at him just before her belly started tightening with a new contraction. His brows furrowed slightly and he frowned as she looked away, closing her eyes to focus on breathing through the pain.

Once the contraction passed and Summer was catching her breath, Claire asked, "What did we decide on for pain management again?"

"An, um... herbal mixture," Summer replied, since "magical, FDA-non-approved Asgardian stuff" wouldn't exactly have gained the midwife's approval. "And I want to use the tub for sure. And get up and walk around as much as I can."

"Good, good," Claire smiled. "And you can have as many people in here as you want, but just so non-family members know," she smiled at Esteban and Nicolo, "we have a waiting area just outside. I'll be back to check on you in a bit, okay?"

Summer nodded, thanking the lady before she left and closed the door behind her. She took a deep breath, and all was quiet for a moment as she and Bucky stared at each other, a thousand unspoken words passing between them and leaving Summer feeling like she could do this now. She had Bucky, she had her family, and Natasha had texted ten minutes before that she was on her way as well.

She _had_ this. She was already half the way there, in terms of how ready her body was, and she even had Asgardian magic on standby. This was going to be easy.

She hoped so, at least.

"Nicolo?" she said quietly, looking his way as he immediately looked up and smiled when he heard his name. "Do you think that maybe... you could stay and take some pictures?"

"I don't see why not," he smiled without hesitation. "My camera's in my car."

"Thank you," she said sincerely, smile growing wider. "It would mean a lot to me to have some pictures of the baby being born. Not the blood and gore, of course, but the... you know, the pretty stuff."

"Of course," he chuckled. "I've done this before. I would be happy to do it."

Esteban sighed. "I guess I can take care of David then, so I feel a _little_ useful."

Summer chuckled, then looked back at Bucky as he rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb. Another contraction hit, stronger than before, and Summer sat up straighter to get some of the pressure off of her back. Soon it would be time to give the Asgardian potion a swig, but she wanted to progress a little further, just in case it acted like an epidural and slowed labor down.

Once it was over, she let out a long breath and opened her eyes. "_Ouch_. Okay, Bucky, help me up. I want to walk around."

He was at her side in an instant, helping her to her feet and holding her hand as she began to walk or, rather, penguin-waddle around the room. As she began the _real_ part of her labor, the part that required work, patience, and strength, the others slowly dispersed. First Nicolo left to fetch his camera, and then Esteban took David out to find some food for them both to eat. Once they were alone, walking around the room in aimless but purposeful circles, Summer found it easier to be honest with Bucky and say something she had been trying to keep inside.

"I'm scared," she said as her footsteps came to a stop in front of one of the room's several windows. Outside was a field full of flowers and greenness, a calming visual for women who were looking for a focal point during labor, but the thing that calmed Summer the most was looking up at Bucky and seeing his eyes focused wholly on her.

"Why?" he asked quietly, comfortingly tucking away the only piece of her hair not secured in one of Esteban's impressively tight braids.

"Because everything's about to change," she said, still staring up into his eyes. "You know that, right?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I know."

"We're never gonna sleep," she said. "Or have time to ourselves. Working's gonna get harder. I only have two months maternity leave, and that's _good_ for this country. And I..." She trailed off, closing her eyes and grabbing his shoulders as a contraction took hold. They were turning into doozies now, and she had to fight not to hold her breath through the all-encompassing pain. It made her belly feel so hard and tight that it felt like it might just burst, and she broke into a nauseating sweat at the peak of the contraction. But Bucky was there to talk her down from it, and his voice in her ear and hands on top of hers were everything she needed to make it through.

Once she was breathing again, he said, "I know everything's gonna be different. I know some things are gonna be hard and it won't be all... pink bunnies and rainbows," he smiled. "But that's okay. I know she's worth it. And worth a whole lot more."

She smiled warmly at him, his words soothing her nerves a bit. "Who do you think she'll look like?"

"Well... seeing as we have the same eye color and almost the same hair color, probably both of us."

Summer chuckled and shook her head. "Yeah, but like... whose nose will she have? That kind of thing."

"Hopefully she comes out looking exactly like you and nothing like me," he quipped, smiling. "Although then if she did, I'm gonna have to start killing a lot of teenage boys about sixteen years from now..."

"I hate to break it to you," she pointed out with an amused little smile, "but if she came out looking exactly like you... she'd still be super hot one day. Arguably hotter, actually."

Bucky rolled his eyes but didn't argue. "Dammit."

She nodded in agreement. "She's doomed to being hot."

"_Now_ I'm scared."

Summer laughed, just a few minutes alone with him enough to put her back at ease when the worries had begun to creep up on her. He leaned down and placed a soft, short kiss on her lips and then told her sincerely as he cradled her face, "You're going to do amazing. You're already doing amazing. Soon this is gonna be over and she's gonna be here." He paused and then repeated as if he couldn't believe it, "She's gonna be here."

She smiled and nodded, reaching up to wipe away a sudden tear that had come out of nowhere. "I can't wait to see her and hold her. I'm gonna cry just thinking about it."

And she did, but it was okay, because Bucky was there to wipe away the tear and then kiss her forehead, and Nicolo had reappeared just in time to capture the moment on camera. She smiled and then took Bucky's hand in hers to start walking again, determined to stay on her feet for as long as she could. She was still scared and she could tell that he was too, but it was the good kind of fear that they felt, not the destructive kind that they had both faced many times before.

And besides, they were in this together. She knew they'd make it through, and the reward at the end would be utterly priceless.

"And just think," he told her after they'd paused in their walk to let another contraction pass. "Once this is over, you get to have coffee again."

She groaned at the mere thought and decided then that Bucky was actually the best labor partner that a girl could ask for. Now she just had to get through it.

**A/N: I hate to leave you guys on a note like that and make you wait another week for the baby to come, but... well, I'm a jerk and that's just how it turned out this week :D Also, sorry for the late update, but I had a weirdly difficult time with this chapter. I thought I was going to have to skip a week but then I managed to finally get it all out lol. I hope you guys like it! :D thank you all so much for reading and reviewing and sticking around with this gigantic story :D **

**Also, errrr, one more note before I go :) A few days ago I got an Ao3 account, just as kind of a companion/backup account to this one, a place where I can post certain things that wouldn't fit in here, or maybe longer versions of chapters with more details of things, idk yet lol. But I have it now, and my user name is the same but just without the space, so TeamDamon, and later on today I'm going to be cleaning up and putting the final touches on a... thing... that I'm going to be posting there lol, and before anyone gets excited, it's completely unrelated to anything I have posted here. It's my first crack at a reader style fic, and let's just say that it's also my first crack at real-person fiction that I've ever had the guts to actually post somewhere lol. So basically, if any of you lovely readers would be interested in reading a Chris Evans/reader story that uhhh doesn't have a lot of plot in it (heh heh), then go ahead and, later today, look for it on Ao3. I'll just be here, hiding behind my couch forever, because I can't believe I'm actually posting it for others to see. Lol. But it's nice. Or at least I think so. I'll leave that for those of you willing to go and read it to decide lol. **

**And if THAT isn't your cup of tea, no worries! Just stick around for next week, where we all get to finally meet Adelaide :D I myself can't wait for that one. Feels like it's taken the little brat forever to fictionally get here :D Anyway, my thanks to all of you again and to midnightwings96 as well for always ALWAYS having my back, and I will see you all next week! :D **


	46. Chapter 46

**A/N: Hi everyone! I'm back, I'm alive, and I do apologize for my little unexpected month-long vacation lol. Suffice it to say that I got swamped unexpectedly with school and real life in general, and then once things went back to normal, getting back into the groove of writing LAD proved a bit difficult. BUT I'm back, and with any luck, back on the weekly updating schedule :D thank you guys so much for sticking with me, and again, I am very sorry. I would have posted a note explaining that I wasn't dead and LAD wasn't abandoned, but that's against site rules so I couldn't do that. And then I couldn't answer the anon questions either, so all in all, it was quite frustrating lol and I'm very glad to be back :D **

**My sincere and heartfelt thanks to each and every one of you for reading and sticking with me, and to midnightwings96 for always being incredibly helpful and helping me get past these rough spots when my motivation takes a hit lol. I hope you all like it, and I look forward to your feedback! (And hey, bit of self-promotion before I go lol - I wrote and finished a little Daredevil fic and am in the process of posting it, so go on over and take a looksie if you're a fan :D it's a relatively short story for me and features a new and (I hope) lovely OC, and yeah, I'll love you forever if you read lol). See you all next week! :D **

With a bead of sweat rolling off her furrowed brow and a grimace that was so deeply etched into her face that it threatened to freeze that way, Summer released the breath she'd been holding and let go of Bucky's hand as she declared, "Okay, that's it. I'm done. Gimme the magic drugs."

"Okay," Bucky said without hesitation, leaving her side as he rushed to her bag to retrieve the vial of Asgardian potion. Summer stayed where she was, leaning against one of the walls of the birthing suite and trying to catch her breath after the latest doozy of a contraction. They were getting unbearable now, not only quite excruciatingly painful but also rather sickening once they hit their peak. After nearly throwing up in her mouth with the last one, she decided that enough was enough.

As Bucky rushed back to her side, potion in hand, the door to the suite opened and Claire, the midwife, came walking back in to check on her progress.

"How are we feeling?" she asked, a smile on her friendly face as Bucky helped Summer to sit in the suite's most comfortable armchair.

Bucky handed her the vial, and Summer replied, "Like I'm dying."

"Time to talk about pain management?" Claire guessed, eyeing the mysterious vial in Summer's hand with no subtle amount of curiosity.

"Yeah, past time for that, actually," Summer groaned, glancing at Bucky as he watched her every move with great concern. He'd been like that the whole time, quiet and helpful without being annoying or obnoxious about it, and Summer couldn't have asked for a better labor partner so far.

"Mind if I check you first?" Claire asked, and Summer shrugged before leaning back in the chair, wanting to get it over with.

Claire then slapped on a glove and got to business as Summer closed her eyes and Bucky watched the midwife's actions carefully. One could never be too cautious or suspicious, of course, and he wasn't generally a fan of anyone, even a medical professional, handling his wife in such a way.

"I'll give you seven," Claire said, finishing and backing away. Summer opened her eyes and took a breath. "So you're officially in transition, which typically goes by pretty fast. Sure you don't want to go all natural? You're already well over halfway there."

Summer glanced at the vial of potion in her hand, considering her options for a moment. She _did_ like to keep things as natural as possible in general, and she had contemplated forgoing all pain relief early in her pregnancy. But then again, this stage of labor that she was currently in was the hardest, and truth be told, the allure of staying all-natural had lost some of its appeal two centimeters ago.

She glanced at Bucky, knowing that he didn't care one way or the other and just wanted her as comfortable as possible. Then, just as another contraction began to start up and painfully tighten up her belly, she made her final decision.

"_Frick_ no," she shrugged, popping the top off of the vial and downing it one gulp. It went down smooth and easily, and afterwards, she furrowed her brows and tried to figure out what the _hell_ it had tasted like. She was getting notes of lavender and mint and... a bunch of other bizarre, non-Earthly herb-like tastes. It instantly made her warm up from the inside out, like thousands of tiny little tingles slowly spreading throughout each of her nerves and instantly blocking the pain of the latest contraction.

She blinked, looking down at the empty bottle and wondering if it had really worked that quickly. She touched her belly, which was hard a rock and reaching the peak of the contraction, and oddly enough, she could still feel it from the inside. She felt the squeezing and the tightening just as she had before. It just didn't hurt.

"_Holy crap_," she half-whispered, eyes wide as she looked up at Bucky and smiled. "It worked!"

"Thank God," he groaned in relief, leaning closer to her and giving her a kiss on her temple. Claire, meanwhile, watched in slight - no, major - confusion.

"What exactly did you take?" she smiled, even more bewildered by the instant relief than Summer was.

"Oh, it's, um... this... ancient herbal... remedy thing. From... Norway." Summer smiled, hoping Claire bought the lie, which was actually somewhat true, considering. "A friend gave it to me and said it would work great."

"You must really trust this friend," Claire observed, though not judgmentally. "But I'm glad it's helping. The rest of your labor should be a little easier now, and you've been moving along so nice and quickly, I think you just might have your baby before the sun goes down."

Summer smiled brightly, hoping that would indeed be the case. It would hopefully be a piece of cake now that the pain was gone, and the best part was that she could get up and walk still, unlike if she'd opted for an epidural.

No pain and still getting to feel everything as if she really had gone all-natural? Talk about the ideal birth, she thought after the midwife left her and Bucky alone once more.

As soon as the door was closed, Summer looked at Bucky with wide eyes and squeaked, "Thor is literally my favorite person in the universe now. I mean, aside from you and David, of course, and Adelaide, but I'm going to love him forever and ever even more now. And the lady who actually made the potion. I would totally make out with them both right now if I could."

Bucky laughed and brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "I'm glad it worked. You really don't feel _anything_?"

"No, that's just it!" she marveled. "I feel everything, just not the pain! It's perfect! I'll know when I need to push, and I'll feel everything!"

Bucky paused. "... Is that a good thing?"

"_Yes_," she laughed, leaning back in the chair again and taking a breath. "Oh man. This is great! I should have drank that stuff an hour ago! I feel all warm and fuzzy and like... just _whoa_, man."

"Are you a little high?" Bucky asked with a faint chuckle, to which Summer vehemently shook her head.

"Not at all. I feel way more in control than I did before, actually. I can't even explain it. Can you help me up so I can stick my head out the window and yell thanks to Thor?"

Bucky laughed again, helping her up but replying, "You might want to wait until we're home to do that, just in case the midwife saw and figured it out."

"Oh... yeah, true. Speaking of that, how long until Steve and Nat get here?"

"They're already here," Bucky replied, holding her hand to keep her steady as she began to slowly walk across the room, not going anywhere in particular but enjoying being _able_ to walk. "They're in the waiting room with David and the guys. I told them to wait to see you until you got the pain under control."

"Oh. Thanks," she smiled, giving his hand a grateful squeeze. "And thank you for holding my hand and helping me through this. You've been _really_ great this whole time."

"I don't feel like I've done anything," he admitted as he smiled back. "You're the one doing all the hard work."

"Yeah, but the last time I did this, I only had my grandma and I was stuck in a bed with an epidural that barely worked," she told him quietly, recalling that day. It felt like it had been an entire lifetime ago that all of that had happened. "This is so much different. I'm happy this time. Nervous and a little scared, too, but mostly just _really_ happy."

Bucky smiled and leaned in closer, brushing one soft little kiss on her lips before pulling away and saying, "Yeah, me too."

She smiled back, then paused as she felt another contraction started back up. She almost began to tense up, just out of instinct, but then when no pain came, she smiled wider and said, "This is _awesome_. Send everyone in!"

"Yes ma'am," he grinned, pulling his phone out of his pocket to send a quick text doing just that.

Just a few moments later, Summer was leisurely strolling about the room when the door opened, Natasha walking in first with Steve behind her. Summer smiled fondly at their incognito personas, both in hoodies and Steve looking slightly nervous as he walked in and peered around as if expecting some kind of bloodbath or pregnancy movie cliche. Instead of that, Summer merely waddled their way and gave them both hugs, starting with Natasha.

"Wow, you look great," Nat observed as Summer pulled away, still smiling hugely. "_How_?"

"I took Thor's potion," she explained, "And I feel great!"

"I can tell," Nat replied with a small smile as Summer turned next to Steve and gave him a hug.

"Thank you both for coming," she said after pulling away from the hug, looking from Steve to Nat. "It means a lot to me."

"No problem," Steve replied sincerely. "We're all pretty excited."

Summer smiled back and then said, "If you don't mind, do you think that maybe you could give a hand to Esteban with David when I'm, you know, actually having the baby?"

"Yeah, no problem," Steve nodded seriously.

"Okay. And Nat," she said, turning to the other woman, "you don't have to if you don't want to, but... I would really love it if you could stay in here with me through it."

Natasha answered with a small smile and a casual reply of, "I wasn't going to give you much of a choice in the matter."

Summer laughed and was on the cusp of answering when the door suddenly burst open behind Steve, and then a flash of bright red hair was all the warning she had before her brother suddenly exclaimed, "I'm here! Did I miss the kid getting squirted out?"

Summer grimaced a little at the terminology, but she smiled anyway as she held up her hand and gained his attention. "Right here. No baby yet."

"Oh good," he sighed, rushing to her and hugging her first before putting his hands on her shoulders as he looked her over. "How are you? You look good! A little... too good." He blinked. "Are you actually in labor?"

"I'm in transition," she smiled proudly. "Almost there."

He raised his eyebrows. "And you're up and walking around?"

She grinned and then whispered to him conspiratorially, "Asgardian magic pain potion."

His eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets. "That does not sound FDA approved."

She shrugged. "But it works and it's perfect!"

He laughed a little high-pitched, giving away how nervous it made him, and he said, "Okay, well, let's pray your kid doesn't come out with a second head or her own magic hammer in her tiny little fist."

Summer laughed him off, then started walking around again, as another contraction came on. Surrounded by people she loved and who loved her back, miraculously feeling not a smidgen of pain, and being nearly at the homestretch of labor, she found herself in a state of excited but truly peaceful bliss. Soon she'd have her baby in her arms, and her pregnancy would finally be over. She'd finally get to look at Adelaide's little face and kiss her cheeks, and likely not put her down once until she was at least two years old. At _least_.

If she got any happier, she might just explode.

* * *

Maybe it was the questionable, enormously long list of movies that Summer had made him watch over the last few years, or perhaps it was what he'd read when he'd come across a book promising to tell one what to expect when expecting a baby, but Bucky had not expected Summer's labor to be like _this_.

He'd anticipated something along the lines of a long, drawn out, blood-soaked battle, a struggle that would spiral progressively more and more out of control until victory was finally seized and their baby was... well... _out_. Instead, Summer was relaxing in her comfy chair, Natasha on one side and Paul on the other, David now in the room as well, and Summer was all laughs and smiles as she cheerfully endured what was supposed to be the single toughest part of labor.

Bucky was as confused as the midwife was, standing next to Steve and watching the whole oddly pleasant spectacle. Steve couldn't help but point out with a smile, "Well, this is going better than expected."

"I keep expecting it to wear off any minute," Bucky admitted, watching as Summer told David to touch her belly while she was at the peak of a contraction. The boy's eyes bugged out at how hard it was, and then he pulled his hand away like he suddenly found it gross.

"I think she's good," Steve replied. Then he glanced at Bucky and said with a small smile, "Ready to meet your little girl?"

A sudden wave of anxiety of anxiety later, Bucky smiled back and said, "I hope so. I'm still nervous about how to even hold a baby without hurting it."

"You're gonna do great," Steve assured him. "And remember, just look at it like this - you're already a father, and you've already done a great job. This time you just get to do it from the very start."

Bucky nodded, appreciating the sentiment and hoping Steve was right. "Well, we'll find out soon."

"Yes we will," Steve smiled wider. "By the way, how are you doing after... today?"

Bucky paused, thinking back to that day's earlier events. He'd come straight to the birthing center after having nearly lost control beating Brock Rumlow to a pulp in an interrogation room of the Avengers facility, but now that felt like it was a million miles in the past. He also felt like a fool for doing it.

"I'm fine," Bucky muttered. "I shouldn't have done it. I knew it wouldn't get me anywhere. Or get me any answers."

"He knows how to get to us," Steve replied quietly. "What did he say to you?"

"Nothing worth repeating," Bucky replied, still watching Summer. "I'm not letting him get in my head."

"Good," Steve nodded, "because you've got something a lot better to focus on."

He really, really did. Bucky smiled when Steve gave his shoulder a pat, then smiled more when David came ambling up to him and handed him a cookie from a bag Esteban had gotten him from a vending machine. He ate the cookie and then looked again at Summer, who had said something to Paul to make him cringe and burst out in fake tears. She laughed vibrantly, high on Asgardian magic and the joy of their little impending arrival, and Bucky shared one more smile with Steve before returning to her side.

He stayed there for the rest of her labor. Another hour passed, which felt more like a party or generally pleasant and laughter-filled get together than the near-end of a woman's labor, and in that hour Summer's contractions began to get closer together and far more intense than before. She still didn't feel pain, but she began to feel very uncomfortable and got up to walk around, with Bucky's help.

The room was still full of people as he walked her around, holding her hand and letting her lean on him for balance, and she was visibly squirming and grimacing as she suddenly said, "Oh man. Okay. That's weird. I feel weird."

"What's wrong?" He asked immediately, bringing them both to a standstill and looking her over in great concern.

"I, uh..." she fidgeted, shifting on her feet and furrowing her brows as she clutched his hand tighter. "I feel like... maybe..." She then suddenly stood up straighter, eyes widening. "Not maybe. I definitely need to push. Oh God, I think I'm pushing right now."

Face suddenly full of panic, Bucky quickly led Summer towards the bed as she looked at Natasha and exclaimed slightly squeakily , "Get the midwife before I drop this kid on the floor!"

Natasha was out of the room in a flash of black and red, and Steve stood wide-eyed and useless with David as Paul hurried to Summer's side as Bucky helped to sit her in the bed.

"Oh God, this is so weird," she said, breathing faster and trying her very best not to push. "I can feel everything and I'm pretty sure she's like... _in there_, you know?"

"I don't," Bucky replied, still looking rather panicked. "Is that good?"

Before Summer could answer, the midwife was walking in and smiling as pleasantly as ever as she strolled over to the bed. "So I hear you feel like you might need to start pushing?"

"I definitely need to," Summer replied, wide-eyed still as the midwife wasted no time in checking her. Bucky didn't budge one inch from her side, and he missed the way that Steve essentially placed himself in a corner to avoid even the remote possibility of accidentally looking over at Summer, even though he wouldn't have seen anything but a sheet.

"Oh, yep," Claire announced, nodding. "You're ready to go."

"_Yes_," Summer hissed, briefly raising her fist in victory. "Okay. I'm ready. I'm so ready. Everybody out who doesn't want to get scarred for life."

Steve took that as his queue to go, and Esteban left to go find Nicolo, who had stepped out to eat and was now needed once again now that his photography services would be needed very soon. David seemed unsure of whether to stay or go, and Summer noticed this as the midwife got her baby-catching gear ready.

"You can stay if you want," she told him gently with a slight shrug. "Or you can go with Steve and wait to come back in after she's born. It's up to you." She paused. "There'll be blood, though. Remember that time we saw a cat giving birth outside of our old house?"

David made a face and then immediately turned to go to Steve's side. Summer laughed, and Steve smiled at her and Bucky both as he said, "Good luck. We'll be right outside."

"Okay," Summer smiled back. "Thank you."

After Steve left with David, Summer then looked at Paul and asked, "What about you?"

He rolled his eyes. "I've got seven kids. I'm immune to the carnage."

"Fair enough," Summer replied, turning to Natasha next. "Still with me?"

"Not going anywhere," Natasha assured her with a small smile, standing near Bucky.

Summer smiled back and took a deep breath. "Okay." She looked at Bucky, smiled even bigger as her eyes watered a little, and her hand tightened its grip on his own as she half-whispered, "Can you believe this is finally happening?"

He couldn't. He smiled back, squeezing her hand as his excitement reached an all-time high. This was happening, and the moment was almost here - he was going to meet his daughter very, very soon.

* * *

Once Summer knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that it was, for lack of a better term, _go-time_, things seemed to _go_ ridiculously quickly.

The urge to push utterly overwhelming her and taking over every nerve in her body with the singular and all-important mission at hand, Summer focused on breathing as the midwife helped to get her into a comfortable position on the bed. Since she wasn't in a hospital with an epidural, she didn't need to give birth while laying down flat on her back. Instead, Bucky helped pile pillows behind her back while Natasha and Claire both helped her sit against them. Paul sat nearby, casually texting on his phone since this all truly was basically routine for him now, and Nicolo was on standby with his camera, ready to capture all of the glory and none of the gore of the coming moments.

Problem was, Summer just couldn't get comfortable and she felt like she was going to sweat to death while also dying from the effort it was taking her not to push.

"Oh God, I gotta push," she said, voice a bit high and panicked as she squirmed. "And I'm so hot. I'm gonna be sick."

"Hang on," Natasha said, getting up to retrieve a cold washcloth in what had to have been record time. She was already back and pressing it to Summer's forehead by the time the wailing began again.

"It feels like she's gonna pop out right now, like she's right there," Summer said, watching the midwife help to carefully position her legs, feet flat on the bed and knees apart. "Oh _God_..."

"Just relax," Claire told her, the picture of calm. "She's not gonna pop out until you push. And I want you to go ahead and start, okay? Stop fighting it and just go with it, let your body do what it needs to do."

It felt like one of the best things Summer had ever heard in her life, and she immediately gave in and let her body take over. Once she did, it was one of the single most potent feelings of relief that she'd ever experienced. She understood what she hadn't had the opportunity to understand during David'a birth, which was that barring complications, the female body really did know what to do and how to take care of itself during labor all on its own.

She didn't even count to ten during that first push, instead just going until she had to stop, and once it was over she opened her eyes and sucked in a great breath of air. It was then that she realized she was holding both Bucky and Natasha's hands, and squeezing the life out of them both.

"Holy crap, that felt good," she smiled, though she quickly grimaced right after. "These pillows suck. I can't sit like this. It's like... too soft or something, I don't know."

Natasha was on the ball, looking at Bucky and telling him firmly, "Sit behind her. Let her lean on you."

He looked slightly like a deer in headlights when she said that, but he quickly hopped to it and stood up, not letting go of Summer's hand as he very carefully slid in to sit behind her. As soon as he was in position, Summer leaned against him and let out a sigh of relief. "That's _so much_ better. _Thank you_."

She meant it for both of them, and Natasha gave her a warm smile while Bucky kissed the crown of her head. He felt perfect against her, firm and grounding and exactly what she needed to feel secure and ready to continue.

"Ready?" Claire asked. Summer nodded, took a deep breath, and pushed again.

Being able to feel every last bit of Adelaide moving further down with each passing second was utterly unreal, and she would never forget what it was like for as long as she lived. Now she knew why some women went all natural for childbirth, though she did admittedly have a huge advantage over every other human female _who had ever existed _thanks to Thor and his amazing and talented friend.

"Wow," Claire said admiringly after Summer got a few more pushed out. "You're making _great_ progress. You're an awesome pusher."

Summer laughed, catching her breath and laying her head on Bucky's shoulder during her respite. She looked around, first at Paul who was in Bucky's previous place at her side, then up at Bucky himself. He was quiet but his eyes were intense, full of love and anxiety and excitement, and seeing him like that made her smile so deeply that she felt it in her bones. Then, finally, she looked at Natasha, who was still holding her hand and full of the quiet confidence that she'd had in Summer ever since they had first become real friends.

It was perfect. She had her family, the love of her life, and her best friend all there to help her welcome in a new and precious life into the world. Not a single one of them doubted her ability to do it, and each of them had played significant and irreplaceable roles in helping her grow into the woman she that she had become.

Nicolo caught the moment in a few understated, simple pictures. Once it was over, Summer braced herself, breathed deeply, and got back to work.

The next five minutes went by stunningly quickly,

First, after two more long and aching pushes, Claire announced with a smile, "Somebody's crowning!"

"Really?!" Summer exclaimed, her heart pounding in her chest not just from exertion but also from excitement. "I thought she felt like she was getting closer but I couldn't tell, this still feels so weird!"

Natasha stood up and, after looking and confirming Claire's words, said, "Yup, definitely crowning. And look at that dark hair she's got."

Summer smiled, feeling her eyes well up with tears. She looked back at Bucky, who had that same deer in headlights look as before but in a decidedly _good_ way, and then she all but squeaked, "Yay! She's not bald!"

Bucky chuckled, and Paul began to slowly glance over to see for himself. Summer stopped him by punching him in the shoulder and saying, "No. Never. Natasha's the only one allowed to see any of _that_."

"Oh please. I'm a doctor!" Paul said, holding his shoulder where she'd hit him. "_And_ I've changed your diapers!"

"And I'll kick your ass so hard you have to _wear_ diapers if you try to look!" Summer snapped. "And that goes for you too, Bucky."

He wasn't in any position to see anything anyway, but Bucky still furrowed his brows and said, "_Really_?"

"I want you to still want to have sex with me again someday, so no way," Summer explained just before she paused and widened her eyes. "Oh yeah, here comes a big one." True to her suspicions, a new contraction started up and her body automatically began to push through it.

Two very close, intense contractions later, Summer was awash, overwhelmed, and utterly consumed with the most mind-blowingly intense _pressure_ that a human being could physically experience. Claire urged her to keep going, she nearly broke both Bucky and Natasha's hands with how hard she gripped them, and she was pretty sure that she was making _very_ loud and odd noises as she pushed, but she could not have possibly cared less.

"One more push and you're done!" Claire told her, and Summer opened her eyes to look down and try to see what was happening, but she just couldn't at the angle she was in. And so, resolving to focus on the finish line instead, she took one more deep breath and listened silently as Bucky whispered in her ear how amazing she was and how close they were to meeting their baby. Then she closed her eyes and pushed one last time.

And just like that, in a flash, the pressure was _gone_. Her body having _beautifully_ done what it was made to do, everything finally reached its pinnacle as relief washed over her and she officially gave birth to her second child.

Claire immediately and without a second's hesitation placed the baby on Summer's chest, and just like that, for both her and Bucky, the world stopped spinning and time stood still. Nothing else existed but the perfect little person who now laid before them both, her eyes closed and fists clenched as both of her parents immediately brought their hands up to touch her.

Summer cried instantly, words failing her as her emotions spilled over in a moment that nothing else in the world could really ever compare to. She brought the baby into her arms as Bucky stared and slowly, cautiously, touched his right hand to the top of her head, his own eyes watery and mouth open in a stunned and indescribable state of wonder.

She had almost a full head of dark hair. Her nose was a perfect button, and her cheeks were plump and perfect. Her lips were tiny and pink, and she was so incredibly _fat_ that it was almost impossible to believe that she had been in Summer's belly only a few moments before.

Finally, after soaking up the sight of their child and shedding a few more tears because of it, Summer leaned down and kissed her little girl's cheek. Her voice was shaky and purely joyful as she finally said, "Hi, Adelaide."

It was then that Adelaide's eyes opened fully for the first time, revealing their bright blue color, and the first thing she saw in her brand new world was her mother and father's faces, full of happiness and the sort of love that words could never truly fully capture.

Then she closed her eyes tight, clenched her tiny little fists more, and let out a first cry to put all others to shame.

Claire put a blanket on her immediately, rubbing it on Adelaide's very pink skin to warm her up as Summer rubbed her back and soothed her, knowing that the crying was a good thing. She tore her eyes away from her baby just long enough to look at Bucky and share a smile with him that made her heart swell and ache even more than it already was. Then he kissed her softly and quickly, leaning his forehead against hers and whispering, "I love you,"

"I love you too," she replied just as quietly, vowing to never forget the way that he looked in that moment. He was so full of love himself, so young and innocent looking despite everything in his past that made him feel like he wasn't either thing. But here was this new life laying there in their arms, half of her and half of him, proof that their love was real and that their pasts didn't have to define who they were or what their lives had to be.

Claire cleaned and wrapped Adelaide up without taking her out of Summer's arms. As she did, Summer became aware once again of the world around her. Paul was smiling like the proud uncle he was, snapping pictures on his phone and wiping away a stray tear. Natasha was crying without an ounce of shame or hesitation, as instantly in love with the little baby as its parents were, and for good reason - she was an aunt now.

Meanwhile, Nicolo was sniffling as well, capturing the beautiful moments forever with his camera. It didn't take long for Adelaide to settle down once she was warm and snuggled securely in Summer's arms, and Bucky barely took his eyes off of her once. He continued to touch her head in wonder as Summer held her, and when Claire asked him a question, he was so out of it that she had to repeat it twice before he heard her.

"Are you ready to cut the cord?" she asked with a smile.

"Oh. Yeah," he said quietly, very carefully leaving his place behind Summer to stand up and take the scissors that were in Claire's hand. Summer watched as she showed him where on the cord to cut, and Bucky looked up at Summer slightly nervously before he leaned down and severed the last tie between their baby and the womb that had nourished her for the past nine months. Once it was done, he handed the scissors back to Claire and smiled at Adelaide, who was now wide awake and looking around in pure wonder.

It was finally over. Adelaide was finally _there_, healthy and gorgeous and utterly perfect, with all ten fingers and toes and the powerful lungs of a tiny super-soldier. Everything was perfect, and Summer finally got to have the sort of happy, uncomplicated experience that she had been robbed of when it had been David's turn coming into the world. She loved Adelaide just the same as she had instantly loved David, no more and no less, and she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that this was always how her life had been destined to go.

The hardships and the trials had been rough and sometimes almost unbearable, but they had served their purpose and had given her an incredible and beautiful son. Then life had taken a one in a billion turn and had dropped the love of her life on her front door, literally, and set her on a path that had led her here, to this beautiful, unforgettably life-changing moment.

Bucky placed one arm around her, hugging her to his side while his other arm covered hers, so that they were both cradling their new daughter. He kissed her temple, then leaned down and kissed Adelaide's forehead and smiled at her as she stared up at him.

She knew then that she wouldn't change a single thing about her past, because as rough as some of it had been, it had led her here to share this moment, this life, and this family with a man whom logic would have dictated she never should have met. But who needed logic when they had love, and an abundance of it?

Summer was exactly where she had always been destined to be, and so was the man she loved and the child they'd just welcomed into the world.

* * *

In all of his years, both the remembered ones and the fuzzier ones, Bucky had never felt anything like what he was experiencing in those incredible moments after Adelaide was born. It was one of a kind, something he never would have been able to understand or even comprehend without experiencing it firsthand.

Now here he was, at his wife's side as she held their new baby in her arms and he stroked the child's forehead with his flesh and blood thumb. Adelaide was wrapped up in a blanket, calm now and no longer crying, looking up at both of them with blue eyes that he was already sure looked just like her mother's. She was absolutely perfect, tiny and breakable and _real_, no longer an abstract thought or a theoretical little being whose arrival he had spent nine months anticipating. She was there, she was finally _there_, and he could have spent all night staring at her and been completely happy.

A lot happened during those blessedly happy first moments he spent with Summer and the new little lady in his life. The midwife delivered Summer's placenta without incident, so quietly that he barely even noticed anything was happening. Then she sewed Summer up, as Adelaide had apparently done a number on her during delivery - not that she'd noticed, thanks to Thor's potion. Then Claire cleaned up, and before he knew it, she was whisking Adelaide away for only a few moments to weigh her.

"Go with her," Summer told Bucky as soon as the baby was no longer in her arms. "Just stay with her, okay?"

"Okay," he nodded without hesitation, kissing her forehead before getting up to follow Claire. She was only taking Adelaide across the room, to a little bassinet that also served as a scale and had a warming lamp above it. He stayed at Adelaide's other side, watching quietly as Claire checked her vital signs first before turning on the scale and checking her weight.

"Wow," Claire grinned, looking up at Bucky first and then back at Summer. "She's a whopper. Eleven pounds, eight ounces."

Bucky smiled widely, looking at Summer and smiling even more as her eyes widened. She let out a heavy breath and said, "Well, I _did_ gain 83 pounds with her, so..."

"She's perfect," Claire assured her, picking the baby up now that her quick exam was done. "You did a great job, mama."

Summer smiled proudly, and then Bucky was taken by complete surprise when Claire smiled at him and said, "Want to hold your baby?"

He froze and panicked. "Oh. I, uh... I've never actually... I don't know how to..."

"You've never held a baby?" Claire guessed with a smile. "Oh, okay. Well, that's fine. It's easy, I'll show you. Just hold out your arms, and... are you right handed or left handed?"

"Right," he said a little too quickly, with a little too much emphasis on the right limb.

"Okay. So just hold out your arms, and I'll put her right in there, and you'll see how easy it is," she replied, coming right at him and giving him no choice in the matter.

He held out his arms stiffly and nervously, a thousand thoughts racing through his mind - what if he hurt her? What if he dropped her? What if she instantly hated him and screamed? - but there was no escaping his fate. In just a matter of seconds, Claire placed Adelaide right into his waiting arms, positioning her just right so that her little head rested on the crook of his elbow and the rest of his arm supported her. He brought the disguised metal arm up for extra support just underneath her, but he didn't let it actually touch her.

And just like that, he was holding his baby for the first time. She seemed even smaller in his much larger arms, even tinier and more vulnerable, but warm and soft and so incredibly _sweet_. Her eyes, which had been closed, opened up to look up at him, and he melted all over again the moment her eyes met his.

He realized something then, as he unknowingly smiled and felt his eyes get just a little bit misty. This little creature in his arms was brand new, innocent, and as much a part of him as she was a part of Summer. She had no idea who he was, what he'd done, and what his life had been, and that was okay. She was a blank slate, but even more than that, maybe she could be _his_ blank slate.

He made her a thousand silent promises as he held her, each one as sincere as the next, all vows to keep her safe and never let the horrors of either the past or the future touch her. He hoped he'd be half the father that she deserved, better than his own and better than Steve's, worthy to watch her grow and have her love.

It was a poignant, priceless moment that he'd never forget, and it was over all too soon. Eventually he looked at Summer and smiled before carefully walking back to her bed, sitting down at her side again and still cradling their child in his arms,

Summer's eyes were so full of love and joy, all but swimming in the emotions, and though she was clearly tired and coming down from the rush and adrenaline of the delivery, she was fully present and watching him hold her like she never wanted to look away.

Claire was the first to leave to give them privacy. Next was Paul and Natasha, both of whom hugged Summer and congratulated them both before they left. Nicolo went with them, and on their way out, Summer asked Natasha to bring David in to meet his sister in about five minutes.

Then the door closed, and for the first time, it was just the three of them. Summer snuggled up close to his side, her head on his shoulder and her fingertip running slowly up and down Adelaide's tiny little hand as he continued to hold her. Her eyes were closed now and she was asleep, though surely not for long.

"Isn't she perfect?" Summer mused, voice quiet and full of awe.

"She's more than perfect," he replied, gazing down at the baby's face. Her cheeks were _enormous_, so fat and cute that he was sure no word existed in any of the languages he spoke to describe just _how_ cute she was.

"She's so _big_," Summer marveled, "and _tiny_ at the same time. And so much hair..."

Bucky watched Summer softly caress the mess of hair on Adelaide's head, and he smiled as he said, "She looks like you."

"She looks like you, too," she pointed out, tapping Adelaide's chin. "See? She's got your chin. And your eyes."

"She's got your eyes," he argued, but that only made Summer laugh.

"We both have big blue eyes," she shrugged. "And dark hair. Let's just say she looks just like _us_."

"Works for me," he said before leaning down and dropping a kiss on Adelaide's cheek. She smelled amazing, like something he couldn't even begin to describe. Whatever it was, it made him think of freedom of innocence, and those weren't two things he usually managed to identify with.

Over the next few minutes, Summer and Bucky sat in silence, admiring their handiwork and relishing the quiet beauty of the moment. The spell was broken when there was a quiet tap at the door just before it opened, revealing David's little face peeking in from the other side.

Bucky smiled at him and then carefully, painstakingly cautiously, handed Adelaide back to Summer. He motioned for David to come inside, and he did just before he shut the door behind him. He looked a little tired, maybe recovering from a sugar crash thanks to the candy Esteban had been keeping him happy with, but his thoughtful brown eyes were intensely curious as he stared pointedly at the little bundle of pink in his mother's arms.

Bucky made room for David, scooting back on the bed and patting it when he got close enough. David took the signal and climbed up on the bed, and Bucky put his arm around him as Summer beamed and showed him the baby.

"Here's your sister, kiddo," she said, watching as David stared down at Adelaide's face with big eyes. "See? I finally got her out of my belly. Now she gets to go home with us."

David continued to just stare, and Bucky watched him with a smile on his own face. The kid looked flabbergasted, like maybe the baby being a real entity and not just an idea and a big fat lump in Summer's belly was the single most shocking thing in the whole world.

"You can touch her if you want," Summer said. "Her cheeks are super soft. And see her tiny fingers?"

Summer held up one of Adelaide's hands for emphasis, and David's eyes got even bigger. He stared at the tiny little hand for a good long while until he worked up the nerve to reach out and touch it. When he did, it was one small fingertip on her much smaller open palm, and Adelaide immediately reflexively grasped his finger in a grip so strong that it made David's jaw drop.

"Look at that," Summer smiled. Adelaide, still asleep, held on tight and didn't let go.

Bucky smiled and chuckled as David continued to gape, eventually smiling himself as he finally got to meet his new little sister for the first time. In the midst of the cute moment, David looked up at Bucky and beamed, and Bucky hugged the boy a little tighter as something washed over him that he hadn't been expecting.

There had been moments during Summer's pregnancy, moments that he kept to himself and hadn't breathed a word to anyone about, where he wondered if having a baby who was biologically his would be different from what he had with David. He didn't let it get to him, but a few times he worried what would happen if he felt more for Adelaide than he did for David. He'd hoped it wouldn't happen, and now that Adelaide was here and both kids were right there with him... he knew that he had been worried for nothing.

The only difference between the the two kids and how he felt about them was the fact that he wished he'd gotten this with David, that he'd been there from the beginning like he got to be now with Adelaide. But he couldn't focus on that, not when the four of them were together and making him suddenly feel like they were complete now in a way they hadn't been before. This was how it was _always_ supposed to be. There was no questioning it.

Especially not when Adelaide started squirming and cried a little bit, letting go of David's hand and bringing her fists up to her face as she started rooting around, seemingly looking for something. Bucky, of course, had no idea what this meant, but Summer was on the ball and wasted no time in rearranging her gown and adjusting Adelaide until she was in position to nurse for the first time. She latched on like a pro right away, instantly quieting down and sucking away, looking up and staring sweetly at Summer as she did.

David made a face and stuck out his tongue slightly like he was witnessing the single grossest thing ever, but apparently it was like a train wreck for him because he just couldn't look away. Bucky, on the other hand, was also rather enthralled but for entirely different reasons. He'd listened to Summer ramble on and on about the joys and benefits of breastfeeding before, but seeing it in action and how second nature such a nurturing task was for her... it was fascinating, and he couldn't help but express it.

"That's... really cool," he said, meaning every word. Summer looked at him and smiled with just a hint of a blush on her cheeks, and David looked at him like he was nuts and clearly blind. Meanwhile, Adelaide closed her eyes and drifted back to sleep only moments later, happy and content and as loved and cared for as any baby could be.

In some ways, it felt like a dream. Some buried yet always-present part of him expected to wake up any minute and find himself back in a cold, stark lab, alone and without the love and family that he was currently surrounded with. But it was no dream, and those days of being at the mercy of others was over. He had a home, friend, a _purpose_, a wife who was _incredible_, and now not one but two precious little kids who he loved more than life itself.

He'd never know how or _why_ he'd gotten so lucky or what higher power had seen fit to bless him with far more than he would ever deserve, but damn if it didn't make every last battle it took him to get there more than worth it.

And the best part was, if his luck kept up, it was only the beginning.


	47. Chapter 47

**A/N: Quick little note today because I don't have a lot of time - thank you guys so much for your reviews and feedback and follows, I LOVE YOU ALL and I hope you like this chapter! :D I can tel****l you all that soon my most anticipated phase of the story is coming, and I am super excited, so stick with me through these next couple chapters :D I'll see you all (hopefully) next week!**

Though time seemed to stand still the moment that Adelaide was brought into the world at last, it all but kickstarted back into its usual fast-paced blur before Summer had a chance to blink. On the bright side, she was just too darn happy to notice.

After about two days spent recovering at the birthing center, Summer and Adelaide were sent home without fuss, both of them perfectly healthy following the blessedly uncomplicated labor and delivery. She dressed up Adelaide all in pink and leopard print, then rode in the backseat of the family car with her and David while Bucky drove them home at roughly the pace of someone his actual chronological age. She _loved_ it, wearing a big smile nearly the entire way home, excited to go home and start their new life with the latest tiny, adorable, _fat_ addition to the family.

And then, when they'd gotten home, Bucky had helped Summer get out of the car and held her free hand for well-needed support as she carried Adelaide to the door. Once they got inside, Summer nearly fainted at the very unexpected sight of _everyone_ they knew, all waiting there to welcome them and, most importantly, Adelaide home. It was one of those moments that, due partially to the hormones still wreaking havoc on her brain, that instantly reduced her to big fat happy tears.

Though she imagined that many new parents would prefer going home to a quiet, empty house, the part of Summer that missed living in the tower with everyone couldn't have been happier to come home to a house filled with people and, even more helpfully, food and various goodies that they'd all brought. It was a blast, and Summer got to sit back in the comfiest chair in her living room while the baby got passed around from each eager person to the next. Steve and Natasha had a brief squabble over calling dibs before Natasha - reluctantly - conceded and let Steve hold her first, only because Steve had been waiting a _very_ long time for the chance to hold his best friend's first baby.

Though Adelaide was a rather fat and good-sized baby, she looked like a tiny little doll in Steve's arms, and he held her like a very breakable one. Adelaide continued to doze contentedly despite then going next to Natasha, who smiled and _oohed_ and _ahhed _and clearly did not want to hand her over to the next person in line, which was a very eager and impatient Darcy. Next came Sam, then Wanda, who was a bit nervous about taking the baby. She ended up sitting next to Summer and holding Adelaide, marveling over both her tininess and the tranquil, wholly innocent state of her brand-new mind.

After that, Adelaide had begun to stir and Summer took her back to feed her before she had a chance to fuss. David managed to rope Bucky into playing Mario Party with him just before Pepper and Tony arrived for a brief but spirited visit. Pepper utterly melted at the mere presence of Adelaide, and Tony even held her for a moment before she started squirming and appeared to decide that he was the _one_ person she wasn't yet fond of. Everybody found it hilarious, and Summer enjoyed the unexpected afternoon with everyone so much that she forgot for a little while how sore and exhausted she was.

Once the get-together wound down and Summer's energy went with it, everyone prepared to leave and the last person - or being - who had yet to hold the baby had his turn. Summer watched with a smile when Bucky handed the baby over to Vision, who seemed so completely in awe of the child and intensely curious about her that it ranked quite high on the list of most adorable things Summer had ever seen. She couldn't help but sneak a peek at Wanda, who was looking on just as fondly, if not more so.

Once it was all over and everyone had gone, leaving with a flurry of hugs and promises to come back whenever Summer or Bucky so much as said the word, night had fallen and everyone was ready for bed, even little David. He'd held up like a trooper through it all, but Summer wasn't so blind with bliss that she didn't notice how unsure and reluctant he still was about having his new sister _out_ and in the center of attention. But as focused as she was on Adelaide, David was not forgotten in the least and she and Bucky were both very mindful of keeping him close and keeping his routine as stable as possible.

And so, that first night back at home, Bucky put David to bed while Summer retreated to their bedroom with Adelaide, feeling like a truck had hit her and left her for dead now that she was back in her comfort zone and losing some of that initial post-birth energy. She managed to get Adelaide's diaper changed and fed her one more time before they both fell asleep, and that was how Bucky found them after David had also gone down for the night - cuddled up safely and soundly in his and Summer's bed, dead to the world and so adorable that he couldn't help but take pictures of the sweet, serene sight.

Of course, that all changed only two hours later, when Adelaide woke up crying and Summer woke up with breasts that were suddenly as hard as rocks, rather painful, and noticeably even bigger than they already were. All that was lacking from the briefly chaotic scene was a marching band cheerfully strolling through the room and announcing _welcome to your lives as new parents!_

But Summer had survived this before, and she knew she would again. Bucky, meanwhile, tried not to panic the first time he had to change a diaper, then moments later heard Adelaide cough and choke multiple times thanks to Summer's fresh new overly abundant supply of milk, and then ended up wearing said milk when it all came back up ten minutes later when he'd taken Adelaide so Summer could go to the bathroom. And that was _still_ just the first night home.

Over the next two weeks, it was a mostly fun, slightly nerve-wracking, and entirely rewarding exercise in finding a new routine and getting comfortable again. Summer had plenty of time off of work and Bucky didn't get any assignments either, so they got to spend more time together than almost ever before as they got to know their little girl. She was an overall very easy and happy baby, but with an impatient streak that would result in a sharp and pointed cry whenever she didn't get what she wanted fast enough, though that was a fairly rare occurrence thanks to Summer's prompt attention. Her eyes were bright blue and she was covered in little fat rolls _everywhere_, her cheeks so fat one might suspect that she was a chipmunk smuggling an entire winter's supply of acorns at any given moment.

Sleep wasn't as hard to come by as the books Bucky had glanced at had claimed it would be. Adelaide liked her sleep and, though she'd wake up about three times a night to be fed and changed, it was relatively quick affairs that would take about half an hour before she was back asleep and settled in her bassinet next to their bed. Bucky would wake up each time even though he really didn't need to, since Summer was on the ball and the only one with the goods to feed her with, but he'd still get up and keep Summer company anyway. Then they'd cuddle up and fall back asleep, usually with Summer's hand on the side of the bassinet, just a touch away from their baby.

It was far from the nightmare movies made it out to be, though they both knew at the same time how lucky they were to have a healthy baby who was also pretty darn easy and happy.

David was the only one who still seemed unsure and, at times, unimpressed. Sometimes he'd act fine and stare at Adelaide like she was super cool, and other times he'd look at her as if he wondered if she couldn't just go away for a few hours so he could have everybody to himself. Summer had faith that he'd adjust and warm up to his sister once she got a bit bigger and was less of a newborn and more of a giggly, smiley baby. But those days hadn't arrived yet, and David appeared to view her mostly as a cute but suspicious poop and spit-up machine.

And for then, that was fine. Summer was happy, Bucky was happy and constantly in a state of awe, and David was happy to have his parents not working every single day for once.

Everything was _great_. Mostly, anyway.

* * *

Early one morning exactly two weeks after Adelaide had been born, Summer and Bucky woke up the same way they had been ever since things had settled down into a nice little routine - laying in bed, Adelaide awake and laying on her back in between them, eyes wide open and making little tiny _ah_ sounds as they both kissed her little cheeks and caressed her head, generally in baby heaven and loving every moment of it.

"Can you believe it's been two weeks already?" Summer asked, watching Bucky as he smiled widely down at Adelaide. She was holding on to his right index finger and staring up at him, not quite old enough to smile yet but very alert and fascinated by the face that matched the voice she'd been listening to for far longer than just two weeks. In fact, Bucky's voice had been the first one she'd turned her head to try to find.

"It feels like it was yesterday," Bucky replied, not taking his eyes off of his baby. "She already looks so different."

"I know," Summer sighed. "She's gained a pound and a half already, too."

Bucky glanced up at her and remarked with a grin, "Guess you definitely aren't making skim milk, then."

She smiled but still rolled her eyes. "Ha ha. Funny."

He grinned back and then dropped down to kiss Adelaide's fat little cheek, and Summer's smile grew. She loved these quiet mornings together, before the day began and when it was just the three of them awake. It was the most peaceful part of the day, and it made her love waking up just a little earlier than necessary in order to have it.

"How do you feel?" Bucky asked after he'd taken a break from showering his little girl with kisses. His head was propped up on his metal hand, and he looked as effortlessly perfect as ever, long hair a mess from sleep and shirtless as usual. Summer was a different story.

"I'm okay," she replied, trying to ignore the rat's nest called her hair, which was in a messy ponytail behind her head. She was wearing one of Bucky's t shirts and sweatpants that were older than she'd ever admit, and, well... she _looked_ like a new mom. "Just starving as usual. And I feel gross. Actually... do you think you could stay here with her so I can go take a shower?"

He nodded immediately. "Yeah, sure. Or you could wait until she falls back asleep and we could take one together."

Being only two weeks post-birth, Summer knew that he wasn't suggesting anything _physical_ with the offer - that was a no-no for another month - but she couldn't help but immediately turn him down. "Oh, no, that's okay. I can just jump in and out."

"You sure?" he asked, not hurt or put off by the rejection but curious, if his expression was any clue.

She nodded. "Yeah. I just really need to wash my hair and get it detangled, which isn't gonna be easy, and I still just... feel gross."

"Gross like sick, or..."

She shook her head. "No. Just gross."

His eyes narrowed slightly, and she knew that he finally understood why she was saying no. "You don't want me to _see_ you."

She smiled uneasily and shrugged a bit. "I mean... yeah, kinda? Look, I just... it was different before, when I was pregnant and had this huge cute belly, but now I'm just... fat. And gross."

He shook his head, fighting hard not to roll his eyes. "You're neither of those things."

She widened her eyes. "I gained 83 pounds, Bucky, and I've only lost like 20 so far," she pointed out. "I'm a disaster right now."

"Then you're a beautiful disaster," he replied with a smile, and Summer rolled her eyes again.

"No, I'm gross, and my stomach is all weird and empty and big and... flappy," she muttered, cringing a little. "So yeah. Just for my own peace of mind, let's save the shower thing for later."

"That's fine," he said, holding his hand up. "It was just an idea. Go on before she decides she's hungry again."

"Okay," she nodded quickly, leaning down and pressing a kiss to Adelaide's cheek first, then Bucky's lips in a brief but sweet little kiss before she dragged herself out of bed and to the bathroom. She was starting to feel a bit more like herself again after the birth, but at the same time, not really. Her back still hurt often and she would still get way too tired just from walking around the house or fixing a meal, but she was happy to not be as sore or beat to hell as she initially had been when she'd first come home. Progress was progress, after all, however small.

Once she got to the bathroom and had the door shut behind her, Summer took a breath and pointedly avoided looking in the mirror before resolving to get the shower over with as quickly as possible. She flipped the shower on and let the water get hot as she started raking her hairbrush through her hair, grimacing every time she pulled on a particularly difficult knot. Once her hair was successfully disentangled, she then went to set the brush down back on the counter only to pause and stare at the thing with suddenly wide eyes. After seeing the huge amount of hair she'd just lost by merely brushing her hair, she panicked for a good five seconds before she remembered that some hair loss after pregnancy was normal and she was not, in fact, going bald.

About fifteen minutes later - and another handful of hair lost in the process of washing it - Summer had stepped out of the shower and thrown on a roomy white bathrobe when the sound of Adelaide's distinct "hungry" cry reached her ears. She was out of there and back in the bedroom in a flash, hair dripping and leaving a wet trail on the floor as she hurried to the bed and climbed in on her side, holding out her arms to take the baby from Bucky as soon as she was settled.

"Wow, that was fast," he remarked with a smile, carefully handing Adelaide over. "Feel better?"

"Little bit," she replied, grabbing a pillow and getting it set up under her arm for support as she got Adelaide into the standard nursing position. She was fussing impatiently, and she latched on the very moment Summer had gotten one side of her robe far enough out of the way. Once Adelaide was latched and instantly happy again, Summer sighed with relief and glanced at Bucky to find him staring in a completely innocent, quietly awed and fascinated kind of way.

She couldn't help but smile like an idiot. "One of these days you're gonna get used to this."

He smiled back, looking up at her and then back down at their baby as he shook his head a little bit. "It's still just... really cool."

"What, that I'm like a Z-cup now, or that I am able to singlehandedly feed and nourish a baby?" she asked cheekily.

"Well... both," he replied teasingly. "But no, I mean it. It really is amazing."

She smiled, happy that he felt that way and wasn't put off or grossed out, or saw it as a burden or something. Not that she ever thought he'd be any of those things. "I've missed this," she admitted, looking down and smiling brightly as Adelaide peeked up at her. "I nursed David until he was three."

"Three?" Bucky repeated. "That's a long time."

"Yeah, but it calmed him down a lot," she said, still staring down at Adelaide. "His autism symptoms started right before he turned two, and nursing was such a comfort for him. It would calm him down when nothing else would. I would have gone even longer, but he just woke up one day and decided he was done."

"Does it still hurt?" he asked, scooting closer and putting an arm around her shoulders.

"Nope," she smiled at him. "And they're not hard as rocks anymore, thank God. That part went away pretty fast. I'm still spraying and leaking a lot, though. _That_ probably won't stop for a couple more months."

"I can't imagine what that feels like," he said, rubbing Adelaide's head with his right hand.

"The leaking or breastfeeding in general?" she smiled. "Because the leaking's annoying as frick, but everything else is just the sweetest thing in the world."

"I can tell," he said, kissing her temple while looking on. Adelaide's eyes were closed and she was now dozing, but still latched and suckling as a comfort. As both of them stared at her, Bucky murmured, "She's so perfect."

"I know," Summer smiled widely. "Think we'll ever get sick of staring at her?"

"I don't think so," he said. "But... I should probably get up and get going. You ready for coffee?"

Summer made a low whining noise in reply, turning towards him and smiling brightly. "_Yes._ Can you make me a giant cup?"

"Of course," he grinned. "I've _been_ making you giant cups since the day we came home."

"And it's _so_ good," she sighed heavily, briefly closing her eyes. "I swear, finally getting to have coffee again after nine months of nothing is just... it's _almost_ better than sex." When Bucky paused and stared at her pointedly, she merely shrugged and said, "What? I said _almost_."

He rolled his eyes faintly before leaning closer and kissing her, just before he pulled away and said quietly, "I love you."

"Love you too," she replied sweetly, watching him get up and throw a shirt on before he headed out of their room. Still wearing a silly smile, she looked down and pulled her robe fully closed again now that Adelaide was knocked out again and happily sleeping the morning away. Summer ended up getting so comfy with her warm little bundle of joy that she dozed off again herself, only waking up once the aroma of freshly brewed coffee tickled her nose and pulled her from the alluring arms of sleep.

She _loved_ starting her days like this. Coffee was just the admittedly delicious and very essential icing on the happy, incredibly blessed cake that was her life. If only she didn't look and feel like she'd eaten the whole cake, and about fifty more, all by herself.

* * *

Later, after afternoon had arrived, Summer found herself in Adelaide's room, sitting next to her crib as they both stared quite intently at the otherworldly mobile dangling over Adelaide's head. Thor's gift really was something to behold, so much so that even Summer was entranced by its floating and revolving golden figures. It was so intriguing, in fact, that David ended up wandering into the room and sitting next to Summer, all three of them staring at the mobile like it was the most interesting thing they'd ever seen.

And that was how Bucky found them, Steve trailing behind him after having showed up for a visit. They both stopped in the doorway, glanced at each other in amusement, and then grinned at the three people apparently under the Asgardian mobile's spell. Summer only snapped out of it when Bucky remarked, "If you like that so much, we could always ask Thor for another one."

She jumped, startled and immediately began laughing as she shook her head and said, "Well, have you _seen_ this thing? It's so cool!" Then she waved and added cheerfully, "Hi Steve!"

"Hi," he smiled back, laughing softly when David jumped up and ran to him for a hug when he realized he was there. Bucky walked to the crib and peered into it, smiling at his tiny daughter as she sucked happily on a pink pacifier and continued staring up at the mobile.

"I thought she was ready for a nap," Bucky said, reaching down to caress her fat cheek with the backs of his right hand fingers as Summer looked on.

"Yeah... guess not," Summer replied. "She's been up a whole two hours, though. After this, she's gonna be out for the whole rest of the day. Well, with like a million nursing breaks, but you know what I mean."

"Yeah," Bucky nodded. It took him a moment, but after awhile he looked up from Adelaide to the mobile and said, "This thing _is_ pretty cool."

"Right? Thor's presents are the best," Summer sighed. Then she paused and her eyes popped wide open as she exclaimed, "Oh my God! It's been two weeks and I haven't thanked Thor for the potion!"

Bucky and Steve both looked at her in confusion as she bounded up and all but ran to the window. Steve muttered, "But how are you supposed to thank him when he's..."

Steve got his answer when she pushed the window up, stuck her head outside, and yelled happily up to the sky, "Hey, Thor! Thanks for that potion, it was literally a life saver and pretty much the best thing anyone's ever given me! And I had my baby and she's perfect and cute and... I'd totally grab her and hold her up to show you like Simba from the Lion King, but that would be dangling her out the window Michael Jackson style... so _anyway_, thank you again, and if you ever want to come down for awhile and meet my baby, I would love that!"

She then brought her head back inside the house, closed up the window, and turned around to find all three male occupants of the room staring at her in various forms of amusement. David was staring at her like she was definitely officially bonkers, Steve looked highly entertained, and Bucky was smiling as he said, "So _that's_ how you do the whole yelling at the sky thing."

"Yeah," she smiled with a shrug. "How else would I do it?"

"I'll have to keep that in mind next time we could use his help," Steve said. "Just yell up at a cloud."

"Yeah, it's like a Bat-signal, only... cheaper and faster," Summer said, flashing them all another smile before reaching into the crib to pick Adelaide up. "So, living room?"

Everyone murmured or nodded their agreement, and a few moments later the five of them were settled in the cozy living room at the front of the house. Bucky sat next to Summer on one couch and David was glued to Steve's side on another couch, and the very minute everyone was comfortable, Adelaide let out one of her rather sharp, impatient hungry cries. Summer didn't think twice about immediately rearranging her top and feeding her, which left Steve smiling just forced enough to make it obvious how instantly unsure he was as he stared resolutely at Bucky and _not_ at her chest. Of course, being the last man on Earth who would ever ogle a woman disrespectfully - especially when she was the closest thing to a sister in law he'd ever have, and _nursing a baby_ \- it was completely unnecessary, and thus hilarious.

Summer was the first to notice, looking up after Adelaide had latched and then immediately cracking up. "Don't pull a muscle there, Steve."

Bucky looked next, and he also laughed quietly as Steve shrugged and sighed. "Yeah, you're gonna have to get used to it."

"I know," Steve said, squirming and slightly and still avoiding looking. "I just - I don't want to look and make you uncomfortable, Summer, and -"

She laughed again. "Oh, please! It's totally fine. Really. Besides, you can't see anything anyway," she shrugged, and it was true. There was only a tiny sliver of skin visible between Adelaide's face and Summer's shirt. She'd showed off far more skin in many dresses and tops plenty of times before.

"Yeah, well... still. I thought women usually used blankets when they... nurse."

"In public, yeah," she nodded. "But it's a hassle and annoying, and besides, I know I wouldn't want to eat with a blanket over _my_ face."

"Fair enough," Steve nodded, chuckling.

"It'll never get old making you uncomfortable," Bucky noted, taking a drink of _something_ vaguely green-colored in a bottle.

"Thanks," Steve said dryly, with a slight roll of his eyes. "I just like to make sure I'm not doing anything that's gonna offend someone or make _them_ uncomfortable."

"And that's one of the things that's adorable about you," Summer smiled back. "But honestly, all things considered, when it comes to my body right now, my boobs are like the one thing I'm okay with being stared at, ironic as it is."

"But you look great," Steve replied, and his innate sincerity made Summer want to envelope him in a hug and crush him with all of her baby weight. And love.

"Thank you, but I'm a wreck," she shrugged. "Just call me Shamu."

Bucky paused, grew puzzled, and asked, "What's a Shamu?"

When Steve looked equally confused, Summer replied with a wave of her hand, "Shamu was this big giant female killer whale. So basically me, minus the killer part."

Bucky rolled his eyes, glancing at Steve as if to say _what am I going to do with this lady_, and Adelaide decided that she was done with the feeding and popped off. Summer quickly stuffed herself back into her bra, which resulted in Steve staring at the wall to avoid seeing anything. Once she was covered again, she smiled down at Adelaide - who was surprisingly still awake - and then asked Steve, "Want to take her for awhile?"

"Oh, sure," Steve nodded, finally making eye contact with her again. He hurried up to his feet and crossed the short distance to where Summer was, and after a careful transfer of the child, Adelaide was in her uncle's arms and staring up at him as he walked them back to the couch. David stayed by Steve's side, watching curiously and peering at his sister over Steve's shoulder, and Summer watched with a little smile as she leaned her head on Bucky's shoulder.

It wasn't the first time Steve had held her, but the look on his face every time that he did never got old. He stared at Adelaide with such wonder and love that had been both instant and incredibly real, and it made Summer unable to help but let her next words spill from her lips.

"You know, Steve, you look _really_ good with a baby," she pointed out with a smile. After Steve looked up at her and smiled back, she asked, "Do you want kids, eventually?"

It was then that Steve's previously happy demeanor became a bit more conflicted. Summer hadn't expected that, nor his answer of, "Yeah. Or I did. I _do_. It's... complicated."

"Is everything okay with you and Nat?" Summer asked next. As far as she knew, they were doing perfectly fine, and they had been for a remarkably long time.

Steve nodded. "Yeah, yeah, we're fine. We just don't always have a lot of conversations about... things like this," he explained, gesturing to the baby in his arms. "And I don't like to bring it up, since I know it's a rough subject for her."

Summer nodded, having been told by Natasha about her infertility soon after she'd become pregnant with Adelaide. It had come about after Summer had made a teasing comment about whether Natasha was going to get knocked up next, and though Summer had felt awful about unwittingly bringing up a sore subject, Natasha had been surprisingly open about it. "Well... I mean, if you guys wanted, you _could_ still have kids. There's adoption, surrogacy, stuff like that."

"I know," he nodded. "But then at the same time, I'm not sure that's what I really want. You guys are different," he explained, "because you're not both Avengers. You can make this work. I'm not sure we could." Then, after another quiet moment spent looking at Adelaide, he added, "And that's even if she wanted to try."

"Well," Summer said lightly, "you won't know until you talk to her about it."

Steve nodded, then smiled a little sadly and said, "She's not the most open person."

Summer glanced at Bucky, then back to Steve before she squinted and asked, "Are you _sure_ you guys are okay?"

"Yeah," Steve insisted again. "Honestly, it's been this way since the start. I don't know what the future has for us, so... it's hard to imagine it at all, you know?"

Summer nodded, understanding what he was saying completely. "Well... hopefully you guys can just figure it out on the way, then."

"I hope so," Steve agreed. "I really do."

Summer smiled warmly at him, then glanced at Bucky as if to nudge him to give some words of wisdom. He didn't seem to have anything, and before she could silently scold him for it, her phone dinged in her pants pocket. She dug it out and found a new comment alert on her blog to be the culprit, and she smiled as she unlocked the phone and said, "I keep getting all these new followers on my blog, and my last couple posts have been big hits since they're all about Adelaide. People are really eating it... up."

Both Steve and Bucky paused when they saw how Summer's expression went from confused to pissed off in about three seconds upon reading the new comment on her phone. Bucky was the one to ask, "What's wrong?"

She blinked a few times and said, "Well, my newest post - which is really popular, by the way - was all about breastfeeding and stuff, and I mentioned how I breastfed David until he was three." Across the room, David made a gagging sound, but Summer went on undeterred. "Anyway, so this person comments and says, '_Wow, I guess it's a good thing you're anonymous, since your poor son must be really embarrassed right now. You know there's no actual medical benefits of breastfeeding past one, right? And actually, why _are_ you so anonymous anyway?'"_

Steve furrowed his brows, and Bucky raised his own as he asked, "Who said that?"

"I don't know, just some jerk. But what the heck?" she asked, rereading the comment and getting angrier. "There are tons of benefits of breastfeeding past two, and why _shouldn't_ I be anonymous? Plenty of bloggers are! It's not like I've got anything to hide." She paused, looked at Bucky, and then amended, "Well... aside from you, but still. I'd be anonymous either way, just because people are crazy these days and you can never be too safe."

She then began firing off a reply, her thumbs rapidly attacking the keys on her phone, and Steve said, "Are these 'mommy blogs' always this... intense?"

"No," Summer shook her head, still typing away and focused on the screen. "I mean, sometimes, but this is kind of a first for me. It's also really stupid because hello, all the top medical organizations recommend breastfeeding for at least two years and there's _so_ many benefits, like..."

As Summer kept rattling on and on, Bucky glanced at Steve and smiled a little. Steve smiled back, raising his eyebrows a little, the two of them communicating without words and clearly both finding Summer's righteous zeal for her cause adorable.

"... And I'm not bashing moms who use formula. If you have to, you have to - I get it. But why should a kid be embarrassed because he nursed until he was three? It's not that old! In some countries kids don't wean until they're like seven!"

"Seven?" Steve repeated, brows furrowing again. "_Seven_?"

"I'm not saying I would do that," she shrugged, "but my point is, it's the parent's choice, so who cares?"

"There's your next post," Bucky grinned, nudging her ribs a bit with his elbow.

Her eyes lit up and she stopped typing. "You're right! Instead of replying to this guy I'll just write a whole new post! Are you okay with her still, Steve?"

"Yeah, she's starting to fall asleep," Steve said, glancing down at Adelaide and her little closed eyes.

"Awesome. I'm gonna go grab my computer," Summer announced, getting up and briefly leaving the room.

After she'd gone, silence fell upon the room for a few moments. David was leaning against Steve, playing with a few toys he'd grabbed awhile before, and Bucky was staring at his daughter's sweet face as she dozed in his best friend's arms.

Finally, Steve looked up at Bucky and said quietly, "She looks a lot like you, you know."

Bucky smiled and replied quietly, "All I see in her is Summer."

"I see her too," Steve said, "but I remember what you looked like when we were kids. And sometimes she makes this face, and I can't even hardly describe it, but it's just _you_."

Bucky smiled a little, nodding and then muttering after a moment, "Well, let's hope that's all she gets from me."

"I don't know," Steve said, turning his eyes back to the sleeping baby. "I think between the two of you, she's gonna turn out just fine. Besides, she's also got a big brother to look out for her, right?"

David looked up at Steve and smiled, nodding as Steve laughed quietly. Bucky smiled too, and then Summer came walking back into the room with her laptop in tow. She sat back down, smiled at Bucky when he put his arm around her, and then turned on the computer to begin typing her new post.

Her plans were thwarted, however, when Adelaide decided that it would be a great time to thoroughly christen her uncle and spit up quite profusely all over him. She didn't even wake up all the way to do it, merely stirring, ejecting the lovely contents of her tiny belly, and then settling back down happily in his arms while Steve first gasped a little and then sat frozen, covered in Summer's barely-digested breastmilk.

Bucky was the first to start roaring with laughter. David got away from Steve as fast as he could, and Summer put her computer aside and exclaimed, "Oh God! That was a lot! Okay, hold on, let me get you a towel..."

"It's okay," Steve said, though his face told another story, but that was okay. Summer came back fast, bearing a towel and taking Adelaide from Steve so he could clean up as best as he could.

"Sure you don't want one of these?" She asked teasingly, grinning at him as he wiped spit-up off of his shirt and arm.

"You know," Steve smiled, briefly glancing at Bucky and then Adelaide, "maybe I'll just be happy being an uncle for awhile."

* * *

Later on that night, after Steve had gone and a giant pizza had been consumed for dinner, Summer left Adelaide in the dozing contentedly in a very softly moving baby swing in the living room to go do the dishes. Bucky followed her in there to help, and David was left sitting next to his sister as he played a game on the TV. Both still in Summer's line of sight as she started filling up the dishwasher, and she glanced at them often enough to warrant a comment from Bucky as he put a cup in the dishwasher.

"They're not gonna disappear, you know," he said, and she looked at him and smiled a bit sheepishly.

"Yeah... well, you know how I am," she shrugged. "Besides, you're the same way."

"I'm not overprotective at all," he teased, and she laughed at such a hilarious notion.

"Not at all," she agreed, glancing at the kids one more time. Then a thought came to mind, and she looked at Bucky again as he leaned against the counter next to her. "Hey, I was wondering something."

"Yeah?"

"When Steve was talking about him and Nat and how he's not sure about the future and stuff, why didn't you say anything?" When Bucky didn't answer the question yet, she added, "I've never heard him talk like that, and I think he was looking for you to say something, not me."

Bucky paused for a moment, glancing out at the kids before he turned back to her and said, "The thing is, I didn't really know what to say."

"How?" Summer asked, pausing as she turned off the faucet. "You know him better than anyone."

"Yeah, but what he was saying, how he's unsure about their future... I don't know what to say to that because I've never felt that way with you."

"Really?" she asked, with a small smile on her face.

"Yeah. I mean, there were times when I was scared, and I didn't know how we would end up, what would happen," he explained. "But that wasn't what he was talking about."

"Yeah," Summer sighed. Then she smiled a little and said, "So you never worried about whether I was a good match for you? Or if maybe there wasn't someone better suited to you out there? Not that Steve was saying that, but still."

"Not once," he admitted. "I worried about putting you in danger and what kind of life you'd have with me. But I never thought I'd find anyone better."

"You never walked down the street and saw some hot blonde in high heels and thought 'oooh'?" she teased.

He smiled and shook his head. "I've never really been a big fan of blondes."

"Okay, so you never saw some hot brunette and thought 'oooh'?"

This time he laughed. "Why would I think that when I've already got the hottest brunette I've ever seen?"

She blushed and closed the dishwasher. "Yeah, yeah, sure."

"I mean it," he said, moving behind her and wrapping his arms around her middle as she turned on the dishwasher. He kissed her neck and she smiled, the touch tickling a little.

"Yeah, well, now you've got the fattest brunette," she joked, earning a scoff from him against her ear as he kissed her just underneath it.

"Nah, now I've just got more of you to grope," he said, lips still at her ear, and he punctuated his statement with his hands curling around her considerably bigger hips and kissing her neck again. She giggled quietly, and he glanced at the kids again to make sure David wasn't watching before he reached up with his right hand and very gently grabbed one of her breasts through her shirt. He immediately let his jaw drop and marveled quietly, "Holy cow - I need both hands to grab _one_ of these things now!"

She giggled harder, batting his hand away and saying, "Your inner old man just came out a little bit when you said 'holy cow'." Then his hands shot back up, both of them this time, and she squeaked a bit as she pushed them away and whisper-yelled, "_Stop_!"

"_I can't_," he whispered back, and they both laughed quietly and ended up kissing softly as Summer smacked his hands away one last time.

Meanwhile, in the living room, David glanced towards the kitchen after having lost a life on the game he was playing. He instantly made a face and looked away, noting that his parents were being gross again, and he glanced at his little sister sitting in her baby swing before focusing back on his game. The problem was, he was stuck at a particularly hard level and planned on recruiting Bucky to help him beat it whenever he and Summer stopped being disgusting. After he died again, he sighed and looked again at Adelaide.

She was asleep still and thus making no noise - thank God - and he looked her over for about the twentieth time that day. She was cute, yes, and there was no denying it. He was just a bit sick of the incessant fuss over her, and plus, she sure seemed to spit up a whole lot, which _did_ make her pretty gross.

All in all, though, not much had changed. He liked that both parents were home all the time lately, and they made lots of time for him as they had before. They just constantly reminded him to be careful around the new baby, and now whenever anyone came over, they spent most of their time there holding her rather than playing with him.

She was just kinda... boring. She didn't do much. She slept. She ate. Well, she drank. She pooped. She peed. Then she'd spit up and do it all over again. Seemed like a lot of hassle for not a lot of payoff, in David's estimation.

He looked back towards the kitchen, and while they weren't being disgusting anymore, his parents were talking in hushed tones and smiling a lot, which meant they wouldn't be paying attention to anything else for awhile. But that was okay. He still remembered the days when Bucky never smiled at _anything_ and Summer carried a gun on her just in case he freaked out. She'd thought that she'd hidden the gun well, but she hadn't and David had known the whole time. Now they were all happy and even when they'd bicker, they'd be all curled up and being gross again five minutes later.

But now there was this _baby_, and David still wasn't sure where she fit into things. He looked at her again, and while her eyes were closed, she opened her mouth in a big yawn. David couldn't help but smile a little, even if he tried to hide it. She looked _really_ cute yawning.

Then her eyes opened up, and rather than start crying immediately, she looked around as she woke up and just laid there in her swing, all curious and not at all unhappy. He set his controller down and got in front of her swing, looking at her as curiously as she was suddenly looking at him.

She was so _fat_. She reminded him of a sumo wrestler, only a lot cuter and covered in pink. She had a big pink bow on her head, on top of her crazy brown hair, and she was so girly looking that it was slightly revolting. One day, he'd dress her up like a ninja turtle and give her a break from all the sickening pink. _Oh yeah. _

As she continued to stare at him, he reached out and let her grab his finger in her tiny fist. He still couldn't believe how strong her grip was. She held on to him with what felt like all her might, and he smiled at her as he started to think of all the things he could teach her in the future. Playing games, puzzles, how to get dressed and _not_ look like a fairy puked all over you. Very important lessons. She'd probably insist on being Peach when they played Mario, but that was okay. Just as long as she stayed away from Jigglypuff when he broke out Smash Bros. Jigglypuff was just out of the question. He'd teach her better than that.

The pacifier that had been in her mouth and keeping her happy suddenly fell out, and her face started to crunch up in what would surely be another one of her ear-piercing cries. David quickly grabbed the pacifier, checked to make sure it was still clean, and then carefully stuck it back in her mouth. She calmed down and started sucking on the thing again, and David let out a relieved breath. All the while, she still held on to his finger.

Yeah, she was okay after all. He just had to wait until she was a little bigger and less... _newborn_. Then she'd be fun. He was already coming up with lots of plans for her.

Then, as he started to smile at her again, she made a strange face, shifted her whole body just a bit, and made the loudest pooping noise he'd ever heard in his life. His eyes became huge, and then they became even bigger when she did it _again_.

_Oh God_. He carefully let go of her finger and got up to go get his mama so she could deal with all of _that_.

Meanwhile, Summer and Bucky - who had been covertly watching David warm up to his sister almost the entire time - smiled at each other and shared a wordless moment of glee over it. They had known that it would happen sooner or later, and now that it had, they knew that the new bond between brother and sister would only deepen over time.

"You want to change her this time?" Summer asked Bucky, giving him a quick kiss to sweeten the deal.

He pretended to think it over, and then said, "... I think this one requires experience. You're up."

She rolled her eyes. "Fine. But you get the next extra-gross one."

"Deal," he agreed, kissing her one last time as David strolled into the kitchen holding his nose.

Summer smiled at David and bent down to give him an impromptu big, squeezing hug. As she squeezed the life out of him, she kissed his cheek and said, "I'm really proud of you, kiddo. You're doing _really_ well with all of these changes, and with your sister." She pulled back a little and smiled at him, cupping his face. "I love you _so_ much."

He smiled, signed an _I love you too_ back to her, and she smiled again before hugging him one more time. Then she was up, back on her feet, and headed towards what was sure to be a truly epic dirty diaper.

It might not have been the most glamorous life that they had, but it was a damn happy one. All it had to do was stay that way.


	48. Chapter 48

One month and two weeks after Adelaide was born, Summer awoke mid-morning one day to something she hadn't been woken up to for quite awhile - silence, and her husband's arm firm around her waist and his soft lips on her neck. She smiled to herself and kept her eyes closed, though she knew that he could tell by how her breathing had changed that she was awake.

Adelaide was sound asleep in her bassinet next to their bed, and Summer felt incredibly warm and safe and content where she was in Bucky's arms. In fact, she could have easily fallen back asleep if not for the way that Bucky paused his little sweet kisses when he made it to her shoulder, slid the strap of her tank top down, and then kissed there as his right hand slid softly down over her arm.

There was _really_ no more sleeping when he dragged his lips back up to her ear, and then murmured as his hand curled around her waist, "How long are you gonna keep acting like you're still asleep?"

She smiled and cracked her eyes open, caught as she peered back at him and bit her lip. "As long as it takes so you keep kissing me like that?"

"What makes you think I'd stop?" he grinned before leaning down and gently kissing her lips. Her smile lingered as she kissed him back, and she shifted to her back so she could reach him easier. Her hand went to his hair, which was a mess and still quite long, soft and smooth between her fingers. She'd trimmed it a few times but she loved it longer and he seemed to like it too, and she had a special fondness for his bedhead.

He was shirtless and she was in just her tank top and underwear, and his skin was so warm on hers that it almost made her break into a sweat already. His palm laid over her stomach as they kissed, and when the kiss came to an end, he pulled away and smiled down at her. She smiled back and then asked as she helpfully tucked his hair behind his ears for him, "What time is it?"

He shrugged, glancing down at his hand as it toyed with the hem of her top. "Early."

She glanced towards towards the bassinet. "Is Adelaide -"

"Sleeping," he assured her. His fingers that had been playing with her shirt slipped beneath the fabric, sliding softly on her stomach as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the side of her neck. "Just you and me."

Summer closed her eyes and swallowed, a mix of excitement and nearly crippling anxiety snaking through her belly as his hand continued to wander and his lips kissed down her neck. She had known that this was coming soon, and she'd been looking forward to it fully. But now that it was here, all she wanted to do was hide from him under the covers and be completely ridiculous.

She put her hands on his shoulders and asked, "Don't you have to go to work today?"

He lifted his head and then shrugged. "Just for a couple hours later. Not yet."

"Oh," she replied a little dumbly, closing her eyes as his lips descended down on hers for a far for more insistent kiss than the last. Her stomach flipped a little and her blood started pumping faster, especially when his hand left her stomach to go to her side and trail down until he reached her bare leg. He gripped her outer thigh and pulled her leg up and over his hip, his tongue sliding in her mouth as he ground himself down on her with _just_ enough pressure for her to feel how much he wanted her.

And _God_ did she want him too. She'd been cleared the day prior by her midwife to resume normal _physical_ activities, healed up and perfectly fine, but that didn't change the fact that she still felt roughly the size of a beached whale and about as attractive as one. In addition, childbirth certainly had a way of changing a woman's body, and she wasn't sure that she was okay with him getting that _close_ to certain parts of her and seeing them close up.

But even with all of her understandable insecurities, it was nearly impossible for her to doubt how much he still wanted her despite the current very non-ideal state of her body. Her hands roamed up his muscular back as his hand left her leg to move back up to her stomach. He pushed her top up until it was over her breasts, which were contained by one of her comfier and therefore decidedly unsexy nursing bras. It was another ding to her already nonexistent confidence, but she didn't make a move to stop him when he broke the kiss and moved back to her neck with a soft groan.

He gave her breast a squeeze through her bra - gently, since that was important these days - and murmured into her ear as he ground more insistently against her, "You feel so good, sweetheart."

She felt her cheeks get hotter as she blushed, closing her eyes and trying to stop thinking and just enjoy herself. He kissed her again, his mouth dizzyingly hot and determined upon hers, and then he was kissing down her neck again, only this time he didn't stop there. He kissed down her chest and stomach almost lazily, both hands moving all over her, grasping and teasing and almost distracting her from his mouth as it made its steady way down below her belly button. She only realized what was happening when he started tugging at her underwear, his mouth not far behind, and a sudden burst of irrational nerves made her grab him by his shoulders and stop him.

She blurted out the first excuse that popped into her head. "Are you sure we should do this with the baby right there?"

Looking up at her with slightly confused eyes and his fingers still hooked into her underwear, he paused and glanced over at the bassinet before replying, "But she's asleep."

"I know, but... isn't it a little... weird?"

He blinked. "... But you don't like her being alone in her room, so I just thought while she's asleep, we could..."

She felt like an idiot. She _didn't_ think it was weird. Why would she? Adelaide was a tiny little sleeping baby and therefore completely oblivious. One would be hard pressed to find a parent who _hadn't_ done the very same thing at least a couple of times. It was a crappy excuse, and she felt herself growing more embarrassed by the moment.

"Yeah, I know, but I just... um..."

Bucky stayed where he was, his face not far from where she was pretty sure she couldn't handle it being at the moment, and as she floundered to come up with a reasonable explanation, something in his expression changed. She knew then that he was on to her, and he opened his mouth to surely zero in on what was truly afoot when she was saved by the bell, or rather saved by the hungry cry of her baby who had picked just the right moment to wake up and demand sustenance.

Bucky let go of her with a faint sigh, resignation taking over his features as he rolled off of her. Now it was time for Summer to feel guilty, pulling her top back down as she looked at Bucky and frowned apologetically. Even if she was being ridiculous about her body, she hadn't had any intention of leaving him hanging. She had been fully planning on making sure he came away satisfied, but now all she could do was touch his arm and say, "Crap, I'm sorry."

"It's okay," he shrugged, and she knew he meant it. He smiled to play it off and added, "I can wait, she can't."

She smiled and gave him a quick kiss, loving how understanding and patient he was, and then she got up and hurried to fetch Adelaide. After going through the usual routine - diaper check first, then about five thousand tiny kisses on her cheeks - then she climbed back into bed with Adelaide and got comfortable.

Adelaide closed her eyes as soon as she was happy and feeding, and Summer took a moment to mentally chastise herself. She might have felt like a beached whale, yes, but she was Bucky's beached whale and she had no reason to act so silly over being intimate again. But it was hard when she still had about fifty five extra pounds on her, an empty pouch of a stomach, hips that definitely didn't lie but also didn't say anything particularly flattering either, and a face that was rounder than it had ever been in her life. She felt like a literal cow - milk producing and all - and it was tough to feel even remotely sexy or when one felt like livestock. And a whale.

Especially when she was married to a specimen of a man who seemed to only get better and better as time went on. She was starting to feel like they were turning into one of those couples where people would see them and wonder how the _hell_ someone as gross as her managed to snag someone as disgustingly perfect as him.

"Are you okay?"

Her head snapped up, and she realized that she'd been staring at nothing with an increasingly disturbed expression. "Oh yeah," she immediately nodded to Bucky. "Just kind of... drifted off there."

Bucky's eyes lingered on her, and he again appeared to be on the verge of opening his mouth and saying something. But that was when his phone rang - interruptions were on their game that morning for sure - and it turned out to be Steve, asking him if he could come in to the facility then rather than later.

After Summer nodded to him that she had no objection to this, Bucky agreed and then hung up the phone. After that, the morning fell back into its usual sort of routine, with both of them getting ready and going about their normal business before Bucky headed out the door. Soon it would be Summer's turn, as she headed back to work in two weeks, but for then she was stuck at home with her kids with little else to do but wonder why she was such an idiot.

... Or maybe she could do something else.

After she'd kissed Bucky goodbye and gotten some food in both her and David's bellies, and fed Adelaide one more time, she got out her phone and dialed the number of a very close friend who luckily had the day off.

"Hey, Nat?" she said, getting David and Adelaide both loaded up into the car as she balanced her phone on her shoulder. "You know that thing you offered to help me with last week? Yeah... I'm gonna go ahead and take you up on that. Yep. I am totally in."

With any luck, the journey that she was about to embark on would hopefully help with her current problem. If it didn't, then she was pretty sure that she was just hopeless.

And of course, an idiot.

* * *

"You do realize you can't do _everything_ with a baby strapped on your chest, right?"

Summer looked down at the sweet sleeping baby curled up against her chest thanks to the baby-wearing mechanism that was wrapped around her torso, and Summer merely shrugged and kept on walking on the treadmill next to Natasha. "Yeah, but I _can_ do this."

Natasha smiled in amusement, walking leisurely on the treadmill next to Summer's. "Well, for what it's worth, I can understand why you don't want to put her down. She _is_ ridiculously cute."

"I know," Summer smiled widely. Then she glanced at the treadmill's control panel and asked, "Am I supposed to be going this slow?"

Natasha nodded. "Yes. A few weeks ago when you told me you might want my help getting back in shape, I went ahead and put a plan together for you because I figured you'd decide to go for it."

"Really?" Summer smiled.

She nodded again. "Yes, and it was a little tricky to figure out since you're a nursing mother. You need extra calories every day, so you can't just diet and lose weight. But I think I figured out a good balance."

"Okay," Summer nodded. Then she looked at the treadmill again, still walking at a somewhat slow pace, and she said, "I just don't feel like I'm really doing anything. Are you sure this is gonna help me at all?"

"I'm easing you back into it," Natasha explained. "Your body's been through a lot and it doesn't need to be overworked before it's ready."

Summer nodded, sighing a little. "Yeah, that makes sense. I just... I'm really ready to get back to normal, you know?"

"Yeah," she nodded understandingly. "We'll get there. It'll take time and commitment, but you'll get back in shape."

Summer nodded again, muttering, "Hopefully I don't lose my mind in the meantime."

"Why? Something happen?"

"No," Summer shook her head. "But that's kind of the problem. Now that I'm recovered and stuff, me and Bucky can... y'know... again, and he tried this morning to do some stuff, and I just panicked and acted like an idiot. I don't even know why. I know he doesn't care that I'm gross right now. I just..."

"Well, you're right," Natasha said. "He doesn't care. He never has. He's not the kind of man to lose interest in his wife because her body's gone through changes thanks to having his baby. If anything, it probably makes him even more into you."

Summer widened her eyes and said, "I don't even know how, but yeah."

"Well, if the roles were reversed and he was the one to gain some weight, would _you_ lose interest in him?" Natasha asked thoughtfully.

"Oh, frick no," Summer immediately replied. "Why would I ca-... _oh_. Okay. Point made."

Natasha smiled, shrugging and replying, "Even if you don't like your body right now, you shouldn't deprive yourself. Or him. You trust him right?"

"More than I trust myself," she admitted.

"So then trust him to make you feel good," Natasha replied. "And maybe once you see how much he likes you the way you are, you'll feel better about yourself."

"Maybe." Summer paused. "Probably not."

"Either way, no reason to turn down perfectly good orgasms."

Summer nearly choked on nothing and said, "Yeah, that's, uh... one way of putting it."

"One day you'll start using your big girl words," Natasha sighed, glancing at her and grinning.

"Yeah... probably not," Summer shook her head.

For the next hour or so, Natasha helped to ease Summer back into the concept of exercise in a way that left her a _little_ sore but nothing too unmanageable. Afterwards, they headed to the floor of the tower that Summer used to live on with everybody, which was where David had been the whole time. He was glued to Wanda's side, as per usual, but most of the others were gone that day. But Darcy was there, and she confiscated Adelaide almost immediately while Summer headed towards the shower in her old room.

She was taking down her hair and getting ready to start peeling her clothes off when there was a little knock on the bathroom door behind her. She turned and before she could ask who was there, the door opened and, to her surprise, Bucky's face was the one that peeked through with a smile.

"Oh hey," she smiled, turning around and watching him smile back and step inside, closing the door behind him. "Done with work already?"

"Slow day," he shrugged, stepping up to her and kissing her gently. His hair was up, tied in a little bun at the back of his head and the perfect amount of loose strands near his face, and his mostly black clothing complimented his look rather well. "I got here and the kids were happy and Nat told me you were taking a shower, so..."

She smiled as he kissed her again, though now she was suddenly nervous just like she had been in bed earlier that morning. When he pulled away, he ran his eyes over her slowly and noted, "You're all sweaty."

"Yeah..." she smiled, looking down at herself. "I just got done working out with Natasha, so..."

"Really?" he asked, a little surprised by this.

"Yeah," she said, nervously scratching at her head. "I'm starting slow, but... it's a start."

"Okay," he nodded, looking at her a bit strangely, like he was trying to figure her out.

"What?" she asked, trying to decipher the look on his face.

"Nothing, I just... you don't feel like you _have_ to, right?" he asked, the look in his eyes impressing upon her how very serious he found the matter.

"No!" she insisted, smiling like the idea was ridiculous. "No, it's because I want to. I want to get active again and work on getting back to where I was. And it's good for my leg, too."

He nodded, accepting that answer. "All right." Then he looked her over again, as slowly as before, and he said, "Adelaide's knocked out with Nat right now and David's trying to teach Vision how to play Minecraft, so..."

He gestured towards the shower with his head, and Summer smiled nervously before immediately trying to think of any excuse possible to get out of what he was suggesting. It wasn't that she didn't want to, of course - it was that same conflict of wanting it but feeling like she'd lose her mind and start crying if she had to stand naked in front of him in a fully lit room.

But the thing was, she barely had it in her to stop him or say no. He kissed her again, his right hand going to her hair to take it down for her, and the kiss got a bit deeper after her long locks fell in a dark wave around her head. Maybe if she just kept her eyes closed and focused on him and forced herself to stop thinking about how she looked...

"Summer?"

She opened her eyes, which she hadn't realized were squeezed so tightly shut that she looked like she was possibly in pain, and she looked up to find Bucky looking at her in that concerned, slightly suspicious way of his.

She swallowed and spit out the first excuse that popped into her head.

"I need to shave."

He blinked. She blinked. Was that really the best that she could do?

"I, uh... I haven't... since Adelaide was born... like... anywhere. So... I'm kind of gross and I don't really want to do all of _that_ in front of you."

Inside, she was smacking herself on the head with a giant sledgehammer. Bucky proved how weak of an excuse it was by pointing out, "Okay, but... I've... shaved your legs for you before. You know none of that bothers me."

"But it bothers me," she replied, and she wondered if he knew just how much bothered her and what was really at play.

If he did, it didn't affect his next action. True to how he had always been with her, he nodded and relented. "Okay. That's fine. Whatever makes you comfortable."

She breathed a sigh of relief as he kissed her again. _God_, she was lucky to have such an understanding and patient man.

"Watch the kids for me," she said after the kiss had ended. "And when I'm done, if you want, we can stay here and hang out with everyone for awhile, or... maybe go out somewhere? Do something fun?"

He nodded. "Yeah. We'll figure something out."

"Okay," she smiled, kissing him one more time. He smiled at her and quietly told her that he loved her before leaving the bathroom, leaving her there alone to roll her eyes and cover her face with both hands in a double-facepalm.

She was fairly sure that she had surpassed idiot status and was now roughly along the lines of a blundering, bewildered, brainless moron.

* * *

Later, after night had fallen on a day spent mostly at the tower, Bucky and his little family returned to their home outside of the city and fell into their usual nighttime routine. Summer did a bit of cleaning so nobody would have to the next morning, David threw a controller in Bucky's hand and snuggled up next to him, and Adelaide stayed up for about two hours. Now that she was getting bigger, she had longer periods of being awake and alert, and these periods usually came about at night.

It was nice. Bucky never would have thought before that he'd have such a domestic, comfortable and happy homelife, but somehow he'd gotten incredibly lucky and he wouldn't have changed a thing about it.

Well, maybe _one_ thing, but he was working on that. Clearly, Summer was having some internal issues and was not very willing to talk about it. But he wouldn't let that continue on for long.

That night, after Summer had gotten her tasks done and plopped down on the couch next to Bucky and David with Adelaide in one arm and a strange contraption in the other, they both turned to look at her as she smiled and handed the baby to Bucky.

"Here, can you take her? I have an idea."

Bucky put his controller down and happily took his wide-awake baby, smiling broadly at her as he settled her into his arms. He wasn't as nervous now to hold her, and Summer had been right about his control over his metal arm being more than good enough to prevent accidentally harming her. He kissed her cheek and she stared up at him with her big blue eyes, sucking on a pink pacifier and perfectly happy to be where she was.

Bucky looked up after a few moments and was about to ask Summer what her idea was when she rendered the question moot. Her shirt was up and the contraption in her hand was now attached to her breast, making odd mechanical sounds as it started pumping milk out of it and into a bottle. It looked vaguely like a torture device, and it was nothing like the sweet image of her nursing Adelaide directly, and apparently David agreed. He was staring and looked positively aghast, and quite grossed out.

"I hate pumping," Summer admitted, frowning at the device as the bottle it was attached to slowly began to fill up. "It feels so weird."

"Why _are_ you pumping?" Bucky asked, trying not to cringe for her. How did doing that not hurt?

"Well," she sighed, "she's six weeks old now, and you haven't gotten to feed her once. I was thinking that maybe tonight, when she's ready to fall asleep, you could feed her and get her to bed. If you wanted."

"Oh," he replied, surprised. Then he smiled. "Yeah. I'd love that."

She smiled back. "I thought you would. And she'll be ready to go to sleep soon, so... you could go ahead and get David to bed, and by that time I'll be done torturing myself with this stupid pump."

Bucky laughed quietly and nodded. "Okay." Then he turned to David and said, "You heard her, buddy. Let's go."

David was tired after his happy day at the tower, so he got up without argument. He hugged Summer when she held out her free arm to him, and then with Adelaide still in Bucky's arms, Bucky followed David to his room and picked out a movie to put on for him while he brushed his teeth and changed into pajamas. David used to demand a bedtime story every night, but at some point over the last few months he'd decided that bedtime stories were for babies and he was _definitely_ no baby. Now he preferred to fall asleep to his favorite movies.

That night it was _Inside Out_. Once it was on, David climbed into bed and wasted no time in curling up under the covers. His eyes were already heavy, and Bucky smiled and told him goodnight as he mussed his hair. David signed goodnight back to him, and then sat up suddenly so he could give his sister a kiss on the cheek. Then he patted her head and laid back down, immediately closing his eyes and drifting off in minutes.

Bucky smiled and turned off the light. The kid was adorable.

After, he headed back out to the living room and was greeted by Summer smiling brightly and handing him a bottle filled to the very brim with an impressive amount of milk. He blinked and wondered how just one of her breasts could make _that_ much at once, but before he could verbalize the thought, she started giving him instructions.

"Okay, so the nipple on this bottle is a slow drip one," she explained. "It's supposed to be like a real one, so it doesn't just flow and flow. She's gotta make it flow. But still, if it comes out too fast for her and she coughs, just take it out for a minute and let her have a break, and then offer it back to her. Once she's asleep she'll probably keep sucking on it even though she's not really drinking, so once she's out-out, switch it with her pacifier. Then you should be able to put her in her bassinet without her waking up. Oh, and change her diaper first, before you feed her."

"Okay," he nodded, instantly memorizing all of the instructions. Then he furrowed his brows and asked, "Aren't you coming with me?"

"Nope," she smiled. "I'm about to throw a giant batch of cookies in the oven, and anyway... you haven't really gotten any alone time with her. I think this would be good for both of you. Some nice little bonding time."

He smiled back, though he instantly felt a bit nervous now. But at the same time, if something went wrong, Summer would only be one hall away. He could do this. "Okay."

She smiled wider and then leaned closer to kiss him first, then Adelaide. "Goodnight, baby. Just you and Daddy tonight."

Bucky smiled at Summer as she straightened up and rubbed the back of Adelaide's head. Then she looked up at him and smiled back before giving him one more kiss and saying, "Okay. Go on. I'll be in cookie land if you need me."

"Okay," he chuckled, turning and walking towards the nursery down the hall. Adelaide hadn't slept there once, but her changing table and rocking chair was there, and maybe she could also sleep in her crib for a few hours that night. That would give him and Summer some time later to talk about what he knew was bothering her.

But for then, Adelaide had his full attention. He laid her on her changing table carefully, changed her diaper even more carefully and also changed her clothes. He put her in a warm pastel purple sleeper, and altogether it took him about ten minutes to get her ready for bed. He took his time, being acutely aware of his left hand and how very tiny and vulnerable she was, and she was perfectly happy through it all. Being inexperienced, he wasn't quite fully aware of how lucky he was to have a relatively easy baby.

Then he picked her back up and headed to the comfy rocking chair on the other side of the room. He sat down, bottle in his free left hand, and after a bit of adjusting, he got her nice and comfortable in his arms once more. Then he plucked the pacifier from her mouth, and she wasn't happy about that. She whimpered and began to scrunch her face up preparing to cry, but he was quick to soothe her with his voice and offer her the bottle. She wasn't sure about it at first, as she'd never been fed that way before, but once a tiny drop of the milk dripped on to her lip, she realized what it was and accepted the bottle.

Bucky breathed a long sigh of relief, having been unsure for a moment if the whole feeding thing was going to work. But she was hungry and once she got the bottle flowing, her expression became one of contentment. She stared up at him all the while, and Bucky was incredibly grateful to Summer for giving him this. It was the sweetest thing he'd ever experienced.

To his surprise, she stayed awake through the whole feeding, and she also drained the whole bottle. She kept her eyes on him the whole time, and the minute she spit the bottle out, she spared him the trouble of having to burp her by letting out the girliest little burp he'd ever heard all on her own. He grinned and set the bottle aside, then held her a little closer as he started gently rocking the chair back and forth. He dropped his lips to her forehead, and her eyes began to flutter shut as the pull of sleep became impossible for her to fight.

"I love you, baby girl," he murmured after stealing one more kiss. Her eyes opened then, just long enough to meet his own, and then something _amazing_ happened. She smiled for the very first time, right at him, and then closed her eyes and fell asleep as the smile slowly faded from her tiny lips.

He was stunned. He stared at her in awe, unable to believe what he was seeing and that her very first smile had been at _him_. If he wasn't already head over heels for the little girl, then that was the moment when he knew that he was irreversibly wrapped around her exceedingly small finger and would be until the day that he died. Not only did he love her more than words could say, but he truly believed for the first time that she really, _really_ loved him too.

It took him a bit before he was ready to put her in her crib. He soaked up the moment and all of the happiness and love that came with it, and by the time he was ready, a smile of his own was stuck to his face. He got up and walked her to the crib, placed her inside and watched as she stirred a bit before relaxing again and staying in her deep slumber. Then, after a few more moments spent staring at her, he grabbed the baby monitor and headed out to the kitchen.

The house smelled like a bakery thanks to the cookies that Summer was baking, and he found her sitting at the table tapping at the keyboard of her laptop as the latest batch cooked in the oven. She peered over the monitor and smiled, "How'd it go?"

"You're not gonna believe this," he grinned, sitting next to her, "but she smiled at me. _Really_ smiled at me."

Summer's eyes popped wide open. "You mean while she was awake?! Because she smiles in her sleep but she hasn't had her real first smile yet!"

"I know," he grinned wider. "But she did. She was still awake and she just looked up at me, and..."

Laptop forgotten, he watched Summer's eyes fill with tears instantly. "Oh my God! And I _missed_ it! Dammit! But that's so awesome! I can't believe it... she's not a little newborn anymore. She's getting big and smiling and the next thing you know she'll be laughing!" After Bucky chuckled at that, she smiled and added more quietly, "I'm so glad you got to have that with her. She really loves you, you know. Your voice was the first one she turned her head for, and now you're the first person she ever smiled at."

He smiled, looking down and trying not to tear up himself. It was tough, seeing as he felt like his heart might explode any minute. Then he looked up when he felt Summer take his hand, and he watched her as she said, "And... I've been wanting to tell you this for awhile but we've been so busy and I keep forgetting or falling asleep, but... you've been really amazing this whole time and you've helped me so much. I didn't have anything like this when David was born, and this has just been such an incredible six weeks, seriously. I'm just really, really happy."

He smiled and squeezed her hand. "Me too."

She looked like she was about to say something else, but then the timer on the oven went off and she was hopping up to take the cookies out. He watched her from the table as she put the baking sheet on top of the stove, and then he noticed the plate full of cookies next to it that she'd already made while he'd been busy with the kids. She always made a lot of cookies at once, freezing whichever ones didn't get eaten within the first day or so, and these ones were his favorites - double chocolate peanut butter. It sounded weird in theory, but they were rather amazing.

He got up and headed her way as she took the newest ones off of the baking sheet and set them aside to cool. She munched on one in the process, sighing and then muttering, "I really need to stop. I've already eaten two and if I don't stop I'll eat twenty."

"I don't blame you," he said, but she turned around and shook her head as she still held the cookie in her hand.

"No, seriously, I have to stop. I'm wrecking my new diet within the first eight hours of being on it."

"New diet?" he repeated, furrowing his brows.

"Yup. Nothing crazy, but just... eating more balanced and not pigging out like I'm still pregnant. Goes along with the new exercise plan."

He nodded, then said a bit more seriously, "I know I said this earlier, but... you know you don't _have_ to do all that, right?"

"I know," she nodded. "I want to. I'm sure it's obvious by now how much I hate looking like this."

He looked her over, her hair up and simple, comfortable clothes on, face makeup free and still just as beautiful to him as when she had a full face of the stuff. He shrugged and said, "You're beautiful, Summer. That hasn't changed."

Still holding the cookie, she rolled her eyes and said, "Well, you're _supposed_ to say that."

He narrowed his eyes slightly. "What?"

"I just... look," she sighed, gesturing helplessly with her hands, "it's hard when you walk around all day looking like a god. I mean, you're _perfect_. And I'm a mess. I'm fat, I'm constantly shoving food in my face, and I'm annoying because I can't stop thinking about how fat I am."

He really hated to hear her say things like that, but even more he hated the fact that she felt that way about herself. Without missing a beat, he replied, "I can stop working out if you want."

"No," she shook her head. "That's not what I want. I'm just saying that right now we're pretty... mismatched, you know? I mean, I've always felt like you're way prettier than I am, but..."

Bucky stared at her for a moment, then said, "Give me the cookie."

She stared back in slight confusion but handed it over anyway. He then proceeded to shove the entire thing in his mouth - which was kind of surprising, because it wasn't small - and then as he chewed it, he said with his mouth full, "Give me the rest."

"What? No! Why?"

He swallowed. "Because I will stop working out and start eating _everything_ if that's what it takes to make you feel comfortable. Now hand me the plate."

She shifted so that she was standing in front of the plate, smiling as she said, "No! I didn't mean -"

He sighed and reached around her, grabbing for the plate anyway, and she started laughing as she fought him. They ended up in an impromptu wrestling match, both giggling and Bucky eventually emerging as the winner, plate of cookies in hand as he dashed backwards to avoid her snatching it back. He then picked up two and started eating them at the same time, and Summer laughed some more before trying to take the plate back again. He just held it up over his head, too high for her to reach.

"Okay fine, I give up," she said, holding her hands up and leaning back against the counter as her shoulders sagged. "You made your point."

He set the plate down on the table not too far away from him, and he swallowed his latest giant mouthful of cookie before he stepped closer to her and said, "Well, I mean it. And I'm not stupid. I know why you've been avoiding me."

She frowned, looking down and fiddling with her hands. He stopped when he was only inches from her, putting his left hand on the counter behind her and leaning there as his other hand touched her chin and tipped her head up. "Come on, Summer. I know you get insecure sometimes but this isn't you."

"Exactly," she said, gesturing to her body. "This isn't me. I hate looking like this. And feeling like this."

"I know," he said, touching her arm comfortingly, "and if you want to get back in shape and eat better, then I'll support you and help you. You know I will. But it has to be what you want. I don't want you doing it because you're afraid I won't be attracted to you anymore, because you should know by now that nothing's gonna change that."

She nodded, looking down again. "For the most part, yeah, I want to do it for me. But I'd be lying if I said some stupid part of my brain is still kinda scared you'll see me naked and be like 'ew gross, who let in Back-Fat Betty and Tina the Talking Tummy'." When he furrowed his brows in confusion, she waved a hand and said, "I forgot you haven't seen _White Chicks_ yet."

Moving right along from whatever reference _that_ was, Bucky said, "Trust me, I'm not gonna think that. And you need to understand something. You look like this now because you had a baby. You had _my_ baby. I don't know about other guys, but that makes me want you even more."

She smiled and started fidgeting a little more, even blushing a little already. He smiled and brushed his finger across her cheek. "It's true. You remember how I was when you were pregnant and your body started changing." She nodded, and he decided to give her a little nudge. "Tell me what I thought of that."

"You said... um... you said I was a goddess," she replied, blushing more. "And you couldn't keep your hands off me. Even more than usual."

"Exactly. And now I see you with Adelaide, feeding her from your own body, which... that's incredible," he said with full sincerity. "You take such amazing care of her, just like you've always taken amazing care of David. And me."

"Well... thank you," she said, faint blush still on her cheeks.

He got a little closer to her, so that his body was almost _just_ touching hers, and his hand was cradling her head now. "You're welcome. I just want you to let me show you instead of tell you."

"I know," she said quietly, almost timidly placing her hand on his chest, looking at his lips. "I'm just _really_ nervous. And it's not just the weight. I pushed a _human being_ out of my body, got stitched up and had to heal... what if it's... different now, you know? What if I don't feel as good to you as I used to? And what if my boobs leak all over you and you get grossed out and... y'know... can't keep going because the mood is ruined?"

He regarded her for a moment, taking all of her concerns very seriously even though he thought they were all completely unrealistic and impossible. "I'm not worried. If it's different, it's different. Won't change a thing for me. And if you leak on me, do you really think I'd be disgusted by that?"

She shrugged, her eyes completely innocent and vulnerable as she looked up at him. "I don't know."

For a moment, he was almost hurt. Several years now of unconditional love and devotion from him and she still had these thoughts. Would she ever stop doubting herself and his desire for her, or would she forever need constant reassuring that he did, in fact, love every last inch of her body regardless of how much it weighed or what it looked like or how it functioned?

If that was the case, it was lucky then that he didn't mind constantly and _thoroughly_ reassuring her.

"Then let me prove it to you," he said, voice lower and more purposeful than it had been before. He moved in closer, his chest touching hers now, and his eyes fell to her lips as he said, "Stop running away from me."

He watched her swallow, anxiety still clearly visible in her eyes, and then he lowered his head and pressed a kiss to her neck. She smelled good, like flowers and a hint of chocolate and _her_, and he would lose himself in her if she would only let him. Her hands slid to his back and held on to his shirt, and he could feel her breaths grow shorter as he kissed her most sensitive places just how he knew she loved it. His left hand left the counter and went to her waist, his right one still cradling her head as it tilted to encourage him, and he had a feeling that it might be difficult for him to maintain his patience. He wanted her so badly, but he had to take his time and ease her back into this. He couldn't overwhelm her and add to her discomfort. She had to want it as badly as he did.

And so, when he lifted his head and let his hands wander down to her hips, he looked into her eyes and leaned his forehead against hers as he asked, "Do you trust me?"

She nodded without hesitation. "More than anyone."

He then swiftly lifted her up and set her on top of the counter, making her gasp in surprise. He stood between her now-open legs and didn't break eye contact as he replied, "Good."

Then his lips crashed on to hers, and just like that, his blood felt like it had been lit on fire and was raging through his veins with no other outlet but _feeling_ and touching. He'd show her that she had nothing to be afraid of, nothing to be nervous about, and he'd show her as many times as it took to convince her.

* * *

The minute he placed her on top of the kitchen counter, she was a goner. She was always going to be a goner, but now there was truly no turning back.

He kissed her with passion and promise, more so than he had that morning when she had woken up in his arms prior to his attempted seduction. His hands were on her hips, curled there tight and firm, and her hands were now in his hair that he'd taken down a few hours earlier, when they'd come home. Heat uncurled in her belly when his tongue touched hers, playing and teasing and making her moan when he eventually broke away. His eyes were dilated and dark as they took her in, and then he took her hair down for the second time that day. Unlike the first time, however, she knew she wouldn't run away or make an excuse to delay what they both wanted.

After her hair fell down behind her back, long enough to just graze the counter she was sitting on, he kissed her again, this time a little harder. His hands wandered, moving to her hips and then yanking her closer, so that _everything_ was pressed against him. Her fingers moved on autopilot, sliding from his hair down to his shoulders and grabbing his shirt and pulling. She kept pulling until he broke away long enough to take the shirt off, and then her hands were on his perfect bare chest as his lips descended upon hers once more. She moaned and moved her hands to his back, not at all minding how he punctuated a particularly skilled motion of his tongue with a thrust of his hips right into hers. She could feel him through his pants and she wanted to feel more, sick of letting her silly fears get in the way of the rich chemistry between them.

He broke the kiss, hands pulling up her top as he panted against her cheek and murmured, "I'd fuck you right here if I wasn't trying to take this slow."

She lost her breath, heart beating faster at those words. "... Rain check for that, then?"

He grinned slightly, pulling back a little and looking her hungrily, from top to bottom. "Come here."

And then, as soon as the words had left his mouth, he had picked her back up and was carrying her out of the kitchen. She grabbed the baby monitor as he took them to their room, kissing her all the while and making her blood run hotter with each touch. Then, once they were in their room and the door was closed and locked behind them, his lips left hers as he gently laid her down on the bed. She set the monitor on their bedside table, then leaned up on her elbows as he quickly took off his jeans. She had no shame in watching, nor in biting her lip in both anticipation and anxiety as he lowered himself down on the bed and started crawling towards her, now fully naked as opposed to her fully clothed state.

Once he reached her, he kissed her into oblivion and gently laid her down on her back. She could tell in the touch of his hands and his lips how much he was holding back for her, but she was incredibly grateful for his restraint. He laid on top of her, putting enough of his weight on her for her to feel that familiar sensation of safety but not enough to restrict her breathing or be too much. He kissed her until she was breathless, her hand fisted in his hair and body itching for more though she was still a little hesitant.

That was when he pulled away, breathing hard already and letting his eyes drop to her shirt as his right hand began to push it up a bit. Then his eyes met hers and he asked, "You okay?"

She nodded. "Yeah."

"Just relax, okay?" he said lowly, drawing up her top all the way and pulling it from her arms. That left her in her pants and the nursing bra that had been a present from Natasha back at her baby shower months earlier. It was pretty and lacy and even gave her a bit of a push up, so at least there was that. It didn't go unappreciated either, as Bucky's eyes were instantly drawn there.

He didn't ignore the rest of her, however, even though she might have wished he would have. Her stomach was one of her main areas of insecurity, but it was the first part of her that he slid his metal fingers across. She shuddered slightly from the coldness, sucking in a breath as those fingers danced up towards her ribs. Then he laid a kiss just above her navel and slowly worked his way up until he was kissing the tops of her breasts above the cups of her bra. She arched her back to help him when his right hand moved underneath her to undo the clasp of her bra, and then he was pulling it off of her and tossing it to the floor.

Using his left arm to hold himself up, he ran his right hand over each breast, just barely teasing to keep from stimulating them too much. His mouth followed after, just as careful and gentle, and she closed her eyes and tightened her hold on his hair. It all felt so good, feeling his skin on hers and his mouth leaving open-mouthed kisses along her chest and increasingly lower, and she couldn't believe that she had actually been _avoiding_ this.

He kissed all the way down to the waistband of her comfortable, roomy and not exactly sexy sweatpants, and then he drew away and sat up to take them off. After they hit the floor, his hands went to her thighs and his eyes raked over her mostly-naked form. She felt like starting to squirm a little, but he seemed to notice this and didn't dare let her slip inside of her head again.

His lips were back on hers in an instant, his hand roaming up and down her outer thigh as he then told her, "Stay with me, baby. Don't think."

"I'm trying," she told him, truly doing her very best.

"You're beautiful," he assured her. "Do you know what I see when I look at you like this?"

She bit her lip and prayed he didn't say any type of sea-dwelling mammal or farm animal. He didn't, of course.

"I see a woman," he kissed her lips, "who saved my life and made me fall in love with her." His hand nudged her leg away from her other one. "Who carried my child in her body," he added, sliding his hand up her inner thigh as he kissed her neck, "and is just as beautiful like this as she's ever been."

She swallowed, meeting his gaze with a deep blush on her face as he lifted his head and stared deep in her eyes. His fingers were _very_ close to their destination when he said, "Touch me, Summer, and feel how much I mean what I'm saying."

Rather than wait for her, he took her hand and placed it on himself. Her breath hitched and her blush deepened, and she moaned when he kissed her and placed his hand back on her thigh. She kept her hand where it was, unable to help but tease him a little with it, but he quickly brushed it away and said in a slightly strained tone, "Don't, because I won't last long."

"Oh," she half-squeaked, knowing now that he really _was_ incredibly affected by her. One of these days, it would stop surprising her.

"See what you do to me?" he said, kissing her again, a little sloppy and entirely perfect. He pulled away and then touched her, fingers sneaking inside her panties and making her gasp in slight surprise as he watched greedily. "So fucking wet," he marveled roughly, not daring to take his eyes off of her face as her mouth fell open and a whimper escaped. "_God_, I've missed this."

She had too, and the way that she moaned softly and dug her nails into his back told him exactly how much. He knew just how to touch her, how to wind her up and get her exactly where he wanted her, which was loose and relaxed and so focused on her pleasure that she wouldn't even think to get nervous when his mouth replaced his hand.

She had barely even noticed that his lips had been slowly moving down, dragging down her body until they were _there_, and a surprised and _very_ loud cry was the result. He looked up and she looked down, her head spinning and his mouth curling up in a grin before he closed his eyes and _really_ tasted her. She gasped and let herself fall back completely on the bed, everything she was feeling amplifying when _he_ groaned like he was finally getting something he'd been desperately craving for some time. It was too much and it had been so long, and he managed to make her stop thinking completely and give in fully without one nervous or insecure thought plaguing her mind.

It wasn't long before she was covering her own mouth with her fingertips so she wouldn't scream and wake the kids. It was, apparently, a little _too_ fast for Bucky, who barely gave her a chance to catch her breath before he simply kept going. At that point, she couldn't do much of anything to stifle her moans aside from burying her face against the side of her pillow and hoping for the best.

When she had nearly fallen off the bed in her uncontrollable twists and turns in response to his constant barrage of pleasure, he finally stopped and gave them both a chance to catch their breaths. She laid there on the bed, limbs loose and brain utterly and blissfully blank, only opening her eyes when he crawled back up her body wearing the most self-satisfied grin she'd ever seen grace his features. She couldn't even give him crap about it, being far too sated to do anything but smile lazily and then wrap her arms around his neck as he leaned down and kissed her.

It was a deeper kiss than she had expected, but she knew exactly why he was doing it. He pulled away, his expression _filthy_ as he said, "I could do that all day."

"I think you just did," she giggled breathlessly.

He grinned back and shrugged. "See, you were worried that you'd be different somehow, but... you're every bit as delicious as you've always been," he said, kissing her softly. "Still tight around my fingers. Still fucking perfect. _Everywhere_."

She wasn't sure that she could adequately express how much of a relief his words were. She didn't doubt him one bit, didn't suspect at all that he was just telling her what she wanted to hear, and it all actually brought tears to her eyes. She covered them up by pulling him down and kissing him, wrapping her legs around him and urging him closer, needing him to take her the rest of the way and feel him inside of her. He needed it too, but he saw a tear escape her eye when he broke the kiss and it made him pause as he wiped it away with his finger.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?"

She shook her head and smiled. "Nothing. Nothing. I'm just _really_ happy. I was so scared of this and I just feel so stupid now."

"You're not stupid," he assured her, tracing her cheekbone with his thumb. "Remember what I've told you before about talking that way about yourself? Saying things like that, insulting yourself. What did I say about that?"

... She definitely remembered the exact conversation that he was referring to. "You told me not to. And to be... good... and do what you said."

"Exactly," he said, fingers drifting down to her chest and absently teasing her breast. "I still mean that. Maybe now more than ever. Can you do that for me? Can you be good again?"

She nodded. "Yes."

"Yes what?"

A shiver shot down her spine. _Oh yeah_, she'd missed these moments a _lot_. "Yes sir."

"Good girl," he murmured before kissing her again, this time with a vengeance that belied his own desperation. He was so hard against her, his muscles tense and skin hot as it slid against hers. His hair was damp now, falling in his face and tickling hers as they kissed, and she couldn't stand to wait or make him wait any longer.

She took matters into her own hands, literally, and reached down between them to take him in her hand and guide him to where they both needed him to be. He stared at her as she did this, eyes growing even more heated and dark, and the only thing she said before the waiting came to an end was, "Go slow, okay?"

He nodded, and then with her help, they were finally joined at last. Bucky instantly groaned with deep, palpable relief and pleasure, and Summer was just as relieved that it didn't hurt at all. She was sure that Bucky deserved all the credit for that, having made sure that she was as ready as she could have possibly been.

He went slow, just as he'd promised, and they both took their time in savoring every last bit of one another and the intimacy that they were lucky enough to share. It was just right, slow enough to keep him steady and still fast enough to satisfy. They fit together as they always had, proving her fears unfounded, and when he ended up sitting up in the bed and pulling her on his lap, it only got better from there.

Clutching one another and kissing like their lives depended on it, they rocked against each other until they couldn't hold out any longer and fell apart. Bucky buried his face in her neck, muffling the sounds he couldn't hold back, and Summer pulled hard on his hair as her back arched and head fell back with her own pleasure. It was perfect and sweet, well worth the wait, and neither of them wanted to let go of the other for quite some time after.

They ended up lying on the bed, tangled up in each other and still breathing hard, sweat slicking their skin and mingling as they looked at one another and smiled like the idiots that they were for each other. Summer felt a little like her old self again, some of her old confidence coming back in those lazy, perfect moments where nothing existed but them.

Her body wasn't what she wanted it to be, but it would get better. She would work on it, and she'd eventually get back in shape. And in the meantime, she would let Bucky love her the way that she deserved to be loved, and she'd let him show it however he saw fit. She trusted him implicitly, even if she hadn't been showing it as well as she could have up until that night.

"I love you," she said quietly and happily, cradled in his arms and feeling utterly safe and completely satisfied.

"Love you too," he smiled, holding her a little tighter. "You okay?"

"Oh I am so okay," she grinned, kissing his thumb as it passed over her lower lip. "Better than okay. I think I could sleep for a week after _that_."

He grinned back. "I could sleep for a few hours... then go again."

She laughed softly. "Oh I'm sure. And normally I'd be all for it and one step ahead of you, but..."

In a moment of almost bizarrely good timing, a very familiar little cry was then heard over the baby monitor. They both paused as the sound hit their ears, and Summer smiled warmly at Bucky as he sighed and closed his eyes. She kissed his lips softly and said, "I'll be right back."

"No," he shook his head, gently pulling his arms free and moving to sit up. "Stay here. I'll get her."

"Okay," she smiled, watching and enjoying the view as he got up and threw some clothes on. He tossed her t-shirt to her, and after she caught it, he _winked_ at her and then headed out of their room to grab their daughter.

For the rest of the night, she couldn't wipe the smile off of her face. Now that she had a little piece of herself back thanks to Bucky and his unfailing love for her, she felt better than ever about the future. She had a lot of work ahead of her, in more ways than one, but she knew that she'd get there.

And even if she didn't, the man that she loved would continue to love and adore her just the same. And that, she knew, made her one of the luckiest women on the planet.

**A/N: One more chapter down! Lol :) this was a very relationship-focused chapter, and the next one will feature more characters that we haven't seen for awhile, like Paul and some others. And I know I keep saying this but WE ARE GETTING CLOSE TO GOOD STUFF. I'm excited. Getting progressively more excited each week :D thank you to midnightwings96 who is always incredibly helpful and indispensable in her help with keeping this story going, and thank you to all of you lovely amazing readers for continuing to follow this story and leave feedback :D I'll see you all next week! :D **


	49. Chapter 49

_Six months later _

Life was going by entirely too quickly, but Summer couldn't complain when all in all, everything was going pretty darn well. In fact, she was so happy that she couldn't even complain about being more sleep deprived than she'd ever been in her life.

When Adelaide was two months old, Summer went back to work. Five days a week, either she or Bucky (but usually she) shuttled David to school, and then it was on to the tower for her job coordinating events for Stark Industries. If Bucky wasn't working, she would leave Adelaide and a fridge full of her milk at home with him. But if he was needed at the Avengers facility, and more often than not he was, then she simply brought Adelaide to work with her. Her office became littered with toys, baby seats and blankets and other things, but she actually worked better and faster when she didn't have to worry about Adelaide being unhappy with someone else watching her. She made it work, much to the admiration of all of her colleagues and, most of all, her husband.

Then at the end of the day, she'd pick David up, go home, wrangle up dinner, spend a few hours with her family, put the kids to bed, and then pass out face-first in bed before midnight before waking up the next day to do it all over again. Bucky helped with cleaning and the kids and whatever else was needed - other than food, because he hadn't figured that out yet - and then he'd be passed out right next to her.

In the middle of all of _that_, Summer also happened to lose all but eight pounds of her baby weight thanks to her strenuous and very successful exercise regimen that Natasha kept her on track with. Those eight pounds stayed, predictably, in her chest and her hips, and there was no getting rid of it. She didn't mind it though, because it only exaggerated her hourglass shape more and she was so happy to finally have something resembling her body back that a measly eight pounds wouldn't get to her. And Bucky in particular seemed rather fond of those extra pounds.

Not that he hardly ever got the chance to show it. Between their schedules and the kids and life in general, sex was even rarer than sleep. Even when they would take showers together, it was literally to save time rather than do anything scandalous. That part of things was a little sad, but... when one was sleep deprived and exhausted, there wasn't much time left over to dwell on such matters.

More important was David, who was excelling at school and had fully adjusted to having a little sister, and Adelaide, who hit all of her milestones early and was astonishingly healthy. She giggled first at two and a half months old, when David dropping a relatively heavy book on his foot made him react in a highly overdramatic fashion, which the baby apparently found hilarious. After that, she became a literal ball of giggles, and she was the smiliest and cheeriest baby Summer had ever seen. She also didn't get sick when David brought a stomach virus home from school that Summer caught almost immediately. Bucky didn't get it either, thanks to his built-in immunity, and by all accounts, Summer was fairly sure that Adelaide had benefited from his serum as well. She wasn't inhumanly bright or strong, but she was at the very peak of growth and cognitive and motor development.

She was also incredibly affectionate. She gave big baby kisses freely - even to Steve, whose face she tried to eat more than once - and aside from playing and eating, some of her favorite pastimes were listening to her daddy or her brother play piano, staring at the awesome Asgardian mobile that Thor had gifted her with, and making everyone she met fall in love with her. It was no exaggeration - nobody was immune. Even Nick Fury had cracked a smile for her when she gave him a big giant smile from Bucky's arms one day that Summer had picked him up from the facility.

Really, those seven months were some of the most stable of Summer's life. The routine was good and reliable, and with all of the work that both she and Bucky were doing, they managed to save up a fair sum of money even with their rent, car, and David's school payments. Summer's book was still in the editing process, but it was nearing its estimated publishing date quickly. Her blog gained new followers every week, and most of them were fantastic. People seemed to love hearing about the seemingly mundane details of her every day life and about the family that she gave superhero codenames to. Bucky and David were still Batman &amp; Robin, and Adelaide was Batgirl. Summer liked to joke and call herself Alfred from time to time.

It was hectic, but it was good. It was _very_ good. Summer's house was never quiet, and she liked it that way. She often had quite a few visitors when she was home, and one of those days came when Adelaide was seven and a half months old and Summer was on the phone with Bucky, who was busy at work.

It was a rainy day, and thunder rolled quietly in the distance outside of the house as Paul sat on Summer's couch, holding Adelaide on his lap and staring at her with the utmost seriousness as she chewed on a toy butterfly. David sat nearby, watching his uncle's antics with amusement.

"Uncle. Paul."

Adelaide blinked at him, still gnawing away.

"Uncle. Paul. Paul. Paul. Paul." He paused and added even more seriously, "_Paul_."

She smiled and babbled, "Ba ba!"

"Yes, ba ba. Awesome. Now, listen to me, okay, because it's very important to me that your first word is either Uncle or Paul. So, let's go over it again. Uncle Paul. Paul. Paul. _Pa-ullll_..."

"Okay, that's enough," the woman sitting next to him said, reaching and snatching the baby from his hands and setting her on her lap instead. She then smiled and said very sweetly, "Was your uncle getting on your nerves? Yeah, I bet he was... besides, we all know what your first words are _really_ going to be. Auntie Nat."

Adelaide smiled and then dropped her toy, exclaiming "Ba ba ba!" as she flapped her hands excitedly and giggled, even bouncing a little. Natasha ate it up, of course, kissing her cheeks and cooing, "Oh yeah, there you go, Auntie Nat it is..."

Paul rolled his eyes and waved her off dismissively, and then the man sitting at Natasha's other side sat forward and shook his head. "Nope. Uh uh. It's bad enough that you got to hold this kid first. Hand her over. I'll show you how it's done."

Natasha rolled her eyes but handed the baby over anyway, and this time Adelaide sobered up a little and eyed the man a bit warily. He held her carefully on his lap and then brought his face to her level. "All right, Addie. That's right, I'm calling you Addie. One day you're gonna say your first word. Most babies have boring first words. Mama, Dada, puppy, poop... eh. We've all heard it before. You want to stand out? You want to be unique, make your mark on the world of first baby words? Then here's what you say: Clint."

Adelaide continued to look at him suspiciously, and Natasha protested, "Clint?! What baby's gonna be able to say that before _mama_?"

Clint waved her off. "I'm working here, Nat. You listening, Addie? Clint. Clint. _Clint_. I'll settle for Hawkeye."

For some reason, as soon as he said _Hawkeye_, Adelaide burst out laughing again and erupted into a new string of ba ba's that put all the others to shame. Clint laughed and then stood up, holding her tightly and saying, "All right, I win. Let's go tell your mama who your new favorite is."

"I'm her favorite!" Paul protested from the couch.

"We settled this months ago. I'm obviously her favorite," Natasha pointed out, crossing her arms. David then handed her a controller after having watched everyone try to individually brainwash his sister into saying their names, and Natasha accepted her fate of wandering around Minecraft's creative mode as Clint carried Adelaide into the kitchen where Summer was.

She was talking to Bucky on the phone and fixing David a sandwich, giggling softly and speaking deliberately quietly into the phone, and Clint told Adelaide conspiratorially, "There's your mama, talking to your daddy on the phone. She's being quiet, which means they're being disgusting. They do that a lot. See, kid, before you came along, they stayed at the farm with me for a few months. Worst months of my life." He paused and then looked at Adelaide. "I'm kidding. But they sure as hell didn't know how to be quiet _then_."

Summer heard Clint then, turning around and blushing a little at being caught before smiling. "Hey! Aw, look at her! She likes you."

"Of course she does," Clint said, squeezing the little girl a little bit and making her giggle again. "Everybody loves ol' Uncle Hawkeye, right?"

"Duh!" Summer smiled before saying into the phone, "Yeah, Clint's here. And Natasha and Paul. Now stop trying to change the subject and tell me what you want for your birthday!"

Clint watched as Summer then blushed more, smacked her palm to her forehead, and whisper-yelled, "Are you _trying_ to kill me? Stop saying these things when I'm in front of people!"

Clint shook his head and then told Adelaide, "See? Disgusting. I hope you keep them up all night for at least another two years. Serves them right for defiling my barn _twice_." Then he paused and asked, "Would you like to see a limited edition action figure of myself?"

Adelaide smiled and exclaimed "Ba!" which Clint took as a yes as he walked away with her. Meanwhile, Summer continued to plead uselessly with Bucky as she cut David's sandwich into four pieces.

"Come _on_," she half-whined. "You're really hard to shop for. I mean, you already have pretty much everything I would think to get you - fancy knives, weapons, your awesome bike, a watch. I have no clue what to get you!"

"So don't get me anything," he replied from his end of the line. "You could always write me something instead. You know how much I liked _that_ present."

Summer sighed, putting the sandwich stuff away, back into the fridge. "Yeah, but... that takes time and I'm not sure I really have it in me right now. I'm kind of tapped out between the book and the blog and work."

"All right," he replied lightly. "So go with my first suggestion."

She sighed and whispered, "Giving the kids to Steve for the night so you can come home and find me naked and tied to the bed is _not_ a present!"

"How is it _not_ a present?" he countered, grin evident in his voice.

She sighed impatiently. "Because I was already planning on having someone take the kids and going out somewhere nice with you for your birthday, but I need to figure out a legitimate gift for you, too!"

"Look, I'm fine, really," he tried to assure her. "I've got everything I need already."

"I don't care! I'm your wife, I have to get you _something_."

"And whatever it is, I'm sure I'll love it," he replied sincerely. "So don't worry about it. It's a month and a half away, anyway."

"Exactly, which means I've got like _no_ time," she exaggerated. "But fine. I'll worry about it later. When do you get off tonight?"

"I don't know, when _am_ I?" he replied suggestively.

She rolled her eyes. This was what happened when they slept together only roughly three times in seven months. Every other word out of his mouth became one innuendo or another. "Ha ha. Seriously, when?"

"Six," he replied. "Steve invited us to the tower later for dinner, if you want to do that."

"Yeah, that's fine," Summer said, taking the sandwich to David. "We'll just meet you there, then."

"Sounds good," he said. "I'll let you get back to brainstorming now."

She frowned, setting the plate down in front of David and muttering, "I am so screwed."

"Hopefully."

She rolled her eyes again. "Bye."

"Love you."

"Love you too," she smiled before hanging up. Now in the living room, she looked around to find both Paul and Natasha playing Minecraft with David - because that was totally normal now, her doctor brother and ex-assassin best friend building what appeared to be an epic medieval-style castle with her son - and then she saw Clint and Adelaide. He was sitting on the floor with her, showing off an action figure of himself and trying to get her to crawl to it. She did, having mastered crawling a month prior, and then she snatched it out of his hand and started chewing on the action figure's head.

Clint nodded approvingly as she slobbered all over the toy. "I take that as a shining endorsement."

"Are there any pieces of that toy that could come off and choke her?" Summer asked cautiously.

Clint merely eyed her and said, "Yes, I gave her a toy with removable pieces because I'm a complete moron."

Summer smiled and shrugged. "Hey, you know, I have to make sure."

He shrugged back. "I don't blame you."

She then headed to the couch and plopped down next to Natasha. Clint then looked to make sure the coast was clear, quickly took the toy out of Adelaide's hand, removed the bow and arrow that _was_ removable and a choke hazard, and then quickly handed the figure back with a smile.

"We never speak of this, got it?"

Adelaide went back to chewing on his action figure's head with a gummy smile. He smiled and patted her on the head.

Meanwhile, Summer sighed and said to Natasha, "I am so screwed for this birthday thing. It's less than two months away and I have no ideas. Nothing."

"It can't be that hard," Natasha said, eyes on the TV as she killed a spider with an iron sword. "Why do I feel like I just betrayed my people?"

"I just... I can't think of a single thing he needs," Summer shrugged.

"A haircut?" Paul suggested.

"Shut up," Summer quickly snapped. "His hair is beautiful." After Paul muttered something about hippies, Summer went on, "Maybe I really should just tie myself naked to the bed and call that my present."

Paul pretended to throw up in his mouth, and David remained reaction-free thanks to having tuned them all out beforehand. Natasha shrugged, "Can't go wrong there."

Summer half-glared at her and said, "You're paying more attention to Minecraft than to me and I need you! I need your brain!"

Nat turned and looked at her in slight surprise. "Calm down. I'd help if I could, but I can't think of much either."

Summer groaned and made a face, turning to glare at the TV. "Maybe I'll just go and buy a giant red ribbon and tie it in a big bow on my butt and send him a picture of that when he's at work and be like _here's your present, an idiot wearing a big bow! Come unwrap me_!"

Natasha chuckled at that, paying attention to the game again as Summer fell deeper into despair. She then added in a mutter, "Not that I'd ever have the guts to send him a naked picture anyway."

Natasha was on the verge of agreeing when she suddenly stopped everything that she was doing. She slowly set the controller down and looked at Summer with _that_ look in her eye.

Summer blinked. "What?"

Natasha smirked. It was one of her dangerous smirks. Summer _knew_ that smirk.

"Nat, you're freaking me out..."

"You've worked really hard to get your body back," Natasha observed. "You look better than ever."

"Okay..."

"One of your closest friends is a photographer. A very good photographer who also happens to be _very_ gay."

Summer blinked again. "I'm not following." Then it suddenly dawned on her, and her eyes widened. "Oh God! _No_!"

"Before you say no and chicken out, listen to me. What I'm suggesting would be very tasteful and pretty."

"But you're suggesting Nicolo taking naked pictures of me!" Summer whisper-squeaked.

Paul shook his head. "You both hate me. Why am I being subjected to this conversation?"

Ignoring him, Natasha replied, "Yes, but _tasteful_ naked pictures. Pictures that only Bucky would see."

Summer gulped, face on fire. "You know, the whole wedding night dancing thing was one thing, but..."

"You could do this, too," Natasha assured her. "I could be there to help make sure you're comfortable. Nicolo and Esteban would be the last people on earth to make you feel uncomfortable. You know they wouldn't be ogling you. Even Bucky wouldn't have a problem with them seeing you naked."

"I don't know if Nic would even _want_ to do this," Summer said, grasping for any excuses she possibly could reach.

"I'd bet you anything that he would," Nat replied. "And look at it this way. You worked _very_ hard to get back into shape. I know better than anyone because I helped you every step of the way. You should be proud of yourself."

"I am," Summer nodded.

Natasha nodded back. "So think of the photo shoot as a celebration. You've earned it. And I don't need to tell you how much your husband would love it."

Summer's eyes widened a little. Bucky would die if she ever handed him a book of nude photos of herself. He would simply stop breathing and cease to exist, possibly imploding and destroying the entire structure of the universe on his way out.

"Imagine a really classy boudoir shoot," Natasha said. "You start out in a great dress with great hair, great makeup. You're in a room somewhere, maybe an old fashioned hotel in town with antique furniture, a vintage stand mirror, big bed with silky sheets..."

Paul mimed wrapping a rope around his neck and hanging himself from it.

"And then after awhile, you lose the dress. You're in a full, sexy lingerie set, and piece by piece, you take it off and..."

Summer gulped. "Yeah, I got the... uh... I got the idea."

Natasha then smirked again and sat back. "Just an idea. It would be one hell of a present." She then paused and added, "You could order a book of the photos to give him, and he could take it with him when he has to travel for missions and then..."

"Little ears!" Paul exclaimed, pointing to David, who was oblivious to it all. Then he pointed to his own head. "_My_ ears!"

Natasha shrugged. "You know where I was going with that."

Summer nodded a little too quickly, slightly resembling a bobble head. "Yeah. I do. But I can't."

Natasha gave her a look. "How many times have you told me that?"

"A lot," Summer admitted.

"You always say you can't. But you _can_. And you know it."

Dammit. She was right. Summer bit her lip, knowing deep down inside already that she was going to end up doing it after all. It was too good of an idea to ignore just because her inner shyness was trying to make a comeback. Bucky would absolutely _adore_ a gift like that, and, well... maybe Natasha was right and Summer's hard work in getting her body back was worth a bit of celebrating.

And so, after a bit more quiet mental anguish, Summer finally relented and said, "Okay fine. But you're going to be there the entire time."

Natasha nodded, a little smile on her lips. "Of course."

"And I'm going to need to be a little drunk when it happens."

"Not a problem," Natasha nodded again. "I'll bring all the wine you need."

"And to save me the awkwardness of trying to put all of this into words, I need you to ask Nicolo for his help, because if I try I might chicken out."

Natasha smiled. "Of course. Leave it all to me."

Summer nodded, then leaned back against the couch cushion behind her and groaned, "What the hell have I gotten myself into?"

Natasha chuckled and patted her shoulder. "Just imagine his face when he sees it."

"He's going to die," Summer replied.

"_I'm_ going to die," Paul said, "but nobody cares about me. Nope. Just keep talking."

And they did. Natasha called Nicolo and made plans for the shoot to happen following week, giving her time to take Summer shopping for a dress and lingerie, and to find a location for the shoot. Summer laughed and turned bright red when she heard Nicolo's excited screech of "_YES oh my God!_" over Nat's phone when she asked him first if he would be willing to do the shoot.

Suddenly, Summer knew exactly what she was getting for Bucky on his next birthday. The thing was, she didn't think he'd believe her even if she told him.

* * *

Summer giggled and blushed her way through the rest of the day, thanks to Natasha searching the Internet for examples of boudoir shoots, dresses, and sexy lingerie sets to show Summer as examples of what they would need to shop for over the next week. Summer couldn't believe what she had gotten herself into, and later on that night when she and the others headed to the tower for dinner, Natasha was _still_ showing her things and killing her.

"I'm thinking corset, for sure... so no backless dress," Natasha said as they stepped off the private elevator on the floor that Summer used to call home. Then, as Summer adjusted her hold on Adelaide, who was squirming in her arms wanting to get down, she showed Summer her phone and said, "What do you think of this pose?"

Summer glanced at the photo and then widened her eyes before shielding David's with her hand, just in case. "Oh my God, Nat, she's -"

"Naked," Natasha smirked, "I know. Which is what you'll be."

Summer groaned and removed her hand from David's eyes. "You know, sometimes I really hate..."

She suddenly came to a stop and stared in disbelief at what - or rather who - she saw standing near the kitchen, talking to Tony, Bucky and Steve. "... _Thor_!"

This was the very last thing she'd been expecting, but it was a very happy surprise for both her and David. David ran to him first as Thor turned and saw them, flashing his familiar bright smile and bellowing, "Ah, there you are! I was starting to think I would not see the rest of you tonight."

"Oh my God!" Summer half gasped as David flung himself at Thor in a big hug. "I didn't even know you were here!"

"I was trying to surprise you," Bucky grinned, taking a drink of what looked like whiskey as he leaned against the counter.

After Thor hugged David back and mussed his hair, he turned to Summer and then focused on the little tiny girl in her arms. Adelaide was dressed in a frilly but awesome black and hot pink dress with a matching - and enormous - bow on top of her already chin length dark brown hair, and she eyed Thor _very_ seriously as they got closer to him. "Is _this_ the little one I've been listening to her father boast so much about?"

"Yup," Summer said proudly, grinning at the baby. "She's seven and a half months old now. Already crawling, probably gonna start running soon."

Thor bent down a little to place himself at Adelaide's level, and he grinned as he said, "Hello there, Adelaide! I've been waiting for the day that I would finally get to meet you."

He gently touched her shoulder, and Adelaide quickly hid her face and clung to Summer tightly. Summer chuckled and explained, "She _just_ hit the stranger anxiety phase. But she usually gets over it if you keep talking to her."

"Ah, I see," Thor nodded. He tickled her shoulder again and told Summer, "I received your message following her birth. I was very glad to hear that all went well."

Summer smiled brightly. "You got that?"

"Of course! I always receive the messages you yell to the sky. I only wish at times that I could yell back, but sadly it only works one way."

"That's okay," she assured him as Adelaide lifted her head enough to sneak another peek at Thor. "I'm so glad you're here! We've really missed you."

"I have missed all of you as well," Thor said, nodding down to David who was still stuck to him and probably would be for the rest of the night. Then he looked at Adelaide, who was staring at him very intently all of a sudden.

"She's looking at your hair," Summer smiled, following Adelaide's gaze straight to Thor's glorious blonde locks.

"It is very interesting, isn't it?" Thor teased, moving in a little closer so Adelaide could see better. She then reached out and grabbed one of the small braids in his hair and pulled it.

"Oh yeah, sorry about that," Summer said, trying to uncurl Adelaide's little fist and release the braid. "She likes to yank on hair. Just ask Bucky."

"I'm lucky I've got any left," Bucky remarked.

"It is fine," Thor shrugged with a smile when Adelaide utterly refused to let go. The baby then looked up at him and smiled back, and he grinned even wider. "Oh, am I winning you over now?"

"One way to find out," Summer smiled before handing Adelaide over to Thor. Adelaide didn't fight her or try to hang on for dear life, being entirely too fascinated by Thor's hair to be perturbed at all as the Asgardian prince held her and grinned happily.

"Oh man," Summer smiled as she quickly grabbed her phone out of her pocket to take pictures. "She looks so tiny with you!"

Adelaide yanked on his hair and giggled, then did it again and again until she was utterly rolling with laughter. As Summer snapped photo after photo, Bucky came up next to her and grinned as his daughter placed Thor under the same spell that everyone else had been put under months earlier. Tony chuckled as well and then wandered over to Thor, noting, "And yet she still isn't sure about me."

Proving his words, Adelaide immediately stopped laughing and stared at Tony with sudden suspicion and gravity. Tony made a funny face at her, and her expression didn't budge. He then sighed and said, "She's looked at me like that since day one."

"It's the facial hair," Bucky shrugged.

"Oh please, how could it be _that_?" Tony scoffed.

"Maybe she was born with the ability to sense overgrown egos?" Natasha wondered aloud. Tony stuck his tongue out at her.

"Well," Steve said, moving to Thor's other side and patting the little girl on her back, "at least she's got good taste."

Adelaide then turned her head and, upon seeing Steve, smiled _hugely_ and all but dove out of Thor's arms in an attempt to clobber Steve. He laughed and grabbed her, and Summer smiled warmly as Adelaide went about her usual routine when being held by Steve - grab the beard that he was still sporting these days and treat it like one of the most interesting artifacts she'd ever encountered, then squeal happily and proceed to try her best to eat his face.

Tony shook his head. "Little jerk."

Bucky glared at him. "Hey."

"Well, she _is_," Tony shrugged. "But it's okay. One day she'll realize Iron Man is the coolest Avenger and my work will be done."

Summer scoffed. "Her Daddy's an Avenger. He'll automatically be the coolest in her mind."

"I mean of us _original _Avengers," Tony rolled his eyes. "Besides, I can _fly_."

"Your suit flies," Thor pointed out. "_You_ do not. I, however, _can_ actually fly."

"Can you fly without your hammer?" Tony retorted. When Thor hesitated, Tony grinned and said, "Didn't think so. See? We're even."

Natasha rolled her eyes. "Let's face it, the coolest one of us, original or not, is standing right _there_."

She gestured towards Steve, who was still holding Adelaide and now had Wanda standing next to him. She'd come off the elevator with Clint a moment earlier, and now she'd been pulled into Adelaide's irresistible orbit and was smiling happily as Adelaide reached out for her.

David nodded at Natasha, enthusiastically agreeing. Summer shrugged and said, "Well, yeah. I think I'd have to agree. Tough to get much cooler than _that_."

Bucky looked at Summer and said in mock sadness, "I'm hurt."

She shrugged again. "Sorry, honey. You're no Scarlet Witch."

Now in Wanda's arms, Adelaide started grabbing for one of the necklaces that she was wearing, her expression suddenly serious as she did this. Meanwhile, Steve smiled and patted Thor on the shoulder. "Well, it's good to have you back. Staying longer than a day this time?"

"Yes!" Thor smiled. "I can spare a few weeks this time around."

"Yay!" Summer grinned. "Hey, if you stay long enough, you'll be here for Bucky's birthday!"

"Ah!" Thor glanced at Bucky, smiling and teasingly asking, "What does this year make?"

"Technically 101," Bucky replied dryly.

"But in lived years, probably more like... 35-ish," Summer added.

Thor nodded understandingly, and Tony coughed a rather audible _geezer_ into his arm before smiling. Bucky replied by flipping him off with an equally false smile, and Summer couldn't even scold him for using rude gestures in front of their children because, well, a few years ago she never would have believed he'd ever be on such comfortable terms with Tony Stark. They weren't the best of friends, but to be anywhere near genuinely friendly for them was quite a feat. She respected Tony for many reasons, not the least of which was his ability to move beyond what most would not even dream of letting go of.

The evening continued on pleasantly, with dinner ending up being just a massive - literally - amount of pizza, and the tower was loud and full of laughter. It made Summer miss the days that they'd lived there, getting to sit back on a couch with Bucky's right arm slung around her shoulder, a drink in his other hand as he talked to Steve and the others over the commotion. He teased Steve, laughed at Clint, muttered things in Russian to Natasha who would then shoot something back that made him roll his eyes and laugh, all while David soaked it all up and Adelaide zoomed all around the floor like a baby on a mission.

One time, Adelaide got hold of a penny that had been lying somewhere on the floor, and Summer had been just about to spring into action when the penny suddenly left Adelaide's hand and floated up in the air, just in time to stop her from shoving it in her mouth.

Summer looked up to find Wanda, sitting on a different couch, holding her hand out and keeping the penny suspended in midair. "Oh man, thank you!"

"No problem," Wanda replied, smiling at Adelaide as she stared open-mouthed at the penny. She wasn't far away, just on the other end of the coffee table that Wanda was sitting behind, and when she tried to grab the penny again, it moved up and just out of her reach. Her mouth dropped open even more, and Wanda moved down to the floor as Adelaide started to chase the penny excitedly. David wandered over as well, reaching them just as Wanda sat on the floor and decided to _really_ wow Adelaide.

Summer had brought along a good amount of Adelaide's toys, and they were scattered all over the floor now. With just a wave of her hand, the toys all glowed a faint but deep red and then floated between Wanda and Adelaide, gathering there and making the little girl stare in utter awe and reach out to touch one. When she poked it and it remained floating, she looked at Wanda and then let out a whoop of a delighted laugh. David giggled too, looking at Wanda and, as Summer could easily recognize by now, striking up a silent conversation with her. She was the only one in the world that he could "talk" to like that, silently from mind to mind, and Summer was unabashedly just a bit jealous of that. But who wouldn't be?

It was a home away from home, but in some strange way, Summer knew deep down that their house that they were renting didn't feel like their true home. They all liked it there and she didn't regret the move at all, but it just... wasn't home. Neither was the tower, but it was a bit closer.

But that was okay. They'd find their real home eventually.

After the night wound down and the kids started to get tired and Summer did too, she was up and saying her goodbyes to the others while Bucky kept an eye on the kids for her. They were still on the floor, Adelaide sitting up and chewing on her pacifier as David sat in front of her, playing toys with her. They were sitting near a far corner of the room, and Bucky was on the opposite side, closer to the kitchen, chatting with Steve while occasionally turning his head to check and make sure Adelaide wasn't trying to eat more change. He was _just_ distracted enough to almost miss an extraordinary moment take place right under his nose.

* * *

David, for all of his almost nine years on the planet, had been surrounded by noise. There was good noise and there was bad noise, some that was comforting and some that made his skin feel weird in a way he would have had a hard time conveying to another person. Noise wasn't inherently good _or_ bad. Neither was talking. He just didn't like doing it.

He used to go to speech therapy, starting from when he was two. He remembered three different speech therapists, all of them perfectly nice and each yielding the exact same results as the last. He _could_ communicate. He found his own ways of doing it that didn't involve talking, and eventually, Summer stopped taking him to speech therapy and told him that if he wanted to talk someday, then that was fine. And if he didn't, that was fine too.

He liked signing, nodding, speaking in ways that didn't involve a voice. It was less noise. It helped keep him at ease. All in all, it made him feel more... balanced. And everyone around him accepted that, even if they didn't entirely understand it, because they loved him.

And now there was his little sister, in the very earliest stages of learning how to talk. She wasn't _really_ talking yet, of course. She was just babbling, mostly saying "Ba ba!" over and over, and now everyone was trying to brainwash her into saying their names when she eventually spoke her first word. David thought it was funny, especially since it was obvious that all of their names were just going over her head.

But, he thought as he sat on the floor of the living room of his old home playing with her, she was extremely cute with her constant babbling. She sounded so girly, so little and precious, and he couldn't help but laugh when he pushed a button on one of her toys that made a song play and she responded by spitting out her pacifier and exclaiming, "_Ba ba ba ba!_"

David glanced Bucky's way and found him grinning at them, and he smiled back before turning back to Adelaide and continuing to play with her. That was when an idea popped into his head.

He looked over again, then one more time, as many times as it took to make sure that nobody was watching or listening. It was very important to him that nobody was listening, and since everyone was off and having their little grown-up talks at the moment, he was pretty sure that he was safe.

And so, he scooted a little closer to his sister and took one of her tiny hands in his own. She held on to his pointer finger, and then for the first time in a _very_ long time... he spoke.

At first, his voice felt strange, surely from lack of use. He didn't really like the way that it felt in his throat, the vibration of his voice, but he didn't let it stop him from telling his little sister his name for the first time, from his own mouth.

"David."

She looked at him curiously, looking down at his mouth and then back up at his eyes, as if she knew how odd speaking was coming from him. Then again, she was nearly eight months old. She'd had some time to get to know him, and she knew that he didn't speak.

But now he was. After quickly looking over his shoulder again, he turned back to her and said it again, this time a little less shakily and more firmly. "David."

She grinned at him and then started happily shaking his entire hand back and forth. "Ba!"

He smiled, deciding that if she was going to say anyone's name for a first word, it was going to be his and that was that. He said his name again, and again, hoping that somewhere in her little mind, she'd register it and know it the way she probably already knew _mama_ and _daddy_.

Meanwhile, Steve had taken his leave and Summer had walked up to Bucky, coat in hand, asking him if he was ready to leave. He had been about to answer when a soft sound from the living room made her pause and look in the direction of the kids, and that was when she covered her mouth to stifle a gasp and grabbed Bucky's hand to tug him around the corner with her to hide.

"Bucky!" she whispered urgently, smiling like a moron, "Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" he asked, also whispering and clearly confused.

"David! That was David!"

"What was David?"

She sighed and urged him to poke his head around the corner with her and look. "Just listen!"

And so he did. They both listened, making sure that David didn't know they were there and thus felt secure enough to keep going. Summer's heart melted as David taught Adelaide his name in hushed tones, both because she was finally getting to hear his voice after years of waiting, and because he was sharing this very special moment with his baby sister.

She and Bucky both smiled at each other as they watched, both of them knowing how remarkable it was and not taking it lightly. Summer didn't know if it meant that maybe David might consider talking more in the future, perhaps here and there, or maybe only with Adelaide. Then again, maybe this was a one time occurrence and he'd return to his usual silence once the moment was over. Either way, she would support him wholeheartedly.

But _oh_, she thought, how he must love his baby sister to give her what were, essentially, a few of his very own first words in order to encourage her own. She would have recorded it on her phone had she not suspected that such an action would have greatly offended David when he eventually saw the video someday.

"He really loves her," Bucky said quietly, echoing her thoughts.

Summer's eyes met his and she smiled, nodding softly and turning back to David. "Yeah. He really does."

It was one of those moments that she knew she'd never forget, and she was eternally grateful that she was lucky enough to stumble upon it.

* * *

After the following week, which was a week filled with anxiety and enough shopping to make Summer hate it, it was _time_. The appointed day had come, and there was no stopping it or getting out of it once it arrived.

Summer had picked one of Bucky's days off to book the hotel, and she was vague and transparently jittery when she left the kids at home with him and dashed off. He'd asked where she was going, and she had just blushed and stammered about _oh you know, just gonna go do... girl things... with Natasha_, and he had clearly known that she was up to _something_ but he didn't press her on it. He just grinned and gave her a kiss goodbye before being left standing in the front doorway of their home with Adelaide in his arms, yanking pieces of his hair out of its bun as Summer hopped in the car and zoomed off.

She picked up Natasha at the tower, humming with nervous energy all the while, and the first words out of her mouth when Natasha opened the passenger door was, "Do you have the alcohol?!"

"Relax," Natasha rolled her eyes, tossing her bag inside and eyeing the backseat. "You have the dress and the lingerie?"

"Yeah, and the makeup and all the hair supplies," Summer nodded. "So, alcohol?"

Natasha just gave her a look and then walked around to the back of the car, opening the hatch and putting an entire small crate of wine in there. One could never be _too_ prepared, and besides, Natasha's own stash was running low, anyway.

Once Nat was in the car and they were heading across town to the hotel in question, Summer tapped the steering wheel anxiously as she drove and Natasha ran down the checklist, just to double check that they were ready.

Once she got through the supplies they needed that day, Natasha asked, "And you went to the salon yesterday, right?"

Summer nodded, slightly cringing. "Got waxed within an inch of my life on my lunch break."

Natasha nodded, mentally checking one more thing off the list. Then she asked, "You got the one I told you to ask for, right?"

"Yes," Summer sighed, fidgeting a little. She'd never had to do _that_ before, not even for her wedding, and she never planned on doing it again because _ouch_.

"Good. Has he noticed yet?"

Summer scoffed and shook her head. "Nope. Honestly, I'm not sure if he's seen me naked in the last... month?"

Natasha gave her a look and grimaced. "Ouch. You know, if you guys ever need a night to yourselves, all you have to do is ask."

"I know," Summer nodded gratefully. "We're both just so tired all the time now. Seriously, if we could just keep our eyes open past eleven, we could do things. But... yeah. We're like an old couple who can't stay up past the evening news to catch Leno."

"Jimmy Fallon," Natasha corrected Summer.

"Really? When did he take over?"

Natasha gave Summer a long, concerned look and then said, "Boy, you really do work too much." After a pause, she added, "And I can't believe that you've never gotten waxed before."

Summer shrugged. "Well, I mean, I was single forever, and... Bucky's... y'know. He's... old school and doesn't really care, so... or at least I don't think he does. He's never said anything. Seems pretty happy with... um... _it_."

After Natasha chuckled at her wording, she said, "Yeah, Steve's the same way. But he's come to appreciate modern grooming. Actually, the one that I told you to get is his favorite. Not too much, not too little. You know what they say. You eat with your eyes first."

Summer stopped at a red light and looked at Natasha with slightly wide eyes before bursting into giggles. "Oh my God, Natasha!"

Natasha smirked and said, "It's never _not_ fun making you uncomfortable. I've been pretty conservative with what I've told you, too. I could make it so much worse."

"Well, please don't, especially not today when I'm already freaking out about to puke from being so nervous."

"Fine," Natasha relented with a grin. "Hotel's right up there."

Swallowing down a sudden lump of fear, Summer fell quiet and located said hotel as her fingers tightened on the steering wheel again. She wondered as she began to search for parking just how painfully Natasha would kick her butt if she decided to hit the gas and speed away as far as possible.

Best to not find out, she decided as she found a parking spot and turned off the car. Once the engine was off, she looked at Natasha warily out of the corner of her eye.

"Come on," Nat said, unbuckling her seat belt and opening her door. "The guys are already in the room. Let's get you all dressed up and drunk enough to do this."

"Sounds like a plan," Summer sighed before hopping out of the car herself. This was going to be a rather interesting night.

When Summer and Natasha had decided upon a vintage feel to the photo shoot - which was only natural considering who it was for - Esteban had found the cute little hotel that they were all now gathered at. It had been open since the 1920s and had maintained its old-time charm as part of its modern appeal. A few old movies had even been filmed there, and the room that had been booked for Summer was perfect for a vintage, classy boudoir shoot.

If she could do it without laughing and acting like a complete idiot the whole time, of course.

When they checked in and made their way up a winding, pretty staircase to the very top floor of the hotel, they found the correct door number and found it unlocked. Natasha walked inside first, Summer right behind her as they entered and were greeted with an enthusiastic, "Well, it's about time!"

"What? We're right on time," Natasha replied with a smirk to Esteban, who was fiddling with the curtains on one of the windows while Nicolo snapped test pictures.

"Barely," Esteban teased. Then he grinned at Summer and said, "There's the woman of the hour!"

Summer cringed and hung her dress up on the door, then set down her bag of other supplies. "Oh God, don't start or I will seriously throw up." Then she looked around the room and said, "Holy crap, this place is even prettier than in the pictures online."

"I know!" Nicolo agreed excitedly, rushing over to her and showing her his camera. "I've been testing out the lighting and stuff, and look at these shots. This room is perfect. I've already had a few new ideas for some poses I want to try."

Summer nodded, swallowing nervously and then smiling at Nicolo. "That's awesome. Really, it is, and I can't thank you both enough for doing this and helping me, but -"

"But you need to get drunk before you get so nervous that you pass out," Esteban guessed.

Summer pointed at him. "Yes! Exactly."

He smiled. "I know you pretty well by now, sweetie."

"Yes, well... can you go ahead and get me the world's biggest glass of wine while I try to get dressed?"

"On it," Esteban said, and then Natasha was walking with Summer to the bathroom. And thus began the preparations.

The hair and makeup was tedious and took an hour all on its own. Getting the clothes on, however, was probably the easiest part of the experience. First there was the lingerie, which she had bought from a very high-end shop she normally never would have bothered with due to eternal frugality, but, well... if there had ever been a time where it was completely necessary to spend half a paycheck on lingerie, this was it.

It was a more complicated setup than her wedding had required. Unlike then, she had a corset to squeeze into this time around, and she held her breath as Natasha fastened it _very_ tightly around her. It was worth the pain though, being a gorgeous black piece with lacy and partially sheer sections, and by the time Natasha was done, Summer wasn't sure if it was the oxygen deprivation or if her boobs actually looked _that_ good in the thing.

Aside from the corset, there was then the matching garter and hose to deal with. Those were much less foreign of a concept, and the discomfort of the corset distracted from Summer's general lack of fondness for having to wear a thong. But she wasn't there to feel good in the comfort sense. She was there to look better than she ever had before in her life and document it forever, and nothing else mattered. Including breathing.

Then there was the _dress_. Finding the right dress had been the most difficult part of shopping, but Natasha had struck gold for her with her pick. It was long and gloriously, richly red, strapless and sweetheart-necklined, and it fit Summer's body from top to bottom perfectly. With the corset on underneath, Summer's eyes nearly popped out of her own head for how good she looked in it.

She was also already tipsy by the time that she was finally ready.

When she and Natasha finally emerged from their preparations, Esteban and Nicolo had been bickering about where to go to dinner later when they looked up and both dropped their jaws in sheer delight.

Her hair was down and rolled in soft, old fashioned curls. Her makeup matched the vintage theme and was perfect, winged eyes and red lips to match the deep color of her dress. And not only was the dress itself a thing to behold, but so were the unbelievably high heels underneath that made her look like a giant next to the petite Natasha.

"Oh my God," Esteban said slowly, staring at her in awe. "_Summer_. Oh my _God_."

She giggled at them, gesturing vaguely with one hand and announcing, "I'm drunk!"

"She's not drunk," Natasha rolled her eyes. "Not yet, anyway."

"But I feel good," she said, "So let's do this while I feel good and before I lose my nerve and start crying!"

"Yes," Nicolo nodded, snapping into business mode and grabbing his camera from where it had been sitting on a table. "Let's go. I am so excited. Look - my hands are shaking a little."

He wasn't lying. Summer just giggled again and said, "My entire body's shaking!"

Natasha glanced at Esteban and said, "I think we have our work cut out for us."

"Yes," he agreed, "but in the end, the result will be glorious."

"Glorious," Nat repeated, considering the word. "Yeah, I can work with that."

Esteban then nabbed a wine bottle for himself, because he wasn't driving and he'd never turn down a chance to drink Tony Stark's personal stock. Then the photo shoot officially began.

It started out rather easily and without any undue stress. Summer could handle posing in various positions and places around the room fully dressed, taking direction from all three of her companions and enjoying her slight buzz as she did so. She felt good and she knew that she looked great, quite proud of being able to wear a corset and body-hugging gown only seven and a half months after giving birth and looking _awesome_ while doing it.

She posed in front of the windows, on one of the old, pretty chairs in the room, and in a doorway with her back to the camera and her hands on either side of the walls. Natasha tossed her a faux fur wrap for a few of the photos, including a few of the more close-up ones showcasing her face and flawless hair, and if Esteban raved any more about how she looked a glamorous old movie star, he might have eventually just passed out under the weight of his own enthusiasm.

That was, of course, the easy part. Though it didn't exactly come naturally, Summer could pose all day for classic, glamorous, _fully clothed _photos. It was the next part where things started to get a bit dicey.

"Okay, so... what do you think," Natasha asked Nicolo while Summer took a break to down a bit more wine. "Unzip the back of the dress and take a few like that, with her holding it up and eventually taking it off?"

Summer choked on her drink as Nicolo nodded. "Oh no. It's _that_ time, isn't it?"

Natasha smiled and nodded. "Remember, none of us are going to laugh at you or tease you or do anything to make you feel uncomfortable."

"I have done these shoots before," Nicolo nodded. "It's no different from what we've already been doing. Truly, to me it's all the same."

"And if there's anyone you can feel comfortable with being naked in front of, it's us three," Esteban added.

"Yeah, I mean, they're as gay as it gets, and you spent months giving me half naked lap dances," Natasha shrugged. Both men nodded in agreement.

Summer sighed and then threw back the rest of her third glass of wine. "Okay. Let's just... let's..."

"Get you naked?" Natasha finished for her.

"Oh God," Summer muttered, slouching her shoulders slightly as Natasha walked over to her. Esteban followed, helpfully refilling Summer's glass as Natasha walked behind Summer and started pulling down the zipper.

"Stand up straight," Natasha told her. "I'm gonna help you through this."

"How?" Summer asked with disbelief.

"I've got a few ideas," Natasha replied vaguely.

After that - and another sip of wine - the photo shoot started kicking into gear. It didn't take long for the dress to come off, and once it was and Summer got to enjoy the last few photos she got to spend clothed, Natasha came and took the dress away and Summer was left in just her lingerie and heels. Nicolo directed her then to go and sit down in one of the chairs by the windows, and after Summer did, Esteban asked, "How are you doing?"

"Well, my boobs feel like they're gonna pop out any minute and this thong is really on my nerves, but I'm pretty sure that I'm actually drunk now," she shrugged, leaning an arm on the back of the chair.

"Okay, no more wine," Natasha decreed, coming back from hanging the dress up. "We want you relaxed, not unconscious."

Summer gave the thumbs up. "Well, I'm about as relaxed as I'm gonna get, so..."

"Okay. So, how do you want her?" Natasha asked Nicolo.

"Hmm... let's do a few looking out the window, then looking at the camera. Don't be wistful about it."

"No wistfulness, check," Summer said, taking a deep breath and looking out the window. Natasha helped position her, moving her arms and tipping her chin up, then having her cross one leg over the other.

"Actually, imagine that you're waiting here for your husband, all dressed up and waiting to surprise him," Nicolo suggested, and Summer glanced at him and started instantly blushing.

"Oh, uh... okay..."

Natasha then stepped away and added, "Let's try something. Close your eyes."

Summer looked at her strangely and began, "But -"

"Close your eyes," Natasha repeated, and this time Summer did as she said. "And just imagine. You're sitting here waiting for him. He's on his way home from work now, and the kids are with someone else. You're all dressed up and he has no idea what you've got waiting for him. It's been awhile since you had a night to yourselves, so... this is special and you're very impatiently waiting for him to walk through the door."

Dutifully keeping her eyes closed, Summer's fuzzy mind followed Nat's words and imagined such a situation. If only it were true. She _was_ quite deprived and alcohol had a way of making her rather... warm and _excited_.

"... Now open your eyes."

She did, her gaze still fixed on the world outside of the window, and Nicolo snapped away. He gave the thumbs up to Nat, who grinned at the success of her tactic and then decided to push it a little further.

"Now close your eyes again."

She did, a little bit of her anxiety fluttering away as she listened to Natasha's voice. "Finally his car pulls in the driveway. You hear him walk inside, close the door, call your name, but you don't answer. You've been waiting and thinking about what you want to do to him for so long that you're more than ready, and when he walks through the door he finds you just like this. Your eyes meet and you can see how surprised he is. And how much he wants you."

Normally, Summer would have giggled and begged Nat to stop, but she did nothing of the sort. Instead, she imagined vividly everything Nat was saying, imagined Bucky standing where Nicolo was, walking in and letting his mouth fall open just a little and taking his eyes up and down her body from head to toe...

"Now open your eyes."

She did, this time looking directly at the camera, and it was _perfect_.

After Nicolo had gotten enough shots of that pose, she stood up to move to a different part of the room for a few others, and Natasha told her, "Just keep in mind that all of these pictures _are_ for his eyes. He's not here now but you want to look at the camera exactly how you would look at him if he _was_."

"Yeah," Summer smiled. "And hey, if you want to keep telling me... stuff... that seemed to work really well, so..."

"I can do that," Natasha smiled, and Summer grinned back in deep gratitude. She might make it through this after all.

She posed still in her full lingerie for the next round of shots. In some she was standing, others sitting, and she ended up in the bed for a few of them. Natasha and the men were invaluable in their help directing her, telling her when to arch her back or hold her head up higher and how to position her legs or her arms. She got comfortable enough to not need so much of Nat's encouragement after a bit, but of course, that was when it was time to get more naked and make her nervous again.

This time, it was time to say goodbye to the corset. Summer sat on the edge of the bed as Natasha got behind her and started undoing the laces. When Esteban saw the anxiety start to creep back up on her face, he walked by and patted her shoulder as he said, "Don't worry. Thanks to your breastfeeding, we've all seen the girls at least once or twice a week for the last seven months."

"He has a point," Natasha nodded. "Even Steve doesn't flinch anymore when you pop one out."

"You know... yeah, you're right," Summer had to admit. The boobs might have been the least uncomfortable thing to expose at that point.

Still, however, once the corset was undone and she could breathe again, she still automatically covered them with her arms the minute the corset was gone. But then she remembered what they'd said and, with a great inner resolve, let her arms drop. Then she took a deep breath and said, "Okay, what next?"

Surprisingly, rolling around in a bed taking topless and mostly naked photos wasn't so bad. She followed directions well and found the physical posing to be fairly easy, but it was the facial expressions that she had the hardest time with. She was the type to make the stupidest faces possible as soon as a camera was nearby, but now she was being asked to pose like she was a model - all serious-faced with lips slightly parted, and with "bedroom eyes". But she wasn't sure _how_ to make bedroom eyes on purpose.

That was when Natasha would help, and she seemed to always know just what to say to get the right look from Summer. It was working, and judging by the glee that Nicolo was poorly hiding, it was working _very_ well.

And then, piece by piece, the rest of Summer's lingerie came off until she was left in just the high heels and rather tiny thong that barely covered anything. She wasn't sure that it was any better than being fully naked, really, so if there was a moment where she was going to freak out and chicken out, it would have been then.

But that was when Natasha tossing her something black, shiny, and familiar distracted her from any potentially impending meltdowns. Sitting up on the bed, she touched the thing and began, "Is this -"

"Yup," Natasha smiled. "Found it in your car. I thought it might make for a few good shots."

Summer grinned down at Bucky's leather jacket, then glanced up at Nat and said, "So... you want me to put this on and like, roll around in just this and a thong?"

"And the heels," Natasha nodded, grinning back at her. "I have a feeling he'll like it."

Summer felt herself blush a little as her grin grew a bit wider. Bucky wouldn't like it. He'd _love_ it. He might also have a stroke over it, and every other picture she had taken and was still going to take, but that was another issue entirely.

She put on the jacket and smiled to herself, the leather smelling just like him and making her drunken brain buzz pleasantly. She thought about him, her mind recalling times that she'd impatiently tore the very same jacket from his shoulders and let it fall to the floor in her haste to get him undressed, and it turned out that she apparently photographed pretty well when she was thinking about their previous nights - and some afternoons - together.

After Nicolo had gotten enough shots of her in the jacket, Natasha helped her get it off and then brought something to her attention that she'd started suspecting only moments earlier.

"Okay, so... you've got a few choices," Natasha said, sitting next to her. "We've gotten a lot of _really_ good shots, so we could stop here and still have plenty to fill up a book with. Or... we can keep going like we planned."

Summer sighed, looking around with her slightly heavy eyes and shrugging as she decided, "I'm basically naked already. Might as well go the extra mile and _really_ kill him."

Natasha grinned and nodded. "Good choice."

And then, a few moments later, Summer was fully naked and being photographed in a way that she still couldn't believe she had agreed to. As weird as it was, however, she really did feel completely safe and secure among her friends, and nothing about it felt bad or shameful or anything else. They all went to such lengths to make her comfortable, and it was not the thing of horror that her anxious mind had built it up to be over the previous week.

But that didn't mean that she didn't still have a moment towards the end that almost brought the shoot to a premature end. It came after she'd gotten done posing with a sheer, lacy robe, which had provided her a small sense of comfort in not being technically naked, but then as soon as she had taken that off and got back into bed, her nerves came back very suddenly.

"Um, Nat?" she said in a slightly small tone when Natasha had moved away after helping to pose her.

"Yeah?" she said quietly, moving back her way.

"I, uh... I might be on the verge of freaking out again, so if you could do that thing where you distract me and I get back into the groove of things..."

"Sure," Natasha said, not a trace of judgment or impatience anywhere to be found. She perched on the bed, far enough to be out of Nicolo's shot but close enough to still be a comfort to Summer. "Just breathe. It's okay. You're doing great, and we're almost done."

Summer nodded and took a deep breath. "Thank God."

"We can stop whenever you want, but the thing about _these_ pictures is... they're the ones that are gonna knock him out."

Summer grinned at her. "Think so?"

"You tell me," she replied. "Imagine him out on a mission, away from you for a couple weeks. But he's got a book full of these pictures. And they start out with you in that dress, looking like you just stepped out of a movie. And then with each page he turns, there's less and less clothes and more of _you_. What do you think would happen once he gets to the end?"

"I uh... I've got a few ideas," Summer replied, still smiling stupidly. "Well. One idea."

"Exactly. So just think about _that_. Think about how much he loves you. Think about how stunned he's going to be that you did this for him. And how much he's gonna enjoy it."

"He's gonna love it," Summer nodded. "He's just... yeah."

Natasha nodded. "Yeah. And if it helps... think about what he's gonna do to you after he sees the pictures on his birthday."

Summer had to fight not to shiver. She couldn't even _imagine_...

"Just think about that," Natasha grinned, "and look at the camera."

Summer took a deep breath, then turned her head and looked right at the lens, imagining that it was Bucky she was looking at, straight from the pages of a book in his hands.

Natasha smiled and slipped away. That last little push was all Summer needed to finish the job, and every person in the room could tell that the photos were going to turn out utterly _stunning_.

When it was over and Natasha had helped Summer into one of the hotel's white bathrobes, Summer was completely ecstatic, bordering on almost euphoric. She was proud of herself and her friends were equally proud of her, and after hugging them all and giggling with such mischief that one might have thought she'd just gotten away with robbing a bank, Summer grabbed the nearest bottle of wine and ended up getting herself officially and rather ragingly drunk for the first time since her honeymoon. But it was so much fun and she was so relieved that she'd done it, faced her insecurities and beat the living crap out of them, and there was nothing to do now but celebrate.

But first, she hugged each of her three irreplaceable friends and thanked them all for being patient and caring enough to be there for her and helping her through it.

"I told you you could do it," Natasha said as they hugged. After they drew apart, she smiled and added, "Just like I told you how you _could_ dance on your wedding night and how you _could_ get back in shape. See? You can do anything you want to."

Summer beamed and couldn't help but hug Natasha again, squeezing the life out of her. "You are seriously the best. I love you."

"I thought you were a horny drunk, not a sappy drunk," Natasha teased.

Summer pulled away and giggled drunkenly, "Hey, don't test me. I've just rolled around naked in a bed thinking about sexy things and I could _probably_ go a little gay right now if I had to."

"Oh boy," Natasha laughed. "Let's go get you ready to go home. I'm sure your husband wouldn't mind taking care of that problem for you."

Summer laughed with her and headed to the bathroom, so they could wash off her makeup and erase all traces of the secret photoshoot from her body. It had been a great night, and while it was likely that she'd change her mind a bit in the coming weeks, drunk Summer very much looked forward to seeing the photos once Nicolo had put all the finishing touches on them.

And the best part was, Bucky would never _ever_ see it coming.

**A/N: Hello, all :D this chapter's a week late because I had issues with it for some reason, BUT YAY it's done and now I can move on to the next chapter... which will cover Bucky's birthday :D hopefully you guys will like it. And hopefully you'll all like this chapter too :p I owe a lot to midnightwings96 for helping me get this chapter done and helping A LOT with specifics of the photo shoot and for more that'll be coming up in the next chapter :D I'm excited. I've been looking forward to this next chapter for what feels like forever. I'm also GREATLY looking forward to the one after it, too, but I'm giving no hints as to why :p **

**Thank you all for reading and reviewing! I love you all SO MUCH and I'm pretty sure I'll be seeing you all this time next week :D **


	50. Chapter 50

**A/N: SO today for the 50th chapter of this story (eeeeeeee!) I bring you guys... this lol. It's Bucky's birthday again and, let me just say first and foremost that this chapter was a challenge for me and my comfort zone and I am horribly embarrassed about portions of it but... well... this chapter called for certain elements and I did my best to deliver. Lol. AND, since I know that some of you guys aren't huge on super, ah, physical chapters, there's some action here too and fluff and what I think is one of the cutest moments so far in the story, so there's something here for everyone. I hope :D Anyway, thank you guys as always, and I am going to go hide under the covers and be embarrassed for the rest of my life now :D and BIG HUGE thanks to midnightwings96 for being encouraging and just utterly irreplaceable. Love to you all, and go easy on me, please :p**

Of all the potential different ways in which one could ring in their 101st birthday, punching in the teeth of a few scumbags seemed like as good of a choice as any for Bucky when he couldn't quite fall asleep after midnight came. The rest of the house was fast asleep, and he hadn't hit the streets since before Adelaide was born even though Summer had been telling him for a few months that she was perfectly fine with him playing vigilante again. He'd just been ignoring that itch, not wanting to be anywhere but home at night until he felt comfortable slipping out again. Eight months later, he finally did.

So, after giving Summer a kiss on her cheek and waking her just long enough to tell her where he was going, lest she wake up and panic to find him gone, he checked in on the kids before quietly leaving the house and heading to the city.

He took his bike there, fighting a little bit of lingering unease over leaving everyone at home alone. But he put it out of his mind, knowing that they were all fine and would still be asleep when he got back. It was just a bit harder leaving them behind at a house in a regular neighborhood than it had been leaving them in a fortified tower literally surrounded by Avengers.

Still, he kept on his way and, once he got into the city and left the motorcycle to continue on foot, he felt an odd sense of comfort amid all the noise and clamor of the typical New York City night. For as much as it had changed since he'd grown up there, it was still home, or at least it was supposed to be. It felt comfortable and he knew it well enough to not despise living there, though now technically he was part of the upper-middle class dwelling in the suburbs. _That_ was hilarious.

The city had its problem neighborhoods, the ones that he'd gotten quite familiar with during his first months playing vigilante. There was his old stomping ground of Brooklyn, particularly certain streets within it. Brownsville was the murder capital of the city, and Hell's Kitchen had a little bit of everything wrong with it, though rape seemed to the most prevalent as far as Bucky had seen of it. Each part of the city suffered from the same disease as the next, all displaying different symptoms and severity, and really it was no different than it had ever been, in his eyes. People were just more aware of the crimes now thanks to the media, but that didn't inspire anyone from doing a damn thing about it.

Maybe that was why he ended up wandering into Hell's Kitchen that night, or it was because of what had happened to Summer years ago, before he'd known her or even known himself. Maybe it was having a daughter now and wondering how any father could let his daughter out on the streets in a place like that, or even worse, how a father couldn't care at all one way or the other.

Maybe it was all the lingering feeling of owing the world and people within it such a deep debt for having taken lives on behalf of evil in the past. Maybe it was _all_ of those things, tied up together and pushing him deeper into the city, trying to find someone he could help.

He hadn't strayed to Hell's Kitchen as much as Brooklyn in the past, but he knew his way around and eventually found his way on top of a roof that served as a pretty good vantage point, or at least the best he was going to get for then. He kept watch, waiting for something or someone to call him to action. It could have been anything - an alarm, a cry of pain, the sound of a struggle. He wasn't picky.

Eventually, he found something worth following up on. The sound of two people arguing down below, a man and a woman, followed by sudden silence and what might have been a muffled struggle. He peered over the edge of the roof and watched as the man dragged the woman off of the street and between two buildings, and then it was only a matter of pulling his handy ski mask on over his face and getting down to street level.

On his way down, he couldn't help but feel as if he was being watched. He looked around, checking all angles and searching for the smallest sign of being followed, but there was nothing. He went on, undeterred, and quickly made his way to the alley where his suspicions regarding the nature of the struggle between the man and woman were proven true.

It was almost too easy coming up behind the man and throwing him off the woman, tossing him into the building and then telling the woman to run and get to safety first before calling the police. She thanked him frantically, the way that women usually did when he pulled their attackers off of them, and after she dashed off he took care of the guy without hardly breaking a sweat.

But as easy as it was, it still felt good. He left the man unconscious, propped up against the edge of the alley where cops would find him in a few moments, and then he slipped back into the night and away from the eyes of others.

Or at least he thought he had, until the sensation of being watched became overwhelming and impossible to ignore. He knew it wasn't his imagination and it wasn't the adrenaline in his veins making him sense things that weren't there. He kept walking, keeping the mask on in case he was being tracked, and he focused on getting somewhere away from the streets and the people driving by. He noted an empty warehouse up ahead and walked there, feeling the unknown presence more and more the closer he got.

He ducked behind a wall of the warehouse as soon as he got close enough. He listened and watched, scanning the area with his eyes and finding nothing. He waited long enough to start thinking that maybe it had all been in his head after all, a side effect of staying home a bit too long and having to get used to all of this again, and then he stepped back out.

He hadn't taken more than three steps before he heard a voice behind him.

"_Who are you?_"

He froze where he stood, instincts roaring to life as he realized he hadn't been wrong after all. Judging by the sound of the voice, the man wasn't very far behind him. He could either run or turn around and face the person.

A thousand possibilities ran through his head during the split second it took for him to turn around. Was it HYDRA? Criminal? Gang member? Agent?

None of those answers seemed likely once he turned and looked at the man who'd been tracking him. He was only a number of feet away, dressed in all black and the entire top half of his face masked. It didn't even seem likely that he could see through the mask.

And whoever he was, he was poised for attack the very same way that Bucky was.

"_I said_ who are you?"

Bucky paused and considered his options for one more split second. He could run, and he'd get away. He was faster than normal men. It would be easy. But then he would be risking the chance of being tracked back home, and that wasn't a chance he was willing to take.

And so, instead of turning and running the other way, he came at the other man swinging. His plan was simple: knock him out as quickly and efficiently as possible and then call it a night. But the problem was, the man was rather well trained, and Bucky found that out rather quickly.

Bucky tried to hit first with his right hand, since staying under the radar sometimes meant not smashing his metal fist into random faces, but the man deflected the hit and came back at him with a punch of his own. Bucky jerked back and avoided it, and then suddenly, he was in the middle of a fierce fight that he hadn't seen coming that particular night.

If the man's vision was impaired by the mask, he showed no signs of it. Bucky was shocked by how good he was, and he had to stay on his toes and not give an inch to keep from getting knocked down. He had no idea who this guy was or _why_ he was so skilled, nor why he had been following Bucky, and that made him all the more dangerous.

Bucky landed a few hits, but so did his opponent - one to his side and another to his head, but it was nothing he couldn't handle or match. At one point, Bucky gained enough of the upper hand to shove the man against the wall and pin him there with his left arm across his throat.

As Bucky held the man to the wall, his disguised left arm began to make noises that were beyond his control. It whirred and clicked loudly, and Bucky began to grow more wary when in the midst of struggling against his grip, the other man seemed to briefly stop and listen to the sounds.

Bucky then let the man shove him away, wanting to get distance and not let whoever this was figure out who he was fighting. It was then that sirens sounded nearby, surely the cops coming to arrest the rapist that Bucky had left in the alleyway, and as both men stopped fighting for a moment and remained where they were, he decided to end whatever this was now.

"Who the hell are you?"

"I asked first," the other man replied, breaths coming heavy from exertion.

Bucky almost laughed. Was this guy serious? "Who sent you?"

"Nobody," he replied, the blare of the sirens getting closer. "I work alone."

Bucky eyed him silently, the side of his head not feeling so great from when the guy had punched the side of it, but his mind was perfectly clear with the adrenaline of battle.

"Why did you take out that rapist?"

Bucky blinked and replied, "Somebody needed to."

"Yeah. I was going to. Then you showed up."

Bucky furrowed his brows slightly and then deducted, "So you're a vigilante."

"Something like that. Same as you, I'm guessing."

Bucky saw the flashing lights of the cop cars back on the street, their lights just barely reaching the walls to Bucky's left. He then shrugged slightly and replied, "Something like that."

"This is my city," the other man replied, voice low but no longer threatening. "And like I said, I work alone."

Bucky could understand that. He didn't know this guy and he didn't know Bucky either, and that was the way it had to stay. "Fine. Never liked Hell's Kitchen much anyway."

The other man almost smiled. _Almost_. It was more like a barely-there, barely-amused quirk of the lips. "Then you'd better get out of here before the cops get interested."

Bucky gave a short nod, wondering if the guy could even see the gesture. Then, purely out of curiosity, he asked, "You got a name?"

"You must not read the papers," he replied dryly before turning and not walking out of sight but _leaping_ up the wall of the warehouse and catching the fire escape with his hands. He pulled himself up on it and then he was gone, leaving Bucky down on the ground to furrow his brows and wonder once again who the _hell_ this guy even was, and how he could see where he was going.

After that odd and unexpected encounter, Bucky decided to get out of the city for the night and head home. Normally he would have lingered and kept an eye out for more trouble, but that night, what he'd already found was enough for then. And besides... apparently, he wasn't the only one in town with a vigilante hobby.

* * *

Later that morning, Summer awoke to the sounds of a hungry baby on one side, from Adelaide's crib on the other side of the room, and a snoring husband on the other. She glanced at Bucky sleepily and smiled as she sat up, taking in the sight of him passed out face-first in the bed with his hair covering most of his face. She knew he'd be out for a couple more hours, since he'd been out late beating up bad guys in the city, so she made sure to be quiet as she got out of bed and picked up their baby from the crib.

She'd been waiting for this day to come for what felt like ages now. It wasn't everyday that one's husband turned 101, and it _definitely_ wasn't every day that she was going to put on her bravest face possible and present said husband with a gift that she could barely believe she'd actually gone through with. The photo album in question, a book that was far more discreet on the outside than it was on the inside, was sitting gift-wrapped in her underwear drawer and had been for a week now. Today was the day she'd finally give it to him, and while she couldn't have been happier with the photos and Nicolo had done an _amazing_ job with them, she was pretty sure that she'd never been more nervous in her life.

But, there was much to do before it was time to deal with all of _that_. She had breakfast to get ready and kids to get dressed and fed, and sometime in the afternoon Steve and a few others were coming over for a low-key birthday party. Well, as low-key as Summer could manage, which probably wasn't very low-key at all, but she couldn't help _that_. And on the bright side, it was all a very helpful distraction from having to think about giving him her own gift later.

After getting breakfast done and getting both kids fed and taking an impressive three-minute shower after, Summer sat both Adelaide and David down in the kitchen with a tableful of art supplies and helped them create a homemade birthday card. David took the task very seriously, designing most of it himself and meticulously making sure that everything looked perfect, while Adelaide had a blast getting elbow-deep in non-toxic finger paint and making a huge mess. What resulted was a card that was half perfect and half chaos, with little tiny baby handprints on one side and David's impressive pictures and handwriting on the other. Summer liked it that way, since it represented both kids' personalities just right. Bucky would surely love it.

Once the paint had dried, she set the coffeemaker to brew a new pot and then got Adelaide cleaned up. Next stop was her bedroom to wake Bucky up now that it was almost noon, and David ran in front of her with the card in hand the whole way there.

Bucky was still knocked out once they made it to the room, but that would soon change once David all but cannon-balled on the bed and Summer sat down with Adelaide on Bucky's other side. David poked and prodded Bucky's right shoulder while Summer called pleasantly, "Time to wake up, birthday boy!"

Bucky stirred and groaned muffled against his pillow, only cracking an eye open when David's poking grew into impatient two-handed shaking of his whole arm. Once his eyes were open, David beamed and Summer put Adelaide down on the bed as she told the baby, "There he is! Go get him, Addie."

Bucky rolled on to his back just in time for Adelaide to attack him, crawling determinedly up the bed until she was climbing up his chest and giggling happily. He grinned widely and snatched both kids up in a hug, making them both giggle more as Summer looked on with a bright smile.

David quickly signed _happy birthday, Daddy_, and Bucky squeezed him tighter as he replied, "Thanks, buddy. You're getting strong, by the way. I can't ignore you when you try to wake me up anymore." David grinned at that, and then Bucky turned to his daughter and raised his eyebrows. "And look at you! You're so cute and... _pink_."

It was true. Today she was wearing a light pink dress and pink socks, and her rich brown hair reached just past her chin and had a giant matching pink flower clipped in it. All she needed were some sparkly wings and she'd be the cutest little pink fairy the world had ever seen.

"Well, you know me... I can't help myself," Summer smiled, leaning down so she could give Bucky a short and sweet kiss on the lips. "Happy birthday."

"Thanks," he grinned lazily, glancing down at her lips and then back at her eyes. She grinned back stupidly and then kissed him again, and this time Adelaide giggled at them. It wasn't anything new - she always found it quite hilarious whenever they kissed, for some reason.

Then David interrupted by shoving the card into Bucky's hand, and Bucky sat up as he opened it up and immediately smiled at the contents. He looked at David and said, "_Wow_. You really worked hard on this." David nodded proudly, and then Bucky glanced at Adelaide before saying to Summer, "I can't even imagine the mess she must have made."

"Yeah... it was pretty intense," Summer chuckled as Bucky went back to reading the card.

Once he was done, he closed it and then grabbed David for another hug, this one even bigger than the last. "Thank you. I love it, I really do."

David, clearly delighted with the card being a hit, was all smiles as Bucky let him go and then gave Adelaide another squeeze too. She decided to stay in his arms for the time being, opting to take part in her favorite pastime of trying to pull his hair out of his head as he turned to Summer and raised an eyebrow. "All right. These two set the bar really high, so you'd better have something good for me."

Grinning at his teasing tone, Summer replied, "Well, I have coffee and breakfast waiting for you. I would have done the whole breakfast in bed thing, but I know how you feel about finding crumbs in bed, so..."

"Yeah, good call," he agreed, still grinning back.

"I thought so. So... you're just gonna have to wait until later for my present."

"How much later? When everybody gets here?"

Fighting a blush that she felt trying to engulf her face already, Summer smiled nervously and said, "No. I mean _later_ later."

"Oh," his grin widened a little bit. "Okay."

"Yeah, so... just be patient," she said, giving his arm a little pat and then trying to get up from the bed, but he grabbed her wrist and pulled her back to his side. He kissed her again, which made Adelaide giggle one more time, and Summer said with a twinge of pink on her cheeks, "We gotta get moving if we're gonna stay on schedule today."

"Schedule? It's my birthday. I don't want to follow a schedule on my birthday," he half-joked, absently tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

"Yeah, well... this is what I do for a living, so it's a hard habit to break," she shrugged. "Besides, I'm not leaving any chance of us missing our reservations tonight."

His eyes brightened at that, and after wincing slightly at Adelaide's latest attempts to rip his hair out, he asked, "Sure we can't just skip everything else and go straight to _that_?"

"Considering I spent about two and a half hours making your cake yesterday, no, not really," Summer smiled before managing to slip away from him and get off of the bed. She then pulled all the covers off and announced, "Everybody up! It's almost one, and everybody's getting here at two!"

David was the first to get up, quite excited for the day ahead and needing no further encouragement. Bucky grumbled slightly but got up next, still holding Adelaide, and he walked straight to Summer. He gave Adelaide a kiss on the cheek and then handed her to Summer, then gave Summer another kiss before his hand slid to her waist and his lips went to her ear. "I can't _wait_ for tonight."

He pulled away as Summer smiled and bit her lip, looking up at him with a mixture of excitement and slight fear in her eyes. "Me too, but..."

"She'll be all right," Bucky assured her, nodding towards Adelaide.

"I know, but... we've never spent an entire night away from her before," Summer said, looking at the baby and pouting a little.

"Yeah, but it'll be good for us. Good for her, too," Bucky said, briefly running a hand over the back of Adelaide's head.

"Yeah... I'm just nervous," Summer sighed, looking up at Bucky and frowning just a little bit.

"Don't be," Bucky told her quietly. Then a slight grin reached his lips as he added, "Besides, I can promise you that I'm gonna do everything I can to distract you."

Summer couldn't help but smile a little at that. There was a good and valid reason why she'd booked them a hotel room for just the two of them that night. Not only was it his birthday and already a special occasion, but they were always so busy and so tired and distracted that they didn't have much time for just each other anymore. It was just the way that life was at that point, but when they had been making plans for his birthday a few weeks before, it had been his idea to leave the kids with Steve and Natasha and have the whole night for just each other. That was _really_ all he wanted for his birthday, and deep down, Summer knew it was not only healthy for them but also healthy for Adelaide to learn to trust being cared for by others.

But that didn't mean she wasn't going to be extremely nervous about it.

"I'm gonna take a shower," Bucky said, kissing her cheek one more time before she nodded and then watched him disappear into the bathroom. He didn't close the door before tossing her one more little smirk, however.

Summer sighed heavily and looked at Adelaide and her fat little cheeks, muttering, "This is gonna be one hell - I mean heck, one heck - of a day."

* * *

The first part of the day went off without a hitch. Summer's house filled up with people, including her brother and sister in law and all one million of their kids, and even Tony and Pepper dropped in for a quick visit. The cake that Summer had slaved over disappeared within only two hours of being cut, and between the sounds of yelling kids and equally loud adults, Summer managed to forget what she was nervous about for a solid couple of hours. Bucky was happy and surrounded by people who cared about him, and at the end of the day, that was all Summer had ever truly wanted for him.

It was after most of the guests had left and Adelaide went down for a nap that five o'clock rolled around, which meant that Summer had to get ready to leave for her and Bucky's night on the town. She had been getting Adelaide settled in her crib while Bucky had gotten ready, and somehow they had missed one another after, so Summer had no clue what he was wearing by the time she was getting dressed herself.

The dress that she was going to wear had been purchased the same day as the red one that she'd worn in her boudoir photos. Natasha had thrown it at her and told her to wear it on her next night out with Bucky, and ever the obedient student when it came to her best friend/mentor, she decided to follow Natasha's advice. It was a daring but tasteful "little black dress", and it seemed to fit the theme of the night and the gift she would be giving Bucky - also daring and tasteful.

She went about her routine in mostly silence, hands a little shaky and mind racing the entire time. She was on autopilot, fixing her hair and putting on makeup and fretting silently, lacking the distractions she'd had the whole day. It was just about time to face the music, and if she felt vaguely like she wanted to throw up, well... she didn't have a lot of control over that.

Once she was ready, she left her bathroom and headed to her closet to pick out a pair of heels and grab her coat. Her dress was short and it was chilly outside, and after a moment spent in irrational worry, she decided to throw on the coat then rather than walk out in just the dress and heels and try to wow her husband. It had been _that_ long since she'd dressed up like this for him, and the worries over her photos were bleeding into her worries for everything else.

But, as she went to close her closet door, something sitting on the very top shelf caught her eye. It was Thor's wedding gift to her, the small chest full of different little vials of various potions. Seeing it jogged her memory regarding one of the potions inside, and after only a moment's contemplation, she reached up and retrieved the chest.

Of all the potions that Thor had gifted to her, she had only used one so far, which was the one for pain that had made her labor experience utterly incredible. There were still quite a few others sitting there and waiting for her to use, and one of them seemed like they might prove particularly useful that night.

She located the vial in question and unrolled the little piece of paper containing its instructions, reading through the immaculate writing quickly and then taking a breath.

The potion was, essentially, a potion which would give its drinker a dose of pure, genuine _confidence_. Apparently it was a good potion to take when one was about to charge into battle or make a public speech, or perhaps face an enemy that they were almost sure to face defeat at the hands of.

Or, in Summer's case, have dinner with her husband of a year and a half and give him a book of pictures of her in various states of undress.

She grabbed the potion and put the chest back where she'd gotten it from, then got her purse and carefully deposited the vial into an inner zippered section. Then she walked to her dresser and grabbed Bucky's present out from the very bottom of her underwear drawer, slipped it into the purse, and then ran out of reasons to stall any longer.

She took a deep breath, closing her eyes and telling herself to get over it and be a man - well, woman - and go have a fantastic night out like she deserved.

Summer repeated that like a mantra as she left her bedroom, coat on and purse in hand, walking down to the living room and trying to focus on how excited she was rather than how nervous she was _going_ to be. She was so distracted that it caught her by complete surprise when she reached the living room and walked in on one of the cutest things she'd ever seen in her life.

Adelaide had woken up, apparently, and she was in her "jumperoo" - a contraption that she stood in and could bounce up and down in while playing with the plethora of toys that lined it - and she was staring excitedly at Bucky, who was sitting directly in front of her on the couch and hiding his face with his hands. Steve and Natasha were sitting next to him, both quite obviously taken with Adelaide's antics, but it was what happened next that made Summer's heart melt.

Bucky quickly moved his hands to the side and exclaimed in a pitch that only Adelaide could bring out of him, "_Peekaboo_!"

Adelaide laughed so hard that she couldn't breathe, throwing her head back and being so _fricking_ cute that it made Bucky giggle. _Giggle_. Or at least giggle as much as he was capable of.

Summer nearly fainted.

Bucky kept the game of peekaboo going and Summer watched until Steve glanced back and noticed her standing in the doorway with the world's stupidest - in a good way - expression on her face

"Oh, I think that's our cue," Steve said to Natasha, and Bucky glanced back and immediately smiled happily at Summer. She smiled back, trying to get her heart to start beating again after having been slain at the sight of the Winter Soldier playing peekaboo with his baby daughter.

"Ready?" Bucky asked, getting up and grabbing his suit jacket from where it had been laying on the back of a chair a moment before. Summer's words stuck in her throat as she watched him slip it on, her eyes dragging up and down and mind trying to recall the last time she'd seen him look like _this_. His long hair was combed back and behind his ears, parted on the side, and he was wearing a suit that she hadn't seen him actually wear yet. It was a rich dark blue and he wore a black shirt underneath without a tie, and it all fit him perfectly.

"Summer?"

She blinked and finally returned to reality. "Yeah? Oh. Yeah, I'm ready."

She smiled and he smiled back, his turn to look her over now. He walked to her, eyes lingering at her shoes for a moment before moving slowly back up, and he was leaning in to give her a small kiss by the time his eyes met hers again.

"You look great," he grinned before kissing her as she smiled.

"You look better," she replied, sincerely meaning it.

A brief roll of his eyes was his answer, and then he gently tugged at the belt cinching her long coat together. "What's under here?"

"You'll find out later," she grinned back before side-stepping him and heading for her kids to tell them goodbye.

First she hugged David and told him to be good, and he shrugged off her worries as per usual. She kissed the top of his head and then went to Adelaide next, picking her up out of her jumper and squeezing her in a big hug.

"I'm gonna miss you, Addie," she sighed before kissing her cheek, then turning to Natasha and Steve. "Okay, so you guys know where everything is. I pumped a _lot_ of milk and it's all in the fridge, and in about an hour she'll be ready for a jar of baby food. Try the pears first, and don't bother with anything green because she won't eat it. She usually fall asleep around ten, and -"

"I know, honey," Natasha said with amusement. "I got your email."

Summer smiled and sighed again, closing her eyes. "Okay. Sorry. I'm just... yeah. Nervous."

Natasha then walked forward to take the baby from her arms, telling Summer as she did, "Don't worry. She's gonna be fine. Go have fun."

"Okay," Summer nodded. "Thank you. Thank you both so much for this."

Natasha nodded and Steve shrugged, telling both her and Bucky, "It's no problem. We're happy to do it."

Before Summer could launch into another nervous list of unnecessary instructions, Bucky took her hand and began to lead her away. "Okay, well... call me if anything happens, and -"

"Yeah, yeah - bye!" Natasha grinned as Bucky literally dragged Summer away.

"Bye!" Summer called back as Bucky steered them towards the front door, which he opened and led her out of before she could protest or hardly even notice. Then, once the door was shut and Summer and Bucky were both suddenly alone at last for the first time in months, he looked at her and gave her hand a squeeze as he grinned, "You good?"

She took a breath. "Yes. I'm good."

He nodded. "Let's go."

Ever the gentleman, he walked her to the car helped her get into the passenger seat. She looked at him and smiled when he let go of her hand, quickly looking over her again and wearing a stubborn grin of his own as he closed her door and then walked over to the driver's side door. He looked _so_ good, and she couldn't seem to take her eyes off of him.

She kept watching him after he got inside and closed his door, sliding the key into the ignition and then glancing her way. He paused when he saw the way that she was looking at him, and as the engine came to life, he half-grinned and asked, "What?"

Summer shook her head slightly and leaned over the console, her hand going to his face as she kissed him the way that she'd wanted to from the moment she'd seen the way that he looked that night. His hand left where it had been pulling his seat belt across his lap and moved to her hair, pulling her closer as he kissed her back slowly.

She didn't want to let go, so she didn't. She deepened the kiss, unable to remember the last time they'd kissed like that. Lately it was all short and sweet kisses, stolen here and there whenever they could manage, which was fine. But she'd missed this greatly, and Bucky clearly had as well.

Moments passed before they both pulled away, Summer feeling a little dazed just from _that_ and Bucky cradling her face, staring at her and saying lowly, "You trying to make us late?"

She grinned and shook her head. "No, I just... I've missed you."

His eyes were full of understanding and equal desire as he leaned down and kissed her again, just as deeply and slowly as before. Her stomach fluttered and she forgot about the time and forgot why she was nervous for a few more blessed moments.

But then he pulled away again, his forehead against hers as he muttered, "We really _are_ gonna be late if we don't leave now."

She nodded, swallowing and slipping back fully into her seat. "Yeah. Sorry about that."

He grinned at her, flipping on the headlights with one hand while the other went back to his seat belt. "Don't be. I've missed you too."

She smiled back, knowing that this night truly was exactly what they needed. As he pulled out of the driveway and got them on the road, his right hand moved to hold her left, and she looked down at both of their wedding rings sitting on their entwined fingers. The sight never failed to make her smile, and this time was no exception.

Then her eyes drifted to her purse, where her photo book sat innocently inside, and her smile faded to something more of a nervous grimace.

She just might need that potion after all.

* * *

The restaurant that Bucky had chosen for his birthday was far fancier than the sort of thing he'd normally go for, but he'd picked it just as much for Summer as he had for himself. She knew that he was trying to sweep her off her feet as much as enjoy his day, and she _loved_ that. It was also only five minutes away from the hotel they'd be spending the night at, so that made it even better.

When they arrived at the restaurant, Summer kept her coat on rather than hand it over before the host led them to their table. She told Bucky she was still a little cold and that was true, but it was also true that she wasn't totally okay with taking it off just yet for far sillier reasons. She'd worn more revealing dresses out before, but it had been quite a long time and she planned on staying within the safety of her coat for as long as she could, silly or not.

They were then led to a little table near one of the corners of the restaurant, a little more private than some of the others but not entirely out of the view of other patrons. Bucky pulled out her chair for her and she thanked him with a little smile, and he gave her a _wink_ before taking his own seat across from her.

She took a deep breath, one of many she'd already taken, and she wondered how in the world she was going to eat an actual meal when all she wanted to do was leap across the table and devour him.

In any case, she started looking at her menu as Bucky ordered their wine first. She'd been here before a couple of times, usually at lunch with work associates, so she knew that everything was good and she couldn't really go wrong. Keeping that in mind, she decided on one of the first things her eyes went to and then closed her menu before Bucky had so much as looked at his.

He raised an eyebrow at her. "You're ready that fast?"

She shrugged. "I know what I want, so..."

He grinned. "Yeah... so do I."

"Really? You haven't even opened the menu yet," she noted.

"I wasn't talking about food."

She grinned back at him. In all likelihood, this was exactly what the entire dinner was going to be like.

"Well... as far as the food goes, you should try the salmon. It's amazing and it's light enough that you'll still have room for dessert."

His damn grin was unstoppable. "Will I?"

"I hope so," she said, cheeks heating up a little. "They, um... they've got an incredible tiramisu."

"I still wasn't talking about food."

"I know," she smiled, looking down and trying to escape his gaze even though she knew it was futile.

That was when their server came back with a bottle of wine and an offer to take their orders if they were ready. Bucky let her order for them both, and the entire time, he didn't take his eyes off of her once. In fact, he got rather comfortable in his seat, leaning his head to one side and tapping a finger on his lips as he stared at her and made her squirm a bit on the inside.

Once the server was gone, Summer looked at him and couldn't help but smile a bit nervously. But before she could say a word, Bucky casually asked her, "What are you wearing under that coat?"

"Oh, um, just -"

"Are you wearing _anything_ under there?" he asked, clearly finding such a prospect rather intriguing.

Her eyes widened and she half-gasped, "_Yes_! Yes, I'm wearing a dress." She smiled and added, "I'm not _that_ daring."

He smiled back and shrugged, "I just thought maybe that was why you didn't want to take it off, and maybe... maybe you planned on opening it once we were in the car, or at the hotel."

Filing that idea away for later use, Summer shook her head and laughed quietly. "No... sorry. Maybe next year?"

He grinned and bit the tip of his finger, which she found her eyes suddenly fixated upon. "I wouldn't complain." He watched her smile in reply, and then as she raised her glass of wine to her lips, he asked, "So when do I get to find out what your gift is?"

And there it was - pure and utter terror. Summer gulped down the sip of wine she'd been taking, and then she set the glass down and stammered, "Well, um... I, uh..."

He sat there, watching and waiting for her answer, and she found that she had absolutely no clue what to say or how to present the gift to him, or even how to gain the courage to pull it out of her bag at all.

And that was when she realized that the night could _not_ go on like this. She wouldn't allow it to.

"I'll be right back," she said abruptly, grabbing her purse and then all but bolting from the table. She made a beeline to the ladies' room without looking back once, knowing that Bucky _had_ to be confused and maybe even a little concerned, but he'd surely thank her later for what she was about to do.

Once in the safety of the restroom, she walked to the sinks and looked at her reflection with a heavy sigh. She placed her palms down on the counter, eyeing herself unhappily and mentally asking _why do you have to be such an idiot all the time? _

Shaking her head at herself, she reached down into her purse and unzipped one of the inner sections, pulling out the vial of literal liquid courage that she'd stashed in there. She just wanted to have a good night with her husband and make sure that his birthday was everything he wanted it to be, without letting herself get in the way of either of those things.

And that was why she popped off the top of the vial and downed it in one gulp. What was the worst that could happen?

It tasted a _lot_ different from the pain potion she'd taken during labor. This one tasted like mint and a hint of lemon, and other things that were probably uniquely Asgardian and therefore impossible for her to identify. It wasn't bad, and after she deposited the vial back into her purse, she went back to staring at her reflection and waiting for the effects to kick in.

As she waited, she furrowed her brows slightly as she eyed her coat. It was actually kind of hot now, so she unbuttoned it and then undid the belt, taking the coat off and laying it over her arm. Then she looked at her hair and ran her fingers through it, noting that it actually looked pretty good tonight, then making the same observation for her makeup, aside from her lipstick. She'd gone with a more neutral lip color earlier, but now she decided to fix that and put on a shade of red that Bucky had expressed his affection for in the past. She then straightened out her dress and suddenly felt incredibly silly for still being in the stupid bathroom when she could have been sitting at the table with Bucky and making him drool with how good she looked that night.

As she walked to the restroom door, she wondered once more when the heck the potion was going to kick in, but then she realized something. It already had.

She felt good. She _looked_ good and she knew it. The nervous thrill that been prickling at her from the inside was gone now, and she felt warm and at ease for the first time all day. In fact, there was nothing else she wanted to do more than walk out of that bathroom and finally give Bucky his gift and utterly blow him away.

She smiled to herself, silently thanked God for Thor and also for Loki's lady friend, and then squared her shoulders and walked back out into the restaurant like she owned the whole damn place.

* * *

As Bucky waited patiently for Summer to return, he sipped his wine and continued to wonder what the hell had her so jittery. A few years prior, when she'd written her sexy little story for him that eventually became her novel, she'd acted very nervous about that as well but this was even worse. And he was completely stumped as to why.

He looked around the room, all the other patrons minding their own business and eating their overpriced food, and he hoped that the night would go half as well as he had been imagining it would. He had been looking forward to this night for days, but he wouldn't enjoy it if Summer didn't. He _couldn't_ enjoy it if she didn't.

She was taking awhile in the bathroom, and he was on the verge of playing on his phone to pass the time when he glanced up and suddenly froze where he sat. Summer had finally emerged from the bathroom, and her coat was off of her at last. And she was walking - no, _strutting_ \- to him like she suddenly had all the confidence in the world.

She was wearing a short, long-sleeved black dress that hugged her curves perfectly and had a neckline just low enough to draw his eyes where they had a habit of sticking at least a few times a day. Her legs looked _amazing _and her figure could make his mouth water, but even more than that, it was the _way_ that she was walking to him that left him speechless. He'd never seen her walk like that - _ever_ \- and she held her head high with such confidence that he could hardly believe that this was his wife.

She smiled playfully at him as she approached the table, going to him first and dropping a little kiss on his cheek with her newly red lips as she said, "Sorry I took so long."

"It's... okay," he said, blinking at her in slight confusion. Then she turned and stepped to her chair, and he swallowed when he saw that her dress was backless. He shifted slightly in his seat, meeting her gaze after she sat and shot him another flirty look.

She picked up her wine and took a healthy sip as he stared at her. Eventually he managed to lick his lips and say, "You look... _wow_."

She grinned and set the wine down, replying, "I thought you'd like it."

"Why'd you hide it from me for so long with your coat?" he asked, still trying to pinpoint what had happened between her going to the ladies' room and coming back to the table that caused her to carry herself so differently. She also had a little mischievous glint in her eye, and he just couldn't place it.

She paused, thinking for a moment before replying, "I guess I just... needed a minute to get myself together. It's been so long since we've been out together, just the two of us, you know? It's kinda weird."

"Yeah," he smiled slightly, "I know."

She smiled back, then reached across the table to take his hand - his left one, looking to all the world like a normal flesh and blood hand. She held it there on the table and said, "I just want to thank you for putting up with me and my weirdness. I know I'm ridiculous and you're so patient with me, and I'm pretty sure you're the only guy in the world who would be, so... thank you."

He smiled and rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. "You're welcome. And I don't put up with nearly as much trouble from you as you put up with from me."

She gave him an incredulous look, but before she could argue, her smile grew just a little bit bigger and she slipped her hand out of his. "Ready for your present?"

"Yeah," he immediately replied, _more_ than ready, and Summer shot him an excited grin.

He watched as she reached into her bag, at least until she glanced at him and said, "Close your eyes and hold out your hands."

He smiled and did as she said, and within the next few seconds, he felt a solid weight being placed into his hands. "Open," she said, and he opened his eyes and looked down upon his gift.

It was wrapped in black and silver, which earned Summer an amused look, and she merely looked at him with all of that mischievous air that he was so unused to seeing from her. "Go ahead, open it."

"All right," he said quietly, carefully tearing the paper and trying not to make too much noise. Once it was all off, Summer took the ball of wrapping paper from him as he realized that the present she'd been so nervous about was a book.

"Is this your book?" he asked her, asking the first thing that popped into his head.

"No," she grinned. "This is something completely different that I had made only for you."

The cover of the book was mostly plain, just a subtle and dark design on a hardcover, and when he opened it to the very first page, he found the page to be blank aside from a section in the middle stating that the book was made for him, with his full name listed there in fancy print. He glanced up at Summer curiously, only to find her blushing and still wearing that excited grin.

He turned another page, and this time, his questions were answered. Lying before him were two extremely high-quality photos of Summer; in the first, she was standing in the middle of a very old fashioned hotel room in an amazing red dress, her back to the camera and only her face's profile visible. In the second, she was facing the camera, looking out the window. She looked like a movie star from _his_ era, from the curls of her hair to the makeup on her face, and he looked up at her with awe written on his face.

"Summer... you... when did you _do_ this? This is incredible," he said, turning to the next page.

"Last month," Summer replied, watching with glee as he stared wide-eyed at the photos. "Nicolo took the pictures, and Natasha and Esteban helped direct everything."

"You look amazing," he said, pausing at the first close-up photo of her. In his eyes, she was absolutely flawless, and it had nothing to do with the editing that Nicolo had applied to the photos. She might have looked like a movie star, but to him, she put all the real ones to shame. "I was definitely not expecting this."

Little did he know, the real shock was yet to come.

Their server came and brought their food when he was five or six pages deep into the book. Summer casually started eating, but Bucky was too deeply engrossed in what he was looking at to care much about dinner. She ate and watched him in silent amusement, waiting for what was sure to be a priceless reaction once he got to the _good_ stuff.

When he innocently turned a page and then found two photos of Summer _out_ of the dress and in only a set of gorgeous, lacy and partially _sheer_ black lingerie, he slowly looked up at her with his mouth open and eyes clearly betraying his shock.

Summer grinned and bit her lip. "Liking it?"

He tried to speak, but nothing came out for a good long moment. He looked down at the photos and then back up again, this time managing to sputter, "I... _yeah."_

She blushed, then popped in a few more bites of her food as he continued to ignore his plate and look through the book. He couldn't believe what he was seeing, but _wow_ was it incredible. Each page seemed to get better and better, and he wasn't aware of how he was starting to blush himself because he was too wrapped up in Summer's gift to notice such trivial things.

And yet, though the book had a clear pattern and he _should_ have known what was coming next, it still came as a great shock. He expected maybe some shots that hinted at nudity but didn't actually show anything, since this was Summer after all and she had her limits. But then she went and shot all of his expectations to hell, in the very best way possible.

In one photo, she was wearing only a long, sheer, lacy robe that barely covered anything but _just_ hid everything from the camera. She was sitting on the edge of the hotel bed, looking beyond the camera with her palms flat on the bed. It was gorgeous, and then in the next one, she was sitting the same way but with her head thrown back and the robe falling off of one of her shoulders and dragging down the other, which meant that...

He slammed the book shut, accidentally jostling the table in the process and making the plates and glasses clank nosily. He looked around, wide-eyed and face on _fire_, making sure that nobody had been behind him or otherwise able to see his wife's very naked body on the pages of the book. Thankfully, nobody was there, and after he smiled nervously at a few patrons who gave him the evil eye for causing so much noise, he looked at Summer to find her absolutely _loving_ every last bit of his flustered, shocked reaction.

"Whoa," she marveled gleefully, "You're blushing _so_ hard right now."

"I'm... I don't know what to say," he half-whispered, still looking around and currently nervously pulling his hair behind his ear, though it was already there to begin with. "I was _not_ expecting... I mean, I thought... _fuck_."

Summer giggled and then asked, "Which one did you see?"

He rubbed a hand over his face and then muttered, "The... the one with the robe where you're sitting with your head back and..."

"Oh." She then grinned even more deviously than before and said, "Trust me, it gets better."

His eyes widened and he glanced down at the book, and he realized that indeed, there were quite a few pages left to be explored.

He was going to die on his 101st birthday. There was simply no way around it.

After looking around cautiously again, he looked down at his lap and dared to open the book again. It went to a photo he'd already seen, and he slipped his fingertip between two random pages further down and then opened it there.

_There_ happened to be a set of photos of Summer lying on the same bed she'd been sitting on before, only this time she was naked aside from...

Face burning again, he looked up at Summer and said in a shaky voice, "You wore my leather jacket."

She nodded proudly. "That was Natasha's idea. I thought you'd like that."

He looked back down and tried not to gulp. His eyes were drawn to one picture where she was on her back, holding down the jacket by the bottom edges so that they pressed down on her breasts and just barely kept them from being fully visible. But it was her eyes in that picture that especially made his heart pound; they were heated and seductive, fixed firmly upon the camera and therefore _him_, and he was flabbergasted because he'd only seen her make a face like _that_ before during sex. And not just any sex, but the times when they _really_ went at it and he drove her so far out of her mind that she forgot about her insecurities and just let go.

... How the _hell_ had they gotten those faces out of her, and how could he ever possibly thank her and all three of her comrades enough?

He closed the book again, deciding to stop and save the rest for later because he was starting to have enough of a _problem_ as it was. He again raked his fingers through his hair for no reason, then looked up again at Summer to find that she couldn't possibly be enjoying this anymore than she already was.

"So... I take it you like your present?" Summer asked cheekily, still casually eating away while he had yet to even touch his food.

He laughed a little roughly, feeling his face burning still, and he managed to reply, "I think it's the best fucking birthday present I'll ever get, so yeah... yeah, I like it. I love it."

Summer smiled with pure happiness, sighing and saying, "Oh, thank God. I've been so worried and nervous this whole time, you have no idea."

"I can't believe you actually did this," he said, his tone one of pure admiration. Not only was she breathtakingly beautiful in all of the photos, but she'd worked so hard to get back in shape and she looked better than ever. She deserved to have stunning photos documenting that hard work and the gorgeous results.

"It wasn't easy," she admitted. "But... I did it for you. And for me. Nat talked me into it because of how much you'd love it, and because she said that I should... celebrate my hard work in getting back in shape after Adelaide, so... yeah." She then chuckled and added, "I was super drunk, though."

He grinned back, still in shock and just trying to process it all. He wanted to look through the rest of the pictures but not in a restaurant, and he also couldn't even stand up at that moment if he'd wanted to because of _reasons_, so he was stuck where he was and he had zero interest in actually eating his food. He was honestly still stuffed from eating a _lot_ of cake before they'd left, so he wasn't even hungry. At least not for _food_. Certainly not now.

"I just... wow. _Wow_," he said, wonderstruck. "I can definitely say that this was the last thing I expected."

"Honestly me too," she laughed softly. "But... I think I look pretty good in those pictures. Don't you?"

He stared at her incredulously, finding a knowing little grin on her face. She was doing this on purpose, and he was still struck by how confident she was acting. He would have expected her to go hide under a table or in an entirely different room while he looked over the book, but here she was, beautiful and proud and savoring every last bit of his dumbstruck reactions.

He realized just _how_ confident she was feeling when her high heeled foot started sliding up his leg under the table. He stared at her, heart pounding harder from the hungry way that she was looking at him.

He responded to her earlier question by saying, "You look _perfect_ in the pictures. And I haven't even seen them all yet."

Her grin returned, her foot still playing under the table with his leg, and she tilted her head a little as she leaned over her side of the table _just_ enough to give him a tantalizingly good view of her cleavage. "Good enough so that... when you're alone on a mission or maybe just have some time to kill... looking at the pictures might help you... y'know... blow off some steam?"

He had to fight to keep his jaw from dropping _again_. He couldn't believe that she was doing this and speaking of these things in a public place. It was so unlike her, but whatever had gotten into her... he loved it.

"Yeah," he teased back. "I think they'll... come in handy."

Just after he said that, their server came back to check on them. As the man grabbed Summer's plate from her, Bucky asked, "Can I get mine to go?"

"Sure," the server smiled, pausing. "Just not feeling it tonight?"

"No, I just wasn't that hungry to begin w-"

Bucky stopped talking abruptly, mid-sentence, thanks to Summer's wandering foot venturing up and between his legs, brushing over the _problem_ that her photos and her general demeanor had caused him. His eyes flew to her as his mouth hung open uselessly, every muscle in his body tensing as she merely grinned like she'd never had so much fun in her life.

He was going to _kill_ her for this, and by kill he meant absolutely wreck her in bed once they got to their hotel room.

The server babbled on obliviously, and Summer did the rest of the talking so Bucky wouldn't have to, smiling and being perfectly pleasant and giving nothing away. The minute that the guy left, Bucky narrowed his eyes and grabbed her ankle under the table, stopping her foot from continuing to rub on him as he hissed, "_Stop_."

"You sure about that?" she asked innocently. "Because I'm not sure that you can walk out here in your... condition."

"You're killing me," he muttered, looking around them and keeping an eye on the other patrons to make sure nobody was aware of Summer's antics. They weren't.

"Now you know how it feels," she smirked. Then she leaned closer and asked quietly, "Remember that time you put your left hand up my skirt and tested out the vibration on me while we were having dinner with my brother and _all_ of our friends?"

"That was different," he said a bit tightly.

She quirked a brow. "Was it?"

"No," he relented, "but unless you plan on sneaking under the table and _really_ doing this, you need to stop."

Thoroughly enjoying his torment, Summer finally gave in and drew her leg back. Then she said, "I've got a better idea."

Bucky then watched as she pulled out her wallet and laid enough cash on the bill to cover their costs, including a generous tip, and then stood up with a bright smile on her face. As she slipped back into her coat, he stood up carefully with the photo book in hand, trying to hold the bottom of his suit jacket in a way that would hopefully cover himself up. Summer then came and took the book from him and slipped it into her purse, then took his hand and smirked before leading him out of the restaurant.

She walked them out of there like she owned the place, heels clicking on the floor and head held high, and the confidence that she was displaying was so arousing and yet also so confusing, and Bucky was bordering on delirious by the time they made it outside.

"Summer, not that I'm complaining, but what the hell's gotten into you?" he finally asked once they were just outside the restaurant. As he waited for an answer, Summer looked around for a moment. Then she turned and unexpectedly grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket before literally pushing him around the side of the building, into an empty alley way that wasn't exactly shielded from public view.

Before he could take a breath, she pushed him up against the wall and kissed him feverishly. Her heels made them nearly the same height, and the pressure of her body against his, her lower half deliberately dragging against his, made him clutch at her hips and pull her more tightly against him even though he knew that he shouldn't. They should get to the car and go do this at the hotel, but he just didn't care at the moment and he was enjoying this unfamiliar side of her far too much.

The first time that she broke away to take a breath, her hands were on his chest and his were sliding down her mostly-bare back as she looked at him lustily and finally answered his last question. "The book's not your only gift. I took a potion when I went to the bathroom in the restaurant."

"A potion?" he repeated breathily and with slight confusion.

She nodded, letting her hand slide down his shirt. "It's a confidence potion. I was so nervous about giving you the book and even about wearing this dress out, and I'm just so _sick_ of being nervous. I wanted to have a night with you where I'm the way I am in my head instead of the way I am on the outside. So I drank it and... _that's_ why I'm acting like this."

"Oh." He stared at her as everything suddenly began to make sense. She then kissed his neck and started undoing his belt, and he closed his eyes and brought his hand up to bury it in her silky hair.

So _this_ was what she was truly like in that remarkable, gorgeous head of hers. He'd had glimpses of this part of her in her writing and in moments where she was either too drunk or too lost in pleasure to care, and then there had been the confidence that she displayed during her dance for him on their wedding night, but _this_... _this_ was going to be one hell of a night.

Her lips had found their way back to his by the time that her hand had slipped into his pants, teasing him enough to make him break their kiss and pant against her mouth. Though the last thing he wanted to do was stop her, he still managed to murmur, "Summer, we're... people could see us..."

"Shh," she hushed him, kissing him again for emphasis. She tightened her grip on him and moved her hand in a way that made his eyes close and head fall back against the wall, and she leaned in close and nipped just under his ear before saying lowly into it, "Do you want my hand or my mouth?"

His eyes popped open and he turned them desperately on her, breathing hard through his mouth and knowing that if she started talking dirty to him for the first time in their entire relationship, he was going to lose his mind.

"Tell me," she nudged him, kissing him and teasing her tongue against his in just the way that she was offering to use it on a different part of him. "It's your birthday. I'll do anything you want."

It was hard to formulate a single word when she was still touching him _and_ her voice was carrying such a dark, sexy quality to it that he'd never heard before. Some vague part of his brain registered that this was how she must feel all the time, minus the shock, whenever he spoke things like this to her in the heat of the moment.

"But if you can't answer me," she said, pulling her hand away and wearing a devious little grin, "then I'll just do what _I_ want."

Those words were his only warning before she dropped down to her knees, looking up and making eye contact with him as she grasped him once more and then leaned forwards, lips parting and...

He couldn't keep quiet. He tried, but he couldn't. If it had been a long time since they'd slept together - and it had been, plus rather rare in general over the last eight months - then it had been even longer since he'd gotten to enjoy _this_. But she wasn't any less skilled for lack of practice, and she didn't try to tease him or prolong it one single extra moment. Instead, she did everything that she knew would bring about a fast and powerful end for him, and it was so perfect and so _filthy_ that it was all he could do to hold on to her hair and try to grip the wall behind him to stay upright.

He fell apart chanting her name, tightly grasping her hair and trying to contain his sounds to the alley as best as he could. It was exquisite, and judging by her own little moans and her enthusiasm, Summer had clearly enjoyed herself as well. After it was over and he was barely still on his feet, she carefully tucked him away and fixed his pants for him, even tucking his shirt back in for him and then rising back up to her full height.

The smirk on her face made him want to return the favor over and over until she screamed and forgot her own name. But then she had to open her mouth and talk, instantly derailing his train of thought.

"At least _I_ saved room for dessert," she teased, leaning in to kiss him just deeply enough so that he couldn't possibly miss her meaning. He then looked at her with eyes that were still dazed with pleasure, heavy-lidded and brimming with promises of what was to come later. She merely smirked in that maddening way of hers and then gestured towards the street.

"Ready?"

He nodded, and she took his hand to lead him to their car. But before they had made it more than three steps away, he stopped her and yanked her against him, holding her there and grazing his lips on the shell of her ear as he told her roughly, "I'm gonna fucking tear you apart when we get to the hotel."

She turned her head so that she was looking up at him, another little smirk playing on her lips as she replied, "I'm counting on it."

After a moment, he let go of her. Then they at last made their way back to their car, Summer strolling there like she'd never been more pleased with herself than at that moment, and Bucky still trying to recover fully from the unexpected and brain-melting _encounter_ in the alley.

They hadn't even gotten to their hotel room yet, and this was already pretty damn high on his list of the best nights of his life.

* * *

Summer drove the short distance to the hotel while Bucky sat in the passenger seat and tried his best to recover. She was extremely pleased with herself, even more so when she caught him staring at her when she stopped at a red light just a few blocks away from the hotel.

She smirked at him and then reached for her purse, grabbing the book out of it and then handing to him. "Here. Thought you might want to start looking at the rest on our way."

He took the book from her, still giving her that look like he was so awed and thoroughly enchanted by her that he was just about speechless. When the light turned green, she finally looked away and he opened the book.

The potion hadn't worn off yet in the slightest. She still felt great, and being able to actually say and do what she wanted without the slightest twinge of embarrassment was incredible. It didn't change who she was, though, and that was the best part. She had still been blushing like crazy and she was fully in control of herself - she was just finally giving voice to the part of her that had always been capable of writing certain _things_ but never acting them out the way that she wished she could in her head.

When they arrived at the hotel, Summer stopped the car at the front where the valet would come and take it from there, and she looked at Bucky to find him completely engrossed in the latter pages of the book. She smiled a little and then called his name softly, which made him jump a little and slam it shut.

_God_, she loved seeing him so jumpy. "Let's go."

He nodded, tucking the book under his arm and then getting out of the car as she did the same. She gave the keys to the nice-looking young valet, and then she and Bucky were holding hands and entering the ritzy hotel.

As with dinner, she did the talking at the front desk and secured their room key without incident. She'd gotten them one of the very best rooms available - though not the penthouse because they didn't make quite _that_ much money - and she was incredibly excited to get the next phase of the night underway.

Key card in hand, they walked to the nearest pair of elevators and stepped on as soon as the doors opened. They spent the ride up nearly twenty floors alone, Summer glancing up at Bucky and finding him eyeing her like he was contemplating just how he was going to make good on his promise of tearing her apart. He didn't know that she still had a few ideas of her own up her sleeve.

After they stepped off of the elevator and found their room down the hallway, Summer held on to Bucky's hand while her other slid the key card in and opened the door. She walked inside first, Bucky close behind, and she flipped on the lights as he closed the door behind them.

It was the best hotel room she'd ever stayed in. It was large and roomy, divided into three full areas with one entire wall consisting of huge windows. It reminded her of the tower, only this room was - hopefully - soundproof and they weren't surrounded by friends who'd be able to hear every last noise they made.

Plus the bed was huge. That was a nice touch.

"Well," she said as she surveyed the room, "this looks pretty ni-"

Bucky turned her around before she could finish her sentence. He took her purse off of her shoulder and set it down on a nearby table, then placed her photo book on top of it, and then he leaned in and kissed her as his hands immediately went to work getting her coat off of her.

She let him push the coat down her arms and let it fall to the floor, and without breaking the kiss, he quickly shed his suit jacket and was going to drop it right on top of her coat before she stopped him. Breaking the kiss, she smiled and took the jacket from his hands, telling him, "I really like this _suit_," and then heading towards the small closet to hang it.

Bucky watched her the whole way, eyes on her back and her hips and her legs as she took care of his jacket, and then he followed her there. By the time she closed the closet door he was right behind her, moving her hair to the side so he could kiss her neck and taking her hips in his grasp. She smiled and leaned into his touch, covering his hands with hers and stopping them when they tried to tug up the bottom of her dress.

She turned her head so she could look into his eyes and said, "Hey now... we've got all night. No need to rush."

"I'm not feeling very patient tonight," he admitted, teeth nipping lightly under her ear.

She chuckled and guided his lips to hers so that she could kiss him. Then she murmured against his lips, "Well... I _did_ have another idea that I think you'll like."

He let out a huff of a breath and said, "Your ideas are gonna be the death of me."

She giggled softly and then managed to slip out of his arms. She gave him a _look_ and then walked to where her purse was sitting, and she took out her phone before she headed towards the other side of the room. In the little living area was a big TV and what she was betting was a dock for her phone. Bucky followed her there, and she quickly got her phone set up the way that she wanted. She turned up the volume on the docking station, and then she turned around and took Bucky's hands in hers as she led him to a part of the room that had enough room to dance in.

"Dance with me?" she asked him with a little smile as the first strains of the song she'd chosen began to play, Beyonce's _Rocket_. It was slow and sexy, the lyrics full of things she'd never said out loud before, and right then it felt like the most fitting song in the world to dance with him to.

The very first line of the song had him pause and look at her before he laughed. She did the same thing, knowing that he'd still gain a full appreciation of the song before the dance was over.

Her hands left his and her arms slid up and wrapped around his neck. His eyes remaining locked with hers, his hands curled around her hips and she brought her body firm against his as she began to slowly move to the building rhythm of the music. He followed her lead, and a low thrill hummed through her veins. They'd never danced quite like _this_ before, and they were only getting started.

It was slow, languid, perfect. Bucky moved perfectly with her, the gentle rock of their bodies against one another growing and becoming a little less soft the more they moved. He dropped his forehead against hers, closing his eyes and sliding his hand up her back, under her hair, and finally to the back of her head where he cupped it gently but didn't bring her closer. She ran her fingers through his hair, no longer afraid to mess it up now that it was just the two of them for the rest of the night, and then she let out a sharp breath when his left hand shifted her hips just enough so that he could slide his knee between her legs.

He pressed soft but hot kisses to her neck as he held her close with his hand on the small of her back, grinding their bodies together harder but still in sync with the music. Now he was leading her, and she didn't mind handing the reins to him at all. It felt so _good_, and there was something so incredibly sensual and intimate about dancing with him like that. She wondered why she'd never done this with him before.

His name left her lips in a breathy little noise, and he raised his head and let their eyes lock again while never faltering in their still slow, increasingly dirty dancing. Holding his hair tightly in her fingers, she ground herself on his thigh and took advantage of her confidence, letting herself voice her thoughts without hesitation. "This feels _really_ good."

"Yeah, you like this?" he asked lowly.

"I love this," she replied just before purposefully grinding a little harder on him, rubbing against the growing proof of how much he loved it too. "And I can tell that you do too."

He exhaled a little roughly, eyes closing for just a second, and she grinned before upping the ante and moving steadily harder against him. His eyes opened and he looked at her with pure heat in those blue depths, and she unbuttoned two of the buttons on his shirt as she lightly kissed him. She tried to pull away, but his hand pulled her back and he kissed her with a desperation that she wanted to take advantage of in every way that she could.

When the kiss broke, she rained kisses along his jaw and made her way to his ear. She couldn't help but whisper lowly, "You're so hot." A light groan and a tighter grip on her thigh was his answer, and as they rocked and he ground against her, she added, "And so _hard_."

His voice sounded a bit strangled as he muttered, "Dammit, Summer, if you talk like this I'm gonna..."

"Gonna what?" she prompted, still at his ear and still rocking just right against him so that it felt better and better for them both. "I can tell how good this feels for you. You could come just from this, couldn't you?"

She pulled away to see his reaction. He was both stunned and out of his mind with desire, and she suddenly wondered why the hell she hadn't always talked like this to him if this was the way that he'd react to it.

"Do you want to?" she asked, leaning in close and her nose grazing him as their lips nearly touched. "Tell me. Tell me you want to come like this."

"_Fuck_," he cursed under his breath, trembling a little against her as he held her so tightly that it nearly hurt. "_Yes_, I want to."

She grinned and gave him one more little kiss before turning in his arms, pressing her back fully against his front and pushing back against him. His hands immediately took advantage of the new position, first grasping her hips and pulling them impossibly closer as they continued to dance and he ground hard against her. Then his right hand moved down over her thigh and under her dress, replacing the pressure of his thigh with that of his fingers while his other hand moved up and almost frantically grasped her breast through her dress. All the while, he breathed hard into her neck and moved against her with increasing desperation.

Her hand was buried in his hair and his fingers were teasing the hell out of her, but this was for him and there was really only one thing that she wanted. "Don't be quiet, Bucky, let me hear you."

He answered her with a deep, rough groan, and she knew he wouldn't last much longer. It was clear in the sound of his voice and the tense way that he held her, not to mention the ever-harder way that he was grinding on her. She decided to talk him through it the way that he liked to do for her.

"Keep going, baby," she said, using one of his pet names for her, knowing it would drive her crazy. "Come on, faster." She tugged on his hair, knowing that he liked it when she pulled it, and she could tell when he was on the cusp of losing it. He was moaning beyond his control, mouth open and breath hot on her neck, and she knew what might give him the last little push he needed to let go.

"Come for me," she told him, her own voice thick with need and her hand now holding his right one against her under her dress, moving it for him so he wouldn't have to. "Now, Bucky, come for me."

And with a groan that was so loud and so rough that it made her nearly fall apart herself, he did as she told him to. He held her incredibly tightly and lost his mind so openly and loudly, and she thought that it was absolutely beautiful. He came down from his high breathing like he'd run not one but two marathons, still clutching her like an anchor with his face buried in her neck. She gave him a minute to return to earth, then turned around in his arms and cupped his face with one hand as he opened his heavy eyes to look upon her.

He stared at her like she was a goddess and he was just a lowly servant, privileged to stand in her presence, and she smiled and traced his lower lip with her thumb. On her phone a different song was playing now, and she didn't bother to change it or turn it off. The current playlist fit the mood.

"See?" she said softly, kissing his lips and then pulling back and smirking. "I knew you'd like my idea."

He was wrecked. His hair was a mess, his cheeks were flushed and he _looked_ like he was wrecked, and she wondered if this was how _she_ looked whenever he spent a night dedicated to driving her insane.

He also appeared to be speechless, _again_. That was okay. She knew what she wanted to do next.

She gently steered him towards the bed, unbuttoning his shirt the rest of the way there. She took it off of him halfway to their destination, and after a pointed look at his left arm, he blinked and then looked down as he disabled the hologram making it look like a normal arm. Once the metal that she knew and loved was no longer hidden from her sight, she began working on getting his pants off, maintaining eye contact with him all the while.

When everything was off and he was fully naked, she pushed him down to sit on the bottom edge of the bed. Then she took a step back and slowly, as if to give him a brief little show, began taking off her own clothes.

He watched greedily, sitting there with his eyes wide open and hands in fists on the bed, watching every last inch of her skin be revealed to his eyes. Summer soaked up the desire pouring off of him, knowing exactly what she wanted to do next, but then he surprised her and nearly threw off her plans.

He moved off the bed and went straight down to his knees in front of her, looking up at her with dark eyes and lips that were a little red from both how swollen they were and from her lipstick rubbing off, and his expression was one of _pleading_. He was begging her with his eyes, making her heart stutter and leap in her chest just before he leaned in and pressed a small kiss to her inner thigh, just above her knee. Her hand went to his hair and his eyes stayed locked on hers as he slowly and hotly kissed his way up, up, _up_...

But she stopped him before he could kiss her _there_.

She pushed him back by his shoulders, then said, "Up. Get up on the bed. Now."

He obeyed at breakneck speed, scrambling back up to sit on the bed while she advanced on him. He reached out to her once she was close enough, expecting her to sit on his lap, but instead she took his shoulders and roughly shoved him down on the bed. Then she climbed on him and made her way up his body, and as soon as he realized what she intended, he grabbed her legs and her hips to bring her closer faster, like he couldn't get her on his face quick enough. Once he'd gotten her there, he yanked her down and put his mouth on her with a rough, satisfied groan, like he was starving and had just been granted a feast.

It was heaven. Summer was so wound up from everything they'd done since the restaurant that she was just about ready to burst from the first touch of his tongue, and neither of them tried to drag it out or make it last longer than was necessary. He let her control the pace and she rode his face with reckless abandon, head thrown back and legs shaking and one of her hands teasing her own breast, no inhibitions left to hold her back.

It ended spectacularly, with her calling his name as mindlessly as he had called hers before, not bothering to try to be quiet or keep her voice down as the pleasure overcame her. It was perfect, and as soon as she stopped trembling, Bucky helped to move her down to the bed, where she laid loose and contentedly underneath him.

He kissed her softly but intensely during those quiet moments, the growing hardness on her thigh a clue that he was nearly ready to go again, but it turned out that he wasn't nearly done with her yet. He stayed where he was on top of her, his tongue tangling with hers as his right hand slipped down between her legs and, in only minutes, had her crying out in pleasure again. Then he switched to his left hand and did it _again_, and before she could catch her breath after that time, he slid down and used his mouth in addition to those vibrating fingers to make her nearly faint from the onslaught of unending stimulation.

She wouldn't have been surprised if someone had called the cops due to the sort of sounds coming from their room, but luckily, nothing of the sort happened.

By the time that he was done with her, she couldn't see straight and she felt like a filthy mess, in the very best of ways. He laid down next to her, trying to catch his own breath after so exerting himself, and she turned her head and looked at him, unable to stop herself from smiling and giggling breathlessly. He smiled right back, biting his lip and still looking at her like he wasn't even close to being finished with her yet. That was fine with her. The night was still young, after all.

"Getting sleepy on me?" he asked, turning on his side and placing his right hand on her belly. His fingers traced little patterns on her skin as she grinned at him and shook her head.

"No. Just... taking a minute to breathe," she sighed. She touched his face, running her thumb over the stubble on his jaw, and she said a bit dreamily, "You are just so... _so_... pretty."

He grinned, trailing his fingers up and between her breasts, towards her neck. "Think so?"

"No, I know so," she replied as his fingers drifted back down, softly and almost absentmindedly playing with her breast. His hair was falling into his face, so she started helpfully brushing it back behind his ears as she went on. "I kinda feel like I don't tell you enough how sexy you are. Like... you shower me with compliments every day, but I don't think I do that for you nearly enough."

"Trust me," he grinned, "I know that you think I'm sexy. Everybody knows that. The guy who checked us in at the front desk probably knows."

She gave his shoulder a mock smack, smiling. "But that's besides the point! I know you're more secure than I am, but it doesn't matter. You should know what I think."

"All right," he relented, giving her breast a little squeeze before leaving it be. "So tell me."

She smiled, biting her lip and wondering where she could even start. He had sung her praises so many times, telling her in great detail how perfect he thought she was and how much he adored every inch of her, and now it was her chance to finally do the same for him.

And so, she sat up and gently led him to do the same. Then she climbed into his lap, still smiling like an idiot, touching his by now-chaotic hair and smoothing it down as she took a deep breath.

He watched her and waited quietly with his arms around her. She finally started talking once she figured out where the hell to begin.

"Well... to start with, your _hair_," she grinned, still running her fingers through it. "I love it long like this. I love it short. I love it no matter what. I love how soft it is. I love touching it. I love when I pull it and you make that noise..."

To demonstrate, she gave his locks a little tug and he made a low almost purr-like noise from his throat. They both grinned, and then she let go of his hair and moved on to the next thing she wanted to wax poetic about. "Then there's your eyes. I _have_ told you before how much I love your eyes. They're so blue and full of life... and I remember when they weren't like that. Makes me never take it for granted to see you happy like this."

His expression sobered up just a little, but his smile remained and so did hers. She then playfully touched his nose with her fingertip, bringing some of the silliness back. "You've got a pretty good nose. Which is good, because I'm pretty sure Adelaide has your nose."

"I think so too," he chuckled.

She chuckled and then ran her thumbs along his cheekbones. "You've also got the bone structure of a model. Did you know that?"

He shrugged, amused. "I think Maya told me that once, actually."

"Well, she was right," Summer smiled. "And your jaw. I have an unhealthy fetish for it."

"Fetish?" he repeated, eyebrow quirked.

She nodded, her cheeks turning just the slightest pink. "When you do that thing where I'm talking to you and you look at me and clench your jaw, my mind automatically gets _really_ dirty."

He grinned at her a little crookedly, remarking, "I'll have to keep that in mind "

"Mmhmm," she mused, tracing her thumb over his lips now. "But these... your lips... and your mouth... God, I could write a book about your mouth. The shape of your lips is just... it's perfect. Sometimes I still can't believe I get to kiss them whenever I want to." He grinned at that, one of his happy smiles, and then she added, "And of course, your tongue... you and I both know how talented that is. In more ways than one."

"Yeah," he agreed, since really there was no arguing that point. He knew full well how good he was, and he was rather proud of it.

"Then there's your chin," she went on, her expression becoming a bit more silly. She smiled and tapped it with her thumb, then said, "It's really, really cute. Not everyone can pull this off, you know. But you do." She then pressed a kiss to it, and it made him smile and let out a light, carefree sort of laugh.

She laughed with him, and then her hands ended up on his shoulders. She looked at her hands, resting on one flesh and blood shoulder and one made almost entirely of metal, and she decided to go for the arms next. "I love your arms. I love this arm," she said, her left hand running down his right arm, "and I love this one, too." She slid her fingers down the cool, familiar metal of his left arm. "I loved it before Tony fixed it and made it vibrate, you know. I loved it way before that."

"I know," he replied quietly.

"No, really, I did," she said, making sure she left no room for doubt. "Back when we had our first date and then I had to go home and be away from you for awhile... I would think about you and think about this hand," she said, holding his metal hand in both of hers. "I'd pretend my fingers were these instead, and I'd touch myself imagining it was you doing it to me."

First he blinked in surprise, still incredibly not used to her speaking so bluntly. Then his gaze upon her grew darker, less frivolous and more heated, and she grinned before she pressed a kiss to each of his metal fingers. "I love how strong it is. It shows how strong _you_ are that you've taken what bad people meant for evil and used it for good instead." She paused, setting the hand down. "And like I said, it's really hot."

His grin widened again, and then it was time to move on to a different part of him once more. For this, she pushed him down on the huge pile of pillows at the top of the bed, so that he was lying back and she could more easily explore his chest.

"I think it goes without saying what I think of all of _this_," she said, holding herself up with her palms on his chest. "But I'll say it anyway. You're _perfect_. I love how hard and built you are, and I'm really jealous that you can eat like five thousand calories a day and still look like this." When he chuckled, she smiled with him and then added, "I'd love you and I'd still want you no matter what your body looked like, but... you're just... you're a specimen."

He definitely didn't argue with her, instead grinning at her assessment and then watching intently as she leaned down and started kissing down his chest, towards his stomach. She licked along his muscles, tongue dipping between them and on top of them, and then she peeked up at him and grinned, "You taste really good, too."

She could tell that he was liking where this was going, and that he thought he knew where she'd go next, but he was wrong. She shifted her attention to his legs next.

"You have like... some of the best legs I've ever seen on a man," she said, shifting down so that she could reach them with her hands. She gripped his thighs and then raved, "And your _thighs_. I mean, I know that you could kill me with them if you wanted to, but really that just makes them even better. And when you're in your uniform, _oh my God_."

"You _have_ been holding a lot back," he observed, a little surprised by her glowing review.

"I told you I was," she said, slowly making her way back up. She put her hands down next to his head, hovering over him, and he reached up and tucked her hair behind her ear before making another observation.

"I think you missed something."

She feigned confusion. "Did I?"

"I think so," he grinned. "Something else you seem to like a lot, too."

"Hmm... no, I'm pretty sure that I got everything. Well, except for your back and your ass, since... kinda hard for me to reach them in our current position. But I love those too. So _firm_."

"Still not what I was talking about," he said just before she leaned down and kissed him.

She let the kiss linger, her tongue teasing his as his hands made themselves at home on her body. The coolness of his metal hand sliding up her back sent a shiver down her spine, and she broke away pretending to still contemplate what she'd missed. "Hmm... oh, I've got it. Your brain. I _love_ your mind. So brilliant and... filthy."

He rolled his eyes and grinned. "... Not quite."

He leaned up and kissed her neck, and she bit her lip and wondered how long she could keep the teasing up. She knew she wouldn't last long when he said, "You like the taste of _it_, too."

"Your mouth? I already covered that," she grinned as he pulled away, and then she squeaked a little as he sat up and put her back in his lap.

"Come on," he nudged her in between laying soft, open mouthed kisses on her lips. "I wanna hear it."

"Hear what?"

He growled and kissed her again, and even as she smiled against his lips, things started to get heated again. Their kisses grew longer and deeper, and the thing that she refused to name was impossible to ignore as he held her close and pushed up against her. She wanted him, needed him, and yet she wasn't quite done shocking him speechless. She knew just how to ask for what she wanted.

"Fuck me, baby," she whispered into his ear, all breathy and lusty and completely unlike her normal outward self.

He turned her face towards his, staring at her with that dark and heated look of his, his eyes giving away how much her talking like that affected him. "You want it?"

"I need it," she replied, rubbing herself against him, pressing her breasts to his chest. "Come on, don't make me wait."

"I won't," he assured her. "Tell me what you need."

"I need you," she said, just before she kissed him again, all heat and a little bit of sloppiness, just enough to express her need. "And I don't want you to hold back. Tear me apart like you promised me you would."

He smirked, his entire face awash in his desire for her, but he wasn't giving in that easily. Maybe it was because he knew that this night was a bit of a one time only deal, and he wanted to make the very most of it. Maybe that was what led him to give her a heavy-lidded look and dare her, "Convince me."

Any other night, she would have clammed up and shied away, scampering back into her comfort zone until he dragged her out of it. That night, she found that she was more than up to the challenge.

"Convince you," she repeated, shifting in his lap so that could grind against him just enough to be a tease. "Convince you to throw me down and fuck me till I scream?"

She kissed where his jaw met his ear, and he groaned and muttered, "God, your fucking dirty mouth, Summer..."

She grinned against his skin. "It can get dirtier. And so can I." She kissed him again, then trailed her lips back to his so that she could look him dead in the eye as she said, "I'll get down on my knees and beg you for your cock if you want me to."

_That_ was what did it. With just one sentence, Summer officially and irrevocably broke her husband's brain.

She'd made him blush before only a handful of times, but this time, his face and most of his neck and even part of his chest went up in flames. His mouth fell open and his eyes gave away how shocked and mind-meltingly turned on he was, and she decided to top it all off with her best and most innocent smile.

He was so hot, in fact, that even his metal arm seemed to be in danger of overheating. It started making noises that were impossible to ignore, many more than usual, and it was reminiscent of an overheating computer.

He was useless and speechless for a few extremely satisfying moments. But then, once he seemed to get a hold of himself once more - at least as much as he _could_ \- he licked his lips and then said rather roughly, "You're being _very_ bad tonight."

Her innocent smile dropped off of her face and, in its place, her eyes widened and her lower lip pouted just enough to be falsely innocent but not ridiculous. "Am I?"

"I should punish you," he mused, eyes flashing up and down her body, unknown and surely filthy thoughts passing through his mind. "That's what you want, isn't it?"

She bit her lip. "... Yes."

"Yes what?"

Inside, she squealed with joy. "Yes sir."

His jaw then set and he allowed a side of him that she utterly _adored_ to take over. "On your hands and knees. Now."

She hopped off of his lap and did as he said, poorly concealing her glee. This was perfect. This was exactly what she wanted, and it begged the question - just exactly _whose_ birthday was this, anyway?

She settled in the middle of the bed, her hair falling in dark curtains around her face as she turned her head around to peek behind her. He was right there, just inches away, his eyes taking in all that she had to offer him, and for once she wasn't the least bit embarrassed about it. There was no need to be when he looked at her like _that_, like she was the embodiment of sex and everything that made it worth having.

His hand, the right one, started out on the back of her leg and slowly began working its way up as he began to speak. "First you give me that book in the middle of the fucking restaurant, when you knew exactly what it would do to me. Then you tease me under the table in front of that waiter and act all innocent about it."

"Well, I -"

He squeezed the back of her thigh just hard enough to hurt. "No talking."

She obeyed silently, secretly savoring the slight ache that his hand left behind.

"_Then_ you dragged me outside and into the alley and fucking sucked me off where anyone could have caught us. Somebody probably _did_ see us and just kept walking."

... Was it wrong of her to find that possibility just a little bit... well... not completely horrible? And _oh_, the vulgar way that he was talking had her nearly breaking his rule in order to beg him for more.

"Then we come here and you decide to dance _really_ dirty on me and get me so worked up that I came in my pants like a fucking teenager," he went on, his right hand fingertips sliding up from the base of her spine all the way to her neck. Then he grasped a handful of her hair and yanked it, pulling her upright and flush against him.

She gasped in pure pleasure, thoroughly enjoying the rough handling, and it only got better when he then said directly into her ear, "Then you sit here in bed telling me how much I turn you on and how you used to fuck yourself imagining my fingers. But that's not enough for you is it? No... because then you start running that dirty mouth of yours and saying words I've only _imagined_ you saying before."

She tried hard not to smile proudly at his words, but it was nearly impossible. Not only that, but he was scrambling her brain with his words and how tightly he was pressed to her from behind, all while his right hand kept rubbing up and down a part of her that she was _praying_ he was about slap.

"So, after all of that... I think you definitely deserve this."

_Smack_. Summer gasped and cried out at the shock of him _actually_ and legitimately _spanking_ her. She had never thought that he'd actually do it, out of fear of going too far or truly hurting her, but she'd never been more happy to be wrong.

His left arm wrapped around her waist, holding her up as his other soothed over her skin where he'd struck it. His lips kissed her neck, and she wasn't entirely aware of how she wiggled back against him a little bit, all but begging for more.

"You want more, huh," he said, reading her mind. "Dirty little tease."

Then he slapped her again, twice in a row and just a hair harder than before. This time her resulting cry was more of a moan, and Bucky lost all pretense of trying to "punish" her or scold her.

"God, you're so fucking perfect," he gushed against her ear, right hand leaving her reddening flesh to snake around and slip his fingers between her thighs. "You're soaked. You _love_ this, don't you?"

"Yes, sir," she breathed, just before his fingers left her to spank her again. This time she moaned even more loudly than before, and he lost his patience and pushed her back down on the bed, on her hands and knees once more.

Then he made good on his promise to tear her apart.

He was rougher than he'd ever been with her before, and she loved every last bit of it. He took her hard and fast and unforgivingly, but he wasn't careless and the entire time he was in full control of his every movement. It was a testament to both his self-control and just how crazy she had driven him over the course of their long, blissful night together.

Eventually he pulled her back upright and she tried to grab the bed's headboard for support, but she missed and knocked off the lamp on the bedside table. It hit the floor and shattered, and they both laughed at the mishap before getting back at it. She hung on to the headboard and let him have his way with her, listening to the wood rattle against the wall behind the bed and Bucky groaning into her ear before he abruptly tore himself away, grabbing her and tossed her down on her back.

It went on and on, his stamina perhaps aided by his two _warmups_ from earlier, and by the time he finally could no longer hold out, the pillows and sheets were mostly ripped off of the bed and they were tangled up together down near the very bottom of the mattress. They were both completely worn out without a drop of energy left between them, and Summer was in a deep, almost hypnotic daze following what she would forever remember as one of the most incredible nights of her life.

As they laid there, both suddenly on the verge of a mutual coma, Summer turned her head and looked at him to find him staring up at nothing with a satisfied, lazy hint of a smile on his face. He turned and met her gaze when he sensed it, and then they both grinned and snuggled up closer to each other.

Summer managed to get the sole surviving sheet up and mostly over them before she settled down in his arms, dropping a kiss just under his collarbone before she peeked up at him and said, "Happy birthday."

He chuckled, and it was a low rumble in his chest that she could feel against her cheek. "Thank you. Your gifts get better every year."

"Yeah... figuring out next year's gonna be pretty tough," she admitted, not even wanting to _think_ about that. "But I'm glad you liked everything. And _damn_ I like this potion."

His eyes were closed and he was mere seconds from drifting off, but he still managed to reply, "Yeah, I really owe Thor big time..."

She giggled softly again, closing her eyes just once. "I love you."

His voice was a sleepy, half-conscious mutter. "Love you too, babydoll."

Her eyes popped open and she smiled happily to herself as he began to snore ever so softly. That was a new term of endearment - or perhaps an old one, back from his old life - and it warmed her from the inside out as she closed her eyes and let herself finally drift to sleep.

They ended up sleeping for eleven hours straight, but nobody held it against them. After all, it _had_ been one hell of a day.

* * *

When Summer finally managed to wake up just before noon the following day, she momentarily could not remember for the life of her where she was.

Her back hurt. Her legs hurt. Her... well, _everything_ was pretty achy, if she was being honest. She felt like she was waking up from a coma, and the weirdest part was... she was on the floor. And so was the bed's comforter and most of the sheets, all of which she was bundled up with.

Turning her head to the side - which also hurt a little - she looked at the bed, which she was only inches away from, and saw Bucky's metal arm dangling off the edge, his fingertips nearly grazing her own arm.

With some difficulty, Summer sat up slowly and then peered at the bed, trying to get a glimpse of the rest of Bucky. Once she got that glimpse, she smiled a little to herself and felt herself blush under an onslaught of memories from the night before.

Bucky was laying on his front with his feet up by the pillows and his head down at the foot of the bed, his face mostly covered by his hair and his body barely covered at all. One sheet that was still partially on the bed covered part of one of his legs and not much else, and Summer bit her lip as she enjoyed the sight and let her mind drift in memory of how amazing their big night out had been.

That was until she looked at the clock on the bedside table and then let her jaw hit the floor. _They'd slept until noon?!_

She bounded up and off of the floor, intending to make a run for her phone which was still across the room on the entertainment dock, but her legs tangled in the sheets on the floor and she ended up tripping and falling loudly enough to wake Bucky up. He sprang up the minute the sound of her squeaking and cursing many _fricks_ hit his ears, and he bewilderedly looked around muttering, "Summer? _Summer_?"

"Down here," she muttered miserably from the floor. Their eyes met when he peered over the edge of the bed to look at her, and a confused smile spread across his sleepy face.

"Why are you down there?"

"I guess I rolled off the bed in my sleep," she shrugged, trying to get back up. "And I just panicked because it's noon and we should have been home three hours ago."

"It's noon?" he repeated as she got back to her feet, trying to cover herself with the sheet. "Damn."

"I know," she sighed, trying to rush to her phone one more time. "I need to call Nat and check on the kids and - hey!"

Bucky chuckled, having just reached out and grabbed an end of the sheet and unraveled it from her body entirely. "Sorry. Couldn't help myself."

She huffed, mainly because she was cold and she hadn't been wearing the sheet just for the hell of it, but rather than stay and try to battle him for it, she hurried up and grabbed her phone. She started to panic again when she saw two missed calls, one from Natasha and one from Steve, but her worries were eased when she saw the text Nat had sent just after her missed call.

_Everyone's fine, just making sure you guys are all right. No rush in getting back_.

Summer sighed with relief and then trudged back to the bed and collapsed in it next to Bucky. He quickly grabbed her and tucked her against his side, kissing the side of her head as Summer pulled up a photo Natasha had sent her of Adelaide sleeping on Steve's chest the night before. Steve looked quite happy in the picture, smiling and sitting on the couch while David played a game next to him.

"Looks like they had fun," Bucky observed as Summer locked her phone and dropped it to the bed. He tugged her closer, nuzzling her neck as he added with a grin, "But not as much as we had."

Summer felt herself blush again, her fingers trying to work through Bucky's wrecked hair as she asked quietly, "Did all of that really happen?"

He lifted his head, his nose grazing hers, and he nodded with a grin on his face like he was _still_ trying to recover. "Oh yeah. It happened. A _lot_ happened..."

"We did a lot of things," she said, a little wide-eyed. Then her face turned a deep scarlet. "And I... oh God. I _said_... things."

He made a low growling noise. "Yes you did."

She shrunk away and covered her face with her hands. "Oh my God, I'm gonna die."

He chuckled at her humiliation and gently pulled her hands away. "Oh come on... I loved it. It was sexy. _Everything_ was sexy. The book, the way you were all night, the way you talked... didn't think I'd get all that in my wildest dreams."

"Really?" she asked, peeking up at him shyly, cheeks still aflame.

"Hell yeah," he grinned. "Don't be embarrassed. I'm the luckiest bastard alive."

Her eyebrows shot up and she giggled, biting her lip and burying her face in his right shoulder. "I probably sounded so stupid, though."

"No," he insisted, playing with her hair and brushing it out of her face. "You sounded... incredible. And now I know what you're _really_ like in that head of yours."

She cracked open one eye and looked at him cautiously. "... Yeah. I'm a dirty-talking little slut."

He grinned, blue eyes flashing in amusement. "A dirty-talking little slut for _me_."

She groaned and he silenced her with a kiss that they both smiled into, and afterwards they smiled at each other and shared a little laugh before kissing again. This continued until their kisses grew a little deeper and their bodies got a little closer, Bucky only breaking away when he softly groped her breast to find it as hard as a rock.

"Holy... what the hell?" he said, touching it softly and finding it unyielding.

"I haven't pumped or fed Adelaide since like... five yesterday," she groaned. "I'm gonna explode. Actually, I'm gonna need to squeeze some milk out so I don't get a clog."

He nodded understandingly, then asked a bit mischievously, "Need some help getting things... started?"

She gave him a look and then starting laughing. "No, but... a hot shower helps, so... wanna help with that?"

He groaned softly in approval and then kissed her one more time before all but jumping out of bed, heading straight to the bathroom to get the water started. Summer grinned and _thoroughly_ enjoyed the view.

"Pretty energetic for a 101-year old," she said cheekily as he opened the door to the bathroom.

He glanced over his shoulder and gripped the doorknob, turning around to give her a very _full_ eyeful that didn't go unappreciated. "Get in here and I'll prove it."

He then disappeared with a little smirk, and Summer smiled blissfully as she listened to the shower turn on. She closed her eyes and sighed, her smile lingering as she once again wondered how the hell she'd gotten so damn lucky to have this man fall into her life.

"Hurry up!" his voice called from the bathroom. "I'm old, I might need a nap soon!"

She laughed again and dragged herself off of the bed. _Oh yeah_. If he was the luckiest bastard alive, then she was the luckiest human being alive, period, and she wouldn't let anyone tell her otherwise.


	51. Chapter 51

**A/N: I was really excited for this chapter so I wrote it pretty quickly and decided to go ahead and post it though it hasn't been a full week yet since the last update :D thank you guys so much for your reviews and support (especially for the last chapter, which I was so nervous about :D) and a HUGE thanks to midnightwings96 for helping me revise this chapter and just being too awesome for words to adequately describe. I look forward to hearing from you guys, and the next update may take a bit longer since this week is gonna be busy for me, but in any case I love you all and shall see you again in a week or so :D**

A little less than three months later, one of Summer's greatest and long-developing labors of love at last came to completion. Only a few months short of her 30th birthday. Summer became an officially published author.

When the novel about two troubled lovers meeting and falling for each other on a farm hit the bookshelves in its final edited form, Summer kept her expectations of sales and critical reception as low as possible to avoid disappointment. After all, it was her first published work and just because her friends liked the book, it didn't mean that anyone else would. And for that matter, maybe all of her blog followers wouldn't bother to pick up the book either.

And so, when the book's sales during the first two weeks were modestly good and the first handful of reviews were mostly positive, she just about had a heart attack. Her cautious optimism exploded into pure glee, and she at last allowed herself to screech and run around her house nearly screaming with joy and acknowledge that she was, in fact, not a complete failure as a writer. And one of the best parts of the whole experience was how readers gave her feedback directly to her on her blog.

In the midst of all of this, Summer got to apply her day job skills as an event planner to something a little more fun than usual. Halloween was rolling around, and Summer threw together a party just for the Avengers and their inner circle. She was excited not only because it would be her first time dressing up with Bucky, but it was also one of those very rare parties that he could actually accompany her to, since it would be completely secure and risk free for him to show up and mingle.

When the day came, Summer and the whole family left their home for the tower early and got into their costumes there. For the kids, picking costumes had been easy - David had decided well in advance that he wanted to be a ninja, since ninjas and all ninja-related things were his new obsession, and then Adelaide was a pretty pink princess. Lest anyone think that Summer was pushing the overload of girliness on an innocent baby, she had showed Adelaide a number of different costumes including a kitty cat, a pumpkin, and a ballerina, and the child had showed overwhelming favor for the puffy pink dress and sparkly crown that the princess costume consisted of.

Summer and Bucky, meanwhile, chose matching outfits for themselves. She expected to be the one doing all the choosing, but as it turned out, Bucky had vehemently insisted on a particular pair of costumes when he'd seen a photo the one that she'd be wearing. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out why.

And that was how they ended up in the bathroom of their old room at the tower while the kids played in the bedroom on the other side of the open door. Bucky was sitting and Summer was standing in front of him, meticulously applying eyeliner to his already-stunning eyes. Or at least she was trying to.

"I said look _up_!" Summer exclaimed in frustration. "Stop staring at my boobs and let me finish your damn makeup!"

"I'm sorry," Bucky sighed in equal frustration, looking up towards the ceiling obediently. "But you can't blame me when you're wearing that corset and putting them in my face."

"It's not my fault they're huge and popping out," she shrugged, carefully lining the lower lid of his left eye. "Besides, the corset's what made you insist on these costumes."

He grinned. "Well, I mean... that and the boots."

She rolled her eyes though she couldn't help but smile as well, putting the finishing touches on his eyeliner. "Okay. Done."

Bucky blinked a few times, not having particularly enjoyed having his eyes nearly stabbed with the pencil, then stood up and, along with Summer, looked in the mirror. His lips split into a grin, and after he examined his eyes, he slid an arm around Summer's waist and said, "We look pretty good like this."

"Yup," she agreed, catching his eyes as they again dropped to her chest in the mirror. "Hottest damn pirates on all the seven seas."

He chuckled and then shifted behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and murmuring in her ear, "I bet if I play my cards right, I could inspire you to write a pirate novel next."

"Don't you dare," she said with slightly wide eyes, and he merely chuckled before kissing her neck and making her giggle as well.

Having chosen to go as a pair of sexy pirates, Bucky was decked out all in leather and his aforementioned eyeliner, plus his hair was still long and fit the part rather well. His leather pants were _very_ tight and the costume shamelessly showed off quite a bit more of his chest than he was used to, but it at least made things a _little_ more even for Summer, what with the corset situation. She couldn't really breathe but she looked fantastic, in leather pants even tighter than Bucky's and leather boots with sky-high heels. Beneath her underbust corset was a big puffy white shirt, and she wore a big chunky skull necklace that was quite fitting with matching dangly earring. Last but not least, her hair was a nearly black, wild, curly and teased mane that she was very proud of.

They really were a couple of hot pirates.

"But I bet you could make it work," Bucky told her, eyeing her in the mirror. "I'm the captain of a pirate ship and you're a... hmm... what would you be?"

She raised her eyebrows and said, "Trophy wife of some horrible rich old man I'm sailing with, and you kidnap me and hold me for ransom but we end up having super hot pirate-y sex in your quarters? Then I sail away with you into the sunset after I help you rob the gross old man blind?"

He raised an eyebrow and said, "See? You could write the hell out of that."

"Maybe," she conceded, "but I've been thinking about what to write next, actually, and..."

"And what?"

"Well, I was thinking maybe..." She paused for effect and then said, "Russian mafia."

Bucky raised his eyebrows and chuckled with surprise. "Russian mafia?"

She smiled and nodded excitedly. "Yup."

"Like a crime thriller?"

"Sort of," she nodded, then added contemplatively, "But with a lot of super hot banging between people who look suspiciously like us."

He chuckled and pressed a little kiss to her temple. "Sounds pretty intriguing."

"Oh yeah. Or maybe it's just an excuse to write you speaking Russian and being all badass and murder-y but like so hot at the same time that the pages will melt."

He scoffed. "Like I have to be a mobster for _that_ to happen."

Summer rolled her eyes again and wriggled away from his arms. "Okay, we really have to get going, so... oh wait! I almost forgot." She grabbed her makeup bag and started digging in one of the compartments, then whirled around and happily held up a black, modestly dangly clip-on earring. "Your look isn't complete until the earring goes on."

He made a slight face but let her clip the earring on to his right ear lobe anyway, and once it was secure, Summer smiled and clapped her hands. "There! My _God_, you make a sexy pirate."

"You make a sexier one," he muttered before leaning in closer and stealing a kiss from her. She giggled and kissed him back, just starting to get into it when a tiny pink princess came toddling in the door and came barreling directly at their legs.

Now eleven months old, Adelaide had been walking for a few months and was starting to look like a toddler, to both Summer and Bucky's dismay. She was taller and not quite as fat as before but still pretty chubby, and still at peak development on all fronts like she had been since birth. And just as they had anticipated, she was utterly and undeniably _beautiful_. She was the death of adoring old ladies everywhere that she went.

"Addie!" Summer exclaimed happily before reaching down and scooping the little girl up. Clint's nickname for Adelaide had definitely stuck.

"Mama!" Adelaide cooed back, and Summer responded with a smile and a squeeze while Bucky looked on and sighed.

"Come on," he said, rubbing Adelaide's back and making her glance back at him over her little shoulder. She eyed him strangely for a moment, noticing the eyeliner and messier than usual hair. "Can't you just give me _one little_ Dada? Just one!"

Adelaide smiled at him and then hugged Summer tighter, chanting "_Mama mama mama_" like a mantra. Summer smiled and shrugged at Bucky, who rolled his eyes and then grabbed Adelaide out of Summer's arms. He gave her a kiss on her chubby little cheek and then strolled out of the room saying, "All right, Pumpkin. Let's have a short little lesson on first words, okay?"

Summer smiled as Bucky and Adelaide disappeared from her sight. At the very same moment, there was a sudden blast of black right before Summer's eyes, and ninja-David leapt in front of her from out of nowhere. She jumped back and screeched, then held a hand to her heaving chest as she tried to catch her breath. "Oh my God, David, you scared the living crap out of me."

His response was taking his fake katana and swooshing it around dramatically before poking Summer's very pushed-up boobs with it. Summer narrowed her eyes at him and then sighed as he continued poking, finding it more and more hilarious the more she rolled her eyes.

"Okay, that's enough poking," she said, batting the sword away. "I realize that I look ridiculous to you and that popping balloons is one of your favorite things to do, but these aren't actually balloons."

David then withdrew the katana and turned around, going back to battling imaginary foes as Summer headed out of the bedroom. Now that they were ready, it was time to put the finishing touches on the party and double check that everything was done. Everyone would soon be arriving, and Summer didn't want to disappoint. She also had a few helpers to help make sure that everything was on point.

"Esteban," Summer called as she made her way out to the main area, "how's everything coming along?"

He popped up from under the bar, two bottles of alcohol in hand as he asked, "How drunk do you want the punch?"

Summer paused and then replied, "Well, you're the one who insisted on making your 'famous punch', so I'd say make it as drunk as you want. Doesn't matter to me since I'm not drinking tonight."

"Ah," Esteban nodded before grinning and pouring a hefty amount of both bottles into the glass punch bowl in front of him. "Then leave it to me."

Summer made a face as she examined the contents of the bowl, asking, "Is it actually punch or is it... just... alcohol poisoning in a bowl?"

Esteban looked up at her sharply and said, "It's family recipe, and my Grandma Rosita would slap you for saying such a thing."

Summer grinned and said, "Well, good thing you're not Grandma Rosita. By the way, where's your costume?"

"I'm saving it for the last minute," he said, a sudden mischievous glint in his eye. "Nic and I chose a couple's theme too. You _especially_ will love it."

"Oooh, tell me!"

Esteban waggled his finger and reached for another bottle. "No. It's a surprise. By the way, I love the pirate look."

Summer smiled and stood up a little straighter, replying, "Yeah, I gotta say, aside from not being able to breathe, I do like this costume a lot. And have you seen Bucky yet? Oh my _God_..."

"Yes, he walked by a few minutes ago with your baby," Esteban nodded. "I whistled at him. He flipped me off, and then I asked 'where and when?' and he laughed."

As Summer laughed at the story, her phone dinged and she looked down at it and snapped back into business mode. Only fifteen minutes until party time.

The tower was decorated in all sorts of both cheesy and genuinely creepy things, silly ghosts and skeletons as well as well-placed vintage dolls and clown-related things because well, who didn't find _those_ things creepy as heck. The truly scary things were in a designated side and the silly stuff on another, which was where the kids would stay so that the really creepy stuff wouldn't scare them. There would also be music, of course, and Summer had no doubt that once everyone arrived, it would be a Halloween party for the ages.

And as it turned out, she wasn't wrong.

One by one, once the appointed time came, everyone began trickling in. First was Sam and Darcy, who arrived together hand in hand dressed as, respectively, an angel and a devil.

"Oh my God!" Summer laughed in amusement, holding Adelaide on her hip as she poked at the horns on Darcy's head and the halo above Sam's. "You guys are so cute! And wow, Darcy, your _boobs_."

Darcy, who was rocking the pint-size devil look with an appropriately skimpy red costume and matching red lips and black heels, replied, "No, not my boobs - _your_ boobs!"

Darcy then poked at said boobs, which made Adelaide giggle and start smacking them too, and Summer sighed and muttered, "I swear, it's poke-the-boobs night or something."

That was when Bucky showed up at Summer's side, drink in hand and a grimace on his face. Darcy gasped the moment she saw him and exclaimed, "_Oh_ my God, are you kidding me?"

Bucky ignored her and looked at Sam, then remarked, "Nice wings."

"Nice earring," Sam grinned back.

"Okay, so like later," Darcy said, "you guys should do some pirate roleplaying thing. Seriously."

"Don't give her any ideas," Bucky replied before taking another sip of his drink and grimacing again.

"What's wrong?" Summer asked.

"This 'punch' is the worst thing I've ever tasted," Bucky replied quietly. "I can't even finish it."

"Can't be that bad," Sam said before taking the cup from Bucky and taking a small sip. He immediately furrowed his brows and coughed as he forced the liquid down, and he handed back to Bucky as he groaned, "Oh _God_. You weren't kidding."

"Hey, where's David?" Darcy asked, looking around. "I haven't seen him yet."

"Oh, you wouldn't have," Summer shrugged.

"Why not?"

As if on cue, David leapt between the two couples out of nowhere, again brandishing the toy katana and making Darcy yelp and jump back in surprise.

Summer grinned and replied, "Because he's a ninja."

Next to arrive soon after were Steve and Natasha, also hand in hand, and, as Bucky was the first to loudly point out, not even in real costumes.

"What the hell," he exclaimed, gesturing to Natasha's sexy black dress and Steve's matching black suit. "Those aren't costumes!"

"Yes they are," Steve replied, looking at Bucky's pirate costume in great amusement. "Hey, I like the eyeliner."

"How are they costumes?" Bucky asked, ignoring the eyeliner comment.

"We're Mr. And Mrs. Smith," Natasha explained. Bucky rolled his eyes just as Adelaide went scampering by, Summer following behind her but pausing once she saw the newest arrivals.

"Hey! You guys look good! Let me guess... um... uh... super sexy President and First Lady?"

"Mr. and Mrs. Smith," Bucky rolled his eyes again, replying for the other couple.

"Oh!" Summer grinned. "Nice!"

"Wow, I love the pirate theme," Natasha grinned, checking them both out. "And _wow_. Your b-"

"Boobs, I know," Summer sighed, stepping closer to Natasha. "Go ahead, poke them."

Natasha shrugged and then took up her offer, and Steve watched with slightly furrowed brows. Bucky watched too, though he was much more laid back about it. Natasha lifted her eyebrows and said appreciatively, "Wow. You know, people say breastfeeding ruins them, but I think yours have gotten even better."

"Oh yeah! Squeeze it, feel how firm they are," Summer said. Steve nearly had a heart attack, but Bucky just watched even more closely, not at all objecting to what was happening.

And that was how Clint found them, dressed up like Robin Hood with his own bow and arrow as props, and not even an inch of surprise on his face. "Well. Seems about right."

Natasha dropped her hand and Summer looked up, breaking out into a smile and running up to Clint to give him a big hug. Natasha glanced at Steve to find him still looking vaguely like he might have a stroke, and she rolled her eyes and elbowed him in the ribs while Bucky chuckled at his expense.

"I didn't know for sure if you were coming," Summer said after pulling away from the hug. "And nice costume."

Clint shrugged and said, "It was either this or Legolas, but I didn't feel like wearing the wig." Then he looked at Steve and Nat and said, "Why aren't you two in costumes?"

"See?" Bucky gestured, as if he'd been vindicated.

Natasha rolled her eyes again and sighed, "We're Mr. and Mrs. Smith. How is nobody getting this?"

Clint scoffed. "Oh please. That's not a real costume."

"Exactly!" Bucky nodded in intense agreement.

Adelaide then came running by again, only this time she ran right into Steve's legs and started babbling excitedly and holding out her arms for him to pick her up. He smiled hugely and scooped her up right away, and she giggled as he raved over how pretty she was. Summer started snapping pictures on her phone, adding to her already-extensive collection of photos of the two of them being adorable together.

Just after Clint got settled in and the argument over what constituted real costumes continued, Tony arrived next. He stepped off of the elevator in an expensive suit, looking more red carpet-ready than anything, and Bucky and Clint both rolled their eyes and shook their heads. Tony just strolled towards them without blinking, complimenting Summer, "Hey, looks great in here, kid. Sorry I'm late. My costume took awhile to get right."

As Summer smiled and quietly thanked him, Clint shared a look with Bucky and asked, "_What_ costume?"

"Oh, you can't tell?" Tony asked. "Really? I thought it would be obvious." He looked around and waited for someone to guess, but when he had no takers, he said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, "I'm Robert Downey Jr."

"Who?" Bucky squinted.

"Actor," Summer helpfully informed him.

"Apparently there's a striking resemblance," Tony shrugged. "I don't really see it, but Rhodey said he's in talks to play me in a movie based on my life."

Steve choked on the drink of horrid punch he'd been taking. "They're making a movie about you?"

Tony flashed Steve a grin. "Jealous? But don't worry. If my movie's a hit, rumor is they'll make one about you next."

Steve, looking all kinds of confused, continued to stare at Tony until the group's attention was stolen by Esteban and Nicolo finally making it out of one of the rooms down the hall in their full costumes. Summer turned around to look first as they strutted in, and her jaw dropped as a huge smile appeared on her face.

Esteban was dressed up as Iron Man and Nicolo was Captain America. Both costumes were remarkably realistic, Esteban's all clunky and metal-y and complete with a helmet that the facial portion of was lifted up and over his head, and Nicolo's was appropriately skin-tight with a replica of the shield strapped to his back.

They were just beautiful, Summer thought.

"At least they're wearing actual costumes," Clint said as Darcy showed up next to him and handed him a cup of the questionable punch. He sniffed it and then took a sip, apparently not finding it so bad and taking another drink.

"You guys look great!" Summer raved, and Steve and Tony both eyed their costumed counterparts before glancing at each other, silently agreeing that they pulled off their suits better. _Duh_.

"I told you you'd love it," Esteban grinned. "And see? _Couple's theme_."

"Oh, you're right," Natasha grinned.

Steve rolled his eyes. "That's hilarious."

"Seems right to me," Bucky shrugged nonchalantly.

"Me too," Tony nodded. "I approve of this."

Esteban then gestured to his face and said, "See, I even shaved to look like you."

"Yeah, not bad," Tony said, inspecting his handiwork.

Nicolo glanced at Summer and said, "I wasn't sure about the spandex, but..."

"Oh, you totally pull it off," Summer assured him. Then she leaned in closer and whispered to him, "By the way, later on, you guys should totally start kissing whenever Steve's looking at you, just to make him super uncomfortable."

"Oh, that's already been planned," Nicolo assured her before they pulled away from their conspiratorial huddle. Summer grinned at him, pleased, and then Nicolo said, "By the way, I started editing your family pictures earlier today. They're gorgeous."

Summer smiled excitedly. "Yay! I can't wait!"

"There's this one of all four of you, and it's so sweet - it's my favorite," Nicolo smiled, referencing the family photo shoot he'd done with the little family a week earlier. The photos had been taken at a park not far from their home outside of the city, and it had been a blast. Summer couldn't wait to see the finished product.

She was about to reply to Nicolo when she heard a quiet but startling "boo" behind her. She jumped and whirled around to find a ghost literally floating behind her, and it took her a few confusing seconds to realize that it was Vision covered with a long white sheet. Two eye holes were cut out in the fabric, and Summer broke into a smile as she exclaimed, "Oh my God, I love it! You're the best ghost I've ever seen!"

"Thank you," he replied, presumably smiling under the sheet. "Should I avoid your daughter? Would she be frightened?"

"Oh no," Summer smiled, shaking her head. "I think she'll just giggle. But thank you for asking first. That's very thoughtful of you."

"You are very welcome," he replied.

"Did you come up with being a ghost yourself?" Summer asked.

"No. It was Tony's idea," Vision replied. "He suggested it while he was explaining the holiday to me."

"Oh, makes sense," she smiled. Then she glanced across the room, where David had been lurking and waiting eagerly for Wanda's arrival. She had just showed up - dressed, appropriately, as a witch - and he was engaging her in mock battle alongside Adelaide who was also very happy to see her. Summer then turned back to Vision and said, "Hey, I think someone else could use a scare."

She then gestured to Wanda, and Vision glanced her way before quietly thanking Summer and floating off. Summer grinned and didn't budge from where she stood, crossing her arms and watching as Bucky came and stood next to her.

"Still trying to match those two up," he observed, sliding his arm around her waist.

"Heck yeah," she grinned back. "I'm the captain of this ship, and I'm telling you, it's sailing soon."

"If you say so," he replied, kissing her cheek as continued to watch the scene unfold.

As Vision silently and stealthily floated closer to Wanda, whose witch costume consisted of a short black and red dress and a big, sparkly and pointy black hat, Adelaide tackled her big brother to the floor with a huge burst of giggles. Wanda chucked at their antics, and then when Vision came to a stop just behind her and said _boo_, she jumped and spun around only to start laughing and give the sheet an affectionate little tug.

"See?" Summer said quietly. "It's so happening. It's not a question of if but when."

"Maybe," Bucky conceded. Then he glanced to his left and said, "Summer, look at Steve. Hurry."

Summer quickly shifted her gaze and slapped her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing. Esteban and Nicolo were taking selfies with Steve and Tony and, as promised, kissing and trying to make Steve uncomfortable. Normally it wouldn't really phase him, but since they were dressed up as his and Tony's alter egos, there was clear discomfort on Steve's face, and it only got worse when Tony gave him a big kiss on his cheek for one of the pictures.

"My other prediction," Summer pointed out as Bucky was thoroughly entertained by Steve's squirming, "is that those two are so gonna make out one day."

"I don't know about that one," Bucky replied as Steve wormed his way out of Tony's grip and headed to Sam's much safer side. "Maybe if Steve could get drunk, but..."

"He already kissed Tony once just to prove a point," Summed argued.

"He was playing Gay Chicken," Bucky explained as if that made it completely normal. "They didn't _actually_ kiss."

"Oh it totally still counts," Summer replied. "I mean, if _you_ were playing Gay Chicken and kissed a dude, that would count too."

"That's the difference between me and Steve," Bucky replied. "_I_ wouldn't play Gay Chicken because _I_ don't have weird sexual tension with Tony Stark."

Summer's eyes widened and she gasped, "So you admit there's weird sexual tension between them?"

Bucky sighed heavily and Summer continued to pester him as the party went on. Everyone was having a good time and most of them were managing to choke down Esteban's punch without giving away how difficult it was, and the kids were having a blast as well. Adelaide was on a mission to grab everything that she _shouldn't_, and every little tiny choke hazard on the entire floor ended up in at least one of her little fists once, but it was a successful team effort keeping her safe. One time it was Tony who plucked a loose button of all things from her hand, and she retaliated by giving him the evil eye, crying, and then running back to her daddy for comfort. Tony became convinced that he was _never_ gonna persuade the kid to like him.

Then, in the midst of the festivities, Summer got an alert on her phone regarding a new email from her agent. She opened it and found links to a few new reviews of her book, all of which she hurriedly read while sitting on the couch in between Bucky and Steve, who were arguing about _something_ with Tony and Natasha.

The first two reviews were pretty positive, their only critiques being things that Summer was already aware of thanks to her penchant for self-criticism. The third one, however, was her very first truly and utterly scathing review, and rather than really get to her, she found herself battling a case of the giggles.

"Bucky!" she said, patting his arm and getting his attention. "Listen to this review my book got. It's from some dude from a magazine I've never heard of. He says its 'Nicholas Sparks meets mommy porn, only distinguishable from the other hundreds of titles in its genre thanks to the lack of vampires or billionaire CEOs and the addition of goats and barns'." Then she paused and said, "Heh, barns. Like your name. And my name."

Bucky wasn't as amused. "What a dickhe-"

"Language!" Summer and Steve said in unison, both motioning towards Adelaide playing with David near their feet.

"What a... douchebag," Bucky amended, though Summer didn't necessarily want Adelaide repeating that either.

"Well, not all the reviews are gonna be winners," she shrugged. "I actually find it pretty funny. Nicholas Sparks meets mommy porn."

"What exactly is mommy porn?" Bucky asked, squinting.

Tony piped up from the other couch to reply, "Fifty Shades of Softcore Vanilla."

"You read Fifty Shades?" Natasha asked with amusement.

"Pepper got it and never read it," he shrugged. "It was sitting there by the bed one night and I was bored. Highly disappointing. I was under the impression there'd be weird stuff."

"What _kind_ of weird stuff were you hoping for?" Summer asked Tony in great curiosity.

Tony merely stared impressively blankly at her before changing the subject. "So, can I safely assume you'll be writing pirate smut next?"

"See?" Bucky said to Summer with a grin. "There's already demand for it."

About half an hour of similar conversations and the party moving right along, Summer had took a break to feed Adelaide and, to her surprise, the baby went down for a nap. She fell asleep right in the middle of the living room, on the end of one of the couches despite the music playing and loud voices surrounding her. She was out like a very pink, fluffy light, and after Summer left her there with plenty of eyes on her, she headed towards the bar to munch on some of the snacks and maybe even finally try the punch herself.

She decided against the punch after sniffing it. Instead, she was eyeing up the food she'd ordered from a cafe a couple blocks away, but before she could grab a single bite, there was suddenly a long-haired pirate embracing her from behind and tickling her with a kiss just under her ear.

"Holy crap, you scared me," she grinned, leaning into Bucky's hug and putting her hands over his. She leaned back so he could kiss her lips, and then she asked, "Having a good time?"

He nodded. "Yeah, but I was watching you walk over here and I started to wonder if I might be able to have a better time." He punctuated his statement by pushing his lower half against hers a little tiny bit, and he then said right into her ear, "_Your ass_ in these pants is incredible."

"Hey, simmer down there, Captain," she grinned, touching his jaw and the perfect amount of scruff that covered it.

"I don't want to," he replied, dropping his eyes down to her chest before bringing them back up. He then grinned and said, "What do you say we have Steve and Nat keep an eye on the kids and go in my old room and..."

"And?" she replied, raising an eyebrow and trying not to grin.

He then leaned in close and whispered a string of words so filthy into her ear that it was something even for him. He pulled away smirking and she stared at him with a bright blush engulfing her cheeks for all of two seconds before she grinned and nodded.

Bucky asked Steve to keep an eye on the kids with just a series of hand and head signals. He pointed at David and Adelaide and then back to Steve, then jerked his head towards Summer first and then the hallway. Steve gave the thumbs up, and just like that, Bucky was leading Summer away from the party and towards a room they had torn up together many, many times before.

The difference was, this time they were apparently doing it as pirates.

The sounds of the party were muffled through the door that Bucky slammed shut and then pushed Summer against once they were inside the room. His lips collided harshly with hers as his hand went to the light switch on the wall, flicking the light on as they kissed and tugged at each other's clothes frantically. There wasn't a lot of time and that was part of the thrill of it all, so neither of them minded the rough kisses or the way that they went from kissing to rapid foreplay in seconds.

There was no getting around Summer's corset or getting it even partially off, so Bucky's first order of business was getting her leather pants undone. The minute he got them peeled down her thighs just enough, his right hand was between her legs and making her lose her breath as they continued to fiercely kiss and claw at each other. He pushed her up harder against the door, breaking their kiss at last and panting softly as he watched her face, all heat and merciless touches as she clung to his hair with one hand and part of his costume with the other.

Her eyes were closed, mouth open and chest heaving up and down more and more quickly with each new flick of his fingers. He leaned in closer and started kissing her neck, doing everything he could to get her ready and needy as quickly as he could. Once he knew she was there and could feel it, he pulled his hand away and then took her hips in both hands, spinning her around and pressing her face-first to the door.

"Fuck, Summer," he groaned into her ear, hurriedly undoing his own pants as she ground back needily against him. "Think you can keep quiet?"

"Probably not," she admitted, both palms pressed flat against the door as she waited impatiently. "But they won't hear us over the music."

He smirked. "Sure about that?"

One thrust of his hips later, Summer let out a yelp and dug her nails against the door, unable to keep quiet in the least. The music and general noise _should_ have covered them, but neither of them cared about it much as things officially ramped up into overdrive.

Summer might have ended up finding inspiration to write a bit of a pirate story after all.

* * *

Amid quiet giggles and the sounds of clothes being fixed and put right again, Summer and Bucky managed to pull themselves together and get ready to rejoin the party after an impressively short amount of time. Normally getting things done quickly wasn't a lot to brag about, but in their case, being able to get things done fast was essential, what with having two little kids.

"Is my hair super messed up?" Summer asked, and Bucky grinned as he looked her over, straightening out his big pirate coat.

"Yeah, but... makes you look the part even more," he said, and Summer decided that the logic was sound enough.

"All right, well... we'd better get back out there," she said, looking down and checking to make sure she was completely covered again. "My boobs are still completely in the corset, right?"

He looked at them and nodded wistfully. "Unfortunately."

She grinned and then turned and opened the door, Bucky following close behind and making her giggle with how he reached out and tugged at her hair as they went. They were both all smiles until they reached the end of the hallway, which was when a Summer gasped and came to a sudden stop. Bucky smacked into her and nearly knocked her over as a result, but she stayed upright and held out her arm to keep him back.

"Bucky," she whisper-screamed, "_look_! Over there, in the kitchen behind the island!"

Bucky then peered around the corner with Summer, and together they both beheld the sight of Wanda and Vision having a rather cute moment in the kitchen.

Vision's makeshift costume had gotten all tangled and messed up over the course of the night, and after he accidentally half-collided with the refrigerator, Wanda laughed and came to his aid. He was on his feet now and she was standing on the tips of her toes, gathering up the sheet and straightening it out for him. Then she pulled it back over his head, so that she could see his face, and as their eyes met, he told her with his typical quiet sincerity, "Thank you."

"You're welcome," she replied, not bringing the fixed sheet back over his face just yet. Instead, with her little smile still on her face, she lingered and got a curious sort of glint in her green eyes. Then she leaned up just a little bit further, as far as her toes could take her, and she closed her eyes before placing a small but sweet little kiss on the "ghost's" lips.

Vision was, very understandingly, quite stunned by the kiss, and he stood there completely still, staring at Wanda even after she'd pulled the sheet back down, aligning the eye holes just right, and then walking away with her smile still on her face. He continued to stand there and watched her walk away, both of them unaware of their audience and of how incredibly excited one half of it was.

Summer was all but jumping up and down in pure glee. She turned and grasped Bucky's hands in hers, again whisper-screaming as she told him excitedly, "It happened! _Oh my God_, it happened! I told you my ship was about to sail!"

Bucky grinned at her enthusiasm, being happy to see two of his friends finally take a step towards realizing what was obviously between the two of them, but not quite on the same level of excitement as Summer.

Vision was back in the air and floating back towards the living room, his flight there somehow even lighter than usual, and Summer just couldn't contain her glee. She dragged Bucky by the hand back to the party, and the first thing she did upon arrival was let go of his hand and then plop down on one of the couches next to Wanda.

Wanda looked at her, then furrowed her brows a little at the overly eager way that Summer was smiling at her.

"What?"

Summer just continued to beam. "I was in the hallway a minute ago, and I kind of accidentally... saw... something."

"Oh," Wanda replied, her own smile immediately reappearing as she looked away and blushed just a little bit.

Summer smiled back and then looked across the room. Vision had been pulled into a conversation with Tony, but he was glancing over every few seconds like a nervous teenager. Summer turned back to Wanda and said, "I think it's great. Honestly I've been dying for you guys to get together for so long."

Wanda chuckled. "Yes, I've noticed, but I am not sure that we're... together, exactly."

"Maybe not yet," Summer shrugged, "but I hope you will be. You're adorable together. And he cares about you so much."

Wanda looked at her a little more seriously and asked quietly, "Do you think so?"

"We all do," Summer nodded. "Bucky's told me how on missions he looks out for you a little more than the others and is always protecting you. Which is funny, because you're a powerhouse and probably the most capable of looking out for yourself of all the Avengers. But it shows how much he cares. Even here, he's always looking out for you. You're his... priority." She then paused and noted, "You can literally read minds. How did you not know he felt that way?"

"I try not to read people unless I have to," Wanda explained. "But it isn't easy. Especially when someone's mind is loud. Like yours."

Summer paused. "I have a... loud... mind?"

"You project everything you think and feel like a big flashing neon light," Wanda said with amusement. "But _he_ is very quiet. Remarkable, too. His mind is... so..."

"... Amazing and inhuman?" Summer guessed.

"Peaceful," Wanda replied, smiling again. "Curious. Brilliant."

Summer then grinned and nudged the other woman's shoulder. "And you expect me to believe you don't have a crush?"

Wanda merely smiled and opted to neither confirm or deny the question.

Meanwhile, following the unexpected kiss, Vision had decided to seek out advice not from his sort-of father/creator Tony, but rather Steve who he had come to view as among one of the very best of humanity and therefore the perfect one to ask certain questions of.

Bucky happened to be standing next to Steve as Vision, currently out of his ghost costume, stood on the fray of the party and said, "I was hoping that maybe you could... enlighten me on something."

"Me?" Steve grinned, glancing at Bucky. "Sure. What's up?"

"Well," Vision began, looking perplexed, "on a... theoretical level, I understand why people kiss one another. I understand the mechanics and the purpose, I suppose, but..."

Steve looked at him in a bit of surprise, having not expected _that_ question. "... But?"

Vision then looked up and asked, "What makes someone _want_ to kiss someone else?"

"Oh," Steve blinked. Next to him, Bucky hid a grin and glanced over towards the girls sitting and probably having their own kiss-related conversation. "Well... that depends on who it is you're kissing. I wouldn't kiss my mom for the same reason I'd want to kiss Natasha, for example, but either way it's still love."

"But do you have to love someone to kiss them?"

"No," Steve quickly shook his head. "But that helps. Sometimes people kiss just if they like each other or... think they _might_ like each other."

Vision contemplated these things, appearing very much in deep thought, and Steve was on the verge of asking where all of this was coming from when Bucky stepped forward and gave Vision's shoulder a good-natured pat.

"Look, man," Bucky said, "she kissed you 'cause she likes you. Simple as that. And you liked it because you like her, too."

Vision blinked in surprise. "But I didn't say -"

"I know," Bucky nodded. "I saw. Me and Summer accidentally kind of walked in right as it was happening."

"_Who_ did you kiss?" Steve asked Vision, and Bucky turned and looked at him incredulously for a moment before going on with his own talk.

"Kissing's great. It's... a lot more intimate that some people make it out to be. And a kiss can change your life. I know because the first time Summer ever kissed me, it was..."

"Powerful?" Vision guessed quietly.

Bucky nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, and even now, almost four years later... kissing her's still my favorite thing to do. Just nothing like it, honestly."

Steve grinned at his friend's words and then said, "Yeah, I can relate to that."

Vision then glanced over towards Wanda, and he all deep thought and careful contemplation as he turned back to the two men and said, "You've both been very helpful. Thank you."

"No problem," Steve grinned. "And hey, if you need any dating advice soon, Bucky's the one with all the expertise. He was basically born with it."

Bucky shrugged and nodded. "But if you need help on figuring out what to say to her, Steve's your guy."

Vision looked at them both, clearly in way over his head, but that didn't stop him from replying, "I will keep that in mind. Thank you again."

They nodded and then glanced at one another as Vision departed from their midst, perhaps to seek out other opinions or maybe wait for his chance to get Wanda alone and ask for himself just _why_ she had kissed him.

"Well, I didn't see _that_ coming," Steve said, earning a roll of Bucky's eyes.

"You're the only one."

"Well, I knew they cared about each other, I just didn't think -"

Suddenly, Steve was silenced mid-sentence by Clint throwing both of his arms around him and Bucky from behind, a bottle of vodka in one of his hands as he slurred, "Hey guys! Some party, huh?"

They both turned and looked at the obviously very drunk Robin Hood, and Bucky eyed the vodka bottle and said, "Yeah... some party."

"Man, I just... I love you guys," Clint said, tugging them both a little closer. "You know that, right?"

"Now we do," Steve said, smiling and muffling a laugh as his fellow Avenger squeezed him.

"No, I mean it," Clint insisted, sloshing the bottle a little and almost spilling some on Bucky's pirate costume. "You guys are great. I mean, back when I first met _you_, Rogers, I thought you were an uptight old man who needed a week at a Vegas brothel, and _you_ -" he turned to Bucky, "honestly, I still haven't forgiven you and Summer for being so loud back when you lived with me that it sounded like I was running an amateur porn studio in my guest room."

"Sorry, man," Bucky grinned.

"Yeah, no you're not," Clint shook his head, "but that's okay. I love you anyway."

Clint then illustrated his words by laying big fat drunken kisses on the cheeks of both men before giving them one last pat and wandering off, presumably to find someone else to declare his love to. Steve and Bucky both wiped off their cheeks, the latter remarking, "Hopefully he stays away from Vision. Then we'll have to explain drunk kissing to him next."

"Speaking of that, you get the birds and the bees talk when it comes up," Steve declared, fixing his suit from where Clint had rumpled it.

"Me? Why do I get it?"

"Practice for when your kids ask you someday," Steve grinned.

Bucky scoffed. "But Tony's his... father... thing. Shouldn't _he_ get the talk?"

Steve then eyed Bucky pointedly and asked, "Would _you_ want Tony Stark giving one of _your_ kids the sex talk?"

Bucky paused. "Yeah, good point."

* * *

It was well into the late evening when the party wound down and Summer bade farewell to the the tower along with her family. It had been a lovely day and the party had been a big hit, but she was more than ready to crawl home and peel her corset off and just lay on her couch in her pajamas until bedtime rolled around.

Once they returned home, Bucky took a short shower to rid himself of his eyeliner and general pirate-y look, and Summer got the kids back into their normal clothes before at last getting out of her own costume. The corset had to wait until Bucky had emerged from the shower and could help her with the laces, and keeping him from getting handsy in the process was a struggle in itself but eventually, everybody was happy and comfortable again and sitting together in the living room.

The kids were on the floor playing toys together - Adelaide not happy with being handed a princess figure to play with when she _really_ wanted David's Hulk figure, which he was _not_ giving up - and Summer and Bucky were on the couch, snuggled under a blanket as they watched the kids and enjoyed the relative quiet after the day's festivities.

"I love how she's so girly," Bucky said, his head on Summer's shoulder as he watched Adelaide throw the princess toy and try to pry the Hulk from David's hand, "and she spends the whole day dressed as a princess but then comes home and just wants to smash things with a big green guy's fist."

"You can't pigeonhole her, that's for sure," Summer smiled, her cheek resting on the top of Bucky's head. His hair was damp from his shower and thrown back in a knot at the back of his head, and as Summer realized upon taking a whiff of, it smelled rather nice. "Hey, you used my coconut shampoo, didn't you?"

"Got a problem with that?" he asked, raising his head and throwing her a grin.

"No," she replied, bringing her hand to his face and running her thumb along the stubble on his cheek. "I just think it's funny that my big scary Avenger husband smells like a piña colada."

"You like piña coladas," he pointed out, eyes dropping down to her lips for a moment before coming back up.

"I wasn't complaining," she chuckled before closing her eyes as he kissed her. It was a small, sweet kiss, and it was just enough to make Adelaide start giggling from where she was now standing at the couch, near their legs.

They pulled away and smiled at their daughter, Bucky leaning forward and grabbing her from the floor and putting her on his lap. Adelaide giggled more as he kissed her cheek, and then she grabbed on to his hair and smacked her forehead against his a few times as she continued to giggle happily.

"Ouch, ouch," Bucky grimaced, though he was still smiling. "Man, you've got a hard head."

"She gets _that_ from you," Summer was quick to point out.

Bucky grinned at that and then asked Adelaide, "What do you think? Think you got this big, hard head from Daddy?"

And then, as if the not-quite-one year old had planned it like this from the start, she smiled and said in her cute little girly voice, "Dada!"

At first, it didn't even register in Bucky's head that she'd _finally_ said his name. It took him by that much surprise, and it only dawned on him once she grabbed his hair again and started babbling, "Dada dada dada dada..."

Summer gasped. David dropped his toys and hurried over, wanting to see this for himself, and Bucky was all wide-eyed, huge smiles as his jaw dropped and he exclaimed, "You said it! You said Dada!"

Adelaide, picking up on his enthusiasm, held on to his hair tighter and pushed his head back and forth as best as she could, continuing her giggly chants of many _dada's_, and Summer was quick to break out her phone and get as much of it on video as she could. It was, in both her mind and Bucky's, the absolute perfect way to end what had been a great day all around.

Little did she know, it was about to get even better.

Once Adelaide calmed down a bit and was lying with her head on Bucky's shoulder, working hard on pulling out each individual hair on his head one by one, David was leaning on the couch with his head on top of his crossed arms. He watched for a bit, then reached forward and tapped Bucky on his leg. Bucky immediately looked his way, giving him his full attention.

"Daddy," David quickly muttered quietly before smiling and reddening with embarrassment. As soon as he'd said it, he smacked his hands over his face and then dropped down to the floor, hiding, and if Bucky had been shocked by Adelaide, then he was utterly _floored_ by David.

Summer nearly went into cardiac arrest. She and Bucky stared at each other with their eyes as big as saucers, and then Bucky leaned down to put his hand on top of David's head to try to coax him out of the shell he'd just retreated into.

"Hey," Bucky said gently, "_hey_. Don't be embarrassed. Come back."

David shook his head vehemently, and Bucky and Summer shared a smile. David surely just didn't want them to make a fuss about it, and silently they agreed not to, even though Summer was on the verge of tears and Bucky wasn't all that far behind.

But instead, he leaned down enough to scoop David up on to the couch - which was easier than it looked, considering he used his left arm - and then he held the kid to his other side that Adelaide wasn't occupying. He hugged David close and said, "I know you don't like talking, so... that was really special. Thanks, buddy."

David then peeked up from behind his hands and almost immediately retreated back behind them, but it gave Bucky just enough of a glimpse to know that David was smiling and happy, and that was enough for him.

Summer was simply beside herself. She looked on at the sweet sight before her, of Bucky holding both kids and clearly adoring them both equally, and Summer could feel herself nearly descending to a pool of blubbering happy tears. To spare herself the waterworks, she got herself together and, upon asking if anyone wanted cookies and getting three very affirmative answers, she got up and headed into the kitchen with a huge smile on her face.

Once in the kitchen, she grabbed some sugar cookie dough that she'd made a month earlier and stored in the freezer, then turned on the oven and let out a heavy sigh. Life continued to throw happy little surprises at her, and she was just so damn _happy_. The one that made her even happier than she already felt was seeing how happy her family was. Bucky had come so far and so had David, and Adelaide, well... she'd just been _born_ happy.

Still smiling to herself, Summer got the cookies into the oven as soon as it had preheated. She was washing her hands when there was a knock on the front door, and she quickly dried off her hands and made her way to who she assumed was Paul and a few of his kids, since he'd mentioned earlier in a text that he might stop by that night.

When she opened the door, she didn't find Paul on the other side but rather a man she'd never seen before. He smiled in a very friendly way and said, "Hi. Sorry to bother you, but I live close by - couple streets over - and my car just broke down," he said, gesturing to a car that was parked on the road with its hazard lights blinking. "Do you maybe have a phone I could borrow?"

"Oh," Summer said, nodding. "Sure. Hang on, I'll be right back."

She closed the door and walked back to the kitchen, where her rarely-used house phone sat on its charger. She picked it up and went back to the front door, opening it and handing the man the phone. "Here you go."

"Thanks so much," he said gratefully. "My wife has jumper cables she can bring me, but my phone died at work a couple hours ago and I left my charger at home. Go figure."

"Well, when it rains it pours, right?" Summer chuckled, and the guy nodded and laughed back.

"Oh, for sure. Hey, not to impose or anything, but could I just step inside for a minute while I call her? It's cold out tonight."

It was indeed cold, but Summer wasn't about to let a stranger in her house, seemingly harmless or no. "I would, but... my kids are about to go down for the night soon, so..."

"Oh, sure, sure. I understand. I mean, I'd be quiet though. I'm just kinda freezing here."

It _was_ cold, and Summer did feel sort of bad for saying no, but she simply had to stand her ground. "Yeah... I'm really sorry."

He nodded, looking down at the phone before looking back up and asking, "Could I use the bathroom? I'd only be a minute and then I could come back out here and make the call."

Summer paused at the question, starting to feel a bit uneasy now. She understood the guy's predicament, but he was trying _so_ hard to get inside, and something about it wasn't sitting well. "Look, I'm really sorry that I keep saying no, but really, the phone's the best I can do right now."

The man let out a sigh and nodded, looking back down to the phone. Then he handed it back to Summer without dialing a single number on it. She took it with a look of confusion, and the man didn't blink as he whipped out a gun with one hand and an ID proclaiming him an FBI agent with the other hand. He aimed the gun at her, and Summer dropped the phone to the floor as her hands flew up and her heart dropped out of her chest.

"Stay quiet, ma'am. We know you've got kids here and we don't want this getting out of hand."

Terror overcame her like ice engulfing her veins, her eyes wide and horrified as the first few confusing seconds gave way to grim understanding. She knew what this was and what was happening, and that was why she quietly and shakily pled as the man stepped inside of the house, "No, no, no, _no_... please, no..."

"Step aside, Mrs. Barnes," was all the man said, and hearing him call her that nearly made her knees give out. They knew who she was. They knew who she was married to and that she had kids with him.

After the man walked through the front door, next came a line of men dressed in heavy black tactical gear and armed to the teeth. They poured in soundlessly, following the orders of the first man, seemingly ready to start shooting at any minute. She watched them helplessly, heart pounding and ears ringing with panic.

In just the next room, Bucky was still sitting there with both Adelaide and David, having no clue what was coming. She couldn't warn him and even if she could, she doubted it would have helped. Still, those few seconds spent in the kitchen watching federal agents slowly make their way to the living room were some of the worst of her life.

Her babies were in that living room. That was what propelled her out of her state of shock and sent her running, because she knew how easy it would be for a stray bullet to pierce either one of her children. They needed her there to protect them.

Unfortunately, one of the men caught her and restrained her. She yelled at him to let her go, and that was when all of the agents swarmed into the living room with guns raised.

Some came in from the back door, others through the garage, resulting in the entire living room being surrounded. Bucky jumped up from his previously reclined position on the couch, both kids still in his arms, and his expression went from shocked at the sudden sight of an army swarming his home to absolutely murderous in the three seconds it took for him to see that Summer was in the grip of one of the agents. Everything happened so fast that it was dizzying.

"Drop the kids and get down!" yelled the man who had pretended to need a jump for his broken down car, aiming his gun somewhere in the center of Bucky's chest. Every other gun in the room was also trained solely upon home. "Get down on the floor now, hands up where I can see them!"

Adelaide burst into tears the minute the yelling started, and David had never looked more terrified in his life. Both kids clung to Bucky, who wasn't moving. His eyes darted from agent to agent, then to Summer who was struggling to free herself to no avail. Tears were streaming down her face, and for a moment Bucky's murderous, calculating glare broke. In its place was sheer heartbreak.

There was nowhere to go. There was no punching or shooting his way out of this one.

"David, buddy, let go," he whispered, but David only held on tighter. Adelaide was red-faced and crying hysterically, looking at her mama being held back by a man with a gun and hardly breathing for how hard she was crying.

Eventually, though it wasn't easy, Bucky managed to get David to let go. Adelaide was a different story. He tried to put her down on the couch, but she clung to him like her life depended on it, and he was absolutely not going to rip her away and leave her like that. He'd die before he let that happen. She was too little and not the least bit able to comprehend anything that was happening.

And so, he turned and addressed the man in charge directly. "You want me, you've got me. I won't fight you. But you let my wife go and you don't touch her again, and you don't touch my kids."

The man considered that for a moment, then turned to the man holding Summer back and nodded. He let her go, and she ran to Bucky on her wobbly, almost useless legs.

He handed Adelaide over to her as David grabbed on to her as well. Her eyes were frantic and terrified, but Bucky put on his bravest face as he kissed Summer goodbye.

"It's okay," he whispered to her, even as three men converged on him and started pulling him away. "It's gonna be okay. I love you."

"I love you," Summer choked out, holding Adelaide close and shielding both her and David from danger as Bucky was then forced to the ground. Tears flowed anew from her eyes as they held him down and restrained him, putting a pair of cuffs on him that had undoubtedly been crafted specifically for holding him, and she covered David's eyes with one hand and guided Adelaide's gaze away with her other.

The man in charge didn't read Bucky his Miranda rights. Even though Summer was shocked and horrified and heartbroken, she didn't miss that fact, and it scared her even more. Miranda rights were read to U.S. citizens entitled to their rights under the Constitution. But they were treating Bucky like an enemy combatant or foreign terrorist rather than an American citizen whose name was in history books that described him as a war hero.

This wasn't just Bucky being arrested. This was Bucky being arrested with the intent of never seeing the light of day again, with no concern for due process, and if Summer knew that, Bucky surely did too. She wondered if they would have even taken him alive had there not been innocent kids involved.

They dragged him away once they had him searched and completely restrained. He tried to look back to Summer and the kids one last time but they shoved his head forward and didn't let him. Summer stood there and watched as he disappeared, still crying and still in shock that a day that had been so _perfect_ had ended like this.

Clutching Adelaide tightly and keeping David at her side, Summer ran towards her front door after Bucky had been taken through it. She didn't quite make it there before not one but two men held her back, but she still managed to look over their shoulders and see something she'd never forget for the rest of her days.

Bucky was being loaded into the back of a huge armored car. The agents tossed him down on a bench inside of it and then, as they went to close the doors, he turned his head and made eye contact with Summer one last time. It only lasted a moment, but it was enough to break her all over again as the doors slammed shut and, seconds later, the truck was taking him away.

She backed away from the agents, retreating into the living room with her children. All around her, the agents began to search her home. Some went towards her bedroom, others towards the kids' rooms. A few headed down to the basement, where they'd find Bucky's small armory of weapons that he ironically kept there in case of incidents like these.

They acted like she wasn't there. She knew it wouldn't stay that way, so she took the opportunity to grab her phone where it had been sitting on the couch the whole time and make a very important call. She was devastated, but she wasn't going to sit back and just watch her life crumble before her eyes.

Adelaide continued to cry as the line began to ring, her big blue eyes darting from agent to agent like they were monsters who had invaded her world and filled her with terror. David was quiet but trembling, holding on to Summer with everything he had and whimpering a little bit like he did when a meltdown was coming on.

"Steve," she said as soon as he picked up on the other end, tears still streaming endlessly down her face but her voice impressively steady and strong for both her own sake and the sake of the kids that she needed to be strong for, "I need you. Now."

**A/N #2: *hides behind couch***


	52. Chapter 52

**A/N: Soooo I am so sorry for last week and the horrible, gut-wrenching cliffhanger I left you guys on. I really am. I'm just... well... I'm evil, basically, and after so long of this story being all puppy dogs and rainbows, I was pretty much tingling with glee over getting to smash all the happiness and plunge everyone into misery lol. This part of the story has been planned by myself and midnightwings96 for a LONG time, and we've both been anticipating it SO HARD lol. I can tell you guys that what I fully believe are the best parts of the story are still yet to come, and I can also say that we're officially in the homestretch. That's right, we are slowly approaching the end of this story. Now with that being said, there's still PLENTY of chapters to go and it's not like the end is right around the corner, but this is basically the final phase of things, if that makes sense. And then once I finish this story, next is an AU with the same characters that is already ruining my life as midnightwings96 and I plot it but anyway BACK TO THE TASK AT HAND :p **

**Thank you guys SO MUCH for reading and reviewing, and for all of your reactions to the last chapter. I am sorry, once again lol, but I hope this chapter makes up a bit for leaving you guys hanging like that. I LOVE you all, and I will see you next week :D**

"I would say that maybe you should slow down," Natasha said as Steve flew through a red light without so much as blinking, "but I know I'd be wasting my breath."

Steve tightened his grip on the steering wheel and said nothing, sparing the shortest of glances to his blind spot before changing lanes to pass a few cars obeying the speed limit. He was driving like a maniac but a very safe one, if that was even possible, so Natasha remained quiet after exchanging a quick glance with Sam in the backseat.

"I just don't understand how they found him," Sam said, echoing one of the many thoughts running through Steve's frantic head. "I thought you and Tony were keeping him under the radar."

"We are," Natasha replied. "We _were_. Must have been someone who saw him and recognized him, or... maybe a security camera somewhere."

"Maybe someone at the office isn't happy he's on the team," Sam said.

"Only level seven and over even know about him," Natasha replied. "He's as safe at the facility as he could be anywhere."

Steve, nearly pushing the speedometer into triple digits, kept his eyes fixed in an almost murderous glare on the road. They were getting closer to their exit, and soon he'd be forced to drive at slightly more reasonable speeds.

"I know, but still," Sam sighed. "Had to be somebody tipping them off. As long as it _is_ the FBI and not HYDRA."

"I already confirmed with my contact at the Bureau," Natasha quickly replied. "It's legitimate. They took him to an undisclosed location. Probably underground somewhere that isn't supposed to exist."

Though it hardly seemed possible, Steve's jaw managed to tighten even more. He slowed down just a little bit and took their exit, managing to slip past a few other cars and earning a few well-deserved honks in the process.

Natasha, looking at Steve with unhidden concern in her green eyes, said gently, "Steve, I know this is bad, but you need to calm down. We need to handle this the right way, and you look like you're going to start breaking skulls as soon as we get there."

His voice low and tightly controlled, Steve replied, "They went to his _home_, Natasha. They pointed their guns at him and took him in front of his wife and kids."

"But can you look at me and honestly say you thought he'd go the rest of his life without this happening?" Natasha asked, and it was not a question that Steve wanted to contemplate.

As it turned out, he didn't need to. Before he knew it, he was turning on to the neighborhood street that Bucky and Summer's rented home sat on, and the line of black, unmarked vehicles parked on both sides of the road confirmed that agents were still there. Steve knew they'd be combining through the house, probably confiscating computers and whatever they could get their hands on for evidence, and the thought of _that_ made him even angrier.

What he couldn't think about was Bucky, wherever he was, being held in restraints meant to immobilize a super soldier, having just been ripped away from his family to now be thrown in some cage somewhere so far off the map that nobody but his captors would know where he was. All Steve could think about, all that was worthy of his focus, was the injustice of this happening to an innocent man who had one given his life for his country and endured endless torture and worse at the hands of its enemies. He'd been through so much and overcame more than any one person ever should, became a hero again and earned his role on the Avengers' team, but none of that mattered to the government.

Steve parked the car on Summer's driveway and quickly hopped out of the car, Natasha taking his left and Sam his right as he marched up to the front door. There were a couple of gun-toting SWAT agents there standing guard, one of whom immediately said once they got close, "Back up, sir - nobody goes in or out until we're done here."

Steve didn't budge or even blink as he kept walking and replied lowly, "You know damn well who I am and you're gonna let me in before I force my way in."

"Sir -"

Steve managed to stand up even straighter and looked down at the man with all of the fury that had been brewing inside ever since he'd gotten Summer's call. "_Move_."

After paling slightly behind his tactical mask, the agent did indeed move, and Steve didn't hesitate to storm inside with Natasha and Sam right behind him. He passed the kitchen and walked straight to the living room, where he found his best friend's wife and kids huddled together on a couch while some agent in a suit sat in front of them rattling off question after question.

Summer's eyes were red and puffy when she looked up and saw Steve, relief instantly pouring across her distressed features. Adelaide was burrowed in her arms, quiet but obviously scared, and David was hiding his face behind Summer's shoulder and trembling slightly.

Some of Steve's fury gave way to heartbreak. As he came closer, he heard the agent telling Summer, "... But like I said, you're going to have to talk to us sooner or later and it'll be easiest for you and your kids if we get this done now."

"Leave her alone," Steve barked at the man, who looked up at him and then sighed before seemingly relenting for the moment. Steve then turned to Summer and said, "Don't talk to _any_ of these people."

"I haven't," she assured him, trying briefly to stand up, but the kids hanging on her prevented her from moving from her seat. "I haven't said a word." Her eyes flickered from Steve to Natasha and Sam right behind him, and she said quietly, "Thank you all so much for coming so fast."

Steve nodded and leaned down so he could put his hand on her arm. "We're gonna figure this out, okay? I'm gonna do everything I can to fix this."

Summer nodded, fresh tears coming to her bloodshot blue eyes, and Steve gave her arm a reassuring squeeze before the sound of the man in the suit's voice distracted them both.

"Look, Mr. Rogers, as much as I'm sure you think you're probably helping here, you're not. This is a federal investigation and..."

Steve turned around then, looking down at the sitting man with eyes full of the anger coursing through his veins. "And what? That means you people get to ransack this house and scar a couple of kids for life even though you already got what you came here for? And now you're interrogating this woman?"

The man stood up. "Listen, Captain -"

"Who's in charge here?" Steve demanded as Natasha sat down next to Summer, holding her hand and speaking to her quietly. Sam stood watch, keeping an eye on the agents carrying out items from the house that they apparently thought they needed for evidence.

"I am," the man replied tersely before taking out his ID badge and showing it, "and you and your friends have no jurisdiction here."

Setting his jaw, Steve asked while gesturing to Summer, "Are you going to arrest her?"

"Well, as the wife of the most wanted fugitive in the United States, we certainly have a lot of questions for her and -"

"But are you going to arrest her tonight?" Steve pressed.

The man paused and pursed his lips, glancing at Summer and then replying, "No. But it's not out of the question, considering she's clearly been harboring a fugitive for a significant amount of time. And I'm willing to bet she's not the only one."

The agent looked pointedly at Steve and the other two Avengers present, and they all stared back blankly without the slightest hint of shame or wariness. Adelaide began squirming in Summer's arms, whimpering before looking around and starting to cry all over again. Natasha had tried to place a soothing hand on David's back, but he had merely flinched before burrowing deeper behind Summer on the couch. It had been several _years_ since Steve had seen him act like that.

"You tore a family apart tonight," Steve told the agent quietly. "If you're going to arrest any of us, then arrest us. If not, then leave this woman alone and let her and her kids have some time to deal with what just happened. And if you want to talk to her, you call and make an appointment and you don't bully her while she's still in shock."

The agent wasn't impressed with Steve or a single word he said, but he eventually shoved his hands in his pockets and said, "This investigation is just beginning. We're all gonna be seeing a hell of a lot of each other."

He then walked away, and Steve glared at his back before turning and giving his attention back to Summer. She was trying to hush Adelaide, who was bordering on inconsolable, and Steve asked with a helpless look on his face, "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Summer, doing her best to rock her baby back and forth, furrowed her brows and shook her head as tears filled her eyes yet again. "I don't know. I can't believe this is real. I can't believe..." Summer's face crumpled and her voice broke, unable to finish her sentence.

Natasha wrapped her arm around Summer's shoulder, and Steve knelt down in front of Summer and put his hand over one of hers as he said with the utmost sincerity, "We're gonna get him back."

"But Steve," Summer said, sniffing back another wave of tears, "he's... _he killed a President_. They're never gonna..."

"But we both know that he's innocent in every way that counts," Steve replied. "We're gonna prove that. We're gonna get him back, Summer. You know that I'm gonna do everything I can to fix this."

"We all are," Natasha nodded.

"We need to get you guys out of here," Sam interjected. "There's neighbors walking around outside with their cell phones and I'm willing to bet it won't be long until this ends up on the news."

"They haven't announced the arrest yet," Natasha said, "but you don't want to be here with the kids when they do."

"We'll get you guys to the tower," Steve said. "Safest place to be right now."

Summer nodded, then closed her eyes briefly and said, "We never should have left the tower. Maybe this wouldn't have happened if I hadn't been so stupid wanting a stupid 'normal' house..."

"We don't know why this happened," Steve said gently, "but it's not your fault. None of this is your fault." He then paused and said, "I'll be right back, okay?"

Summer nodded, then said in her shaky but clear voice, "Thank you, Steve, for everything. I don't know what I'd do without all of you."

"Well, you don't ever get to find out," Steve said before getting back to his feet, giving her hand one last squeeze. He and Sam shared a look before they both headed off together towards the swarm of agents still going in and out of the house as if they owned the place.

Meanwhile, Summer was on the verge of losing it. She'd been holding on despite crying a steady stream of never-ending tears ever since Bucky had been ripped away from her, and now that her friends were there and she was no longer alone, the trauma of it all was starting to catch up with her. That, coupled with Adelaide's crying and David's simmering meltdown as he stayed wedged between her and the couch, resulted in her finally losing her wits.

She had been trying to get Adelaide to nurse, knowing it would help calm the child down, but Adelaide was having none of it and instead simply kept wailing in her arms. Frustrated and terrified and half convinced that she'd never see her husband and father of her children again, Summer began to shake her head and mutter, "I can't do this. I can't. I don't know how, I don't... I can't... I'm..."

Luckily, she had a best friend who knew that she was a lot stronger than she was giving herself credit for. "Summer, look at me."

Summer looked at Natasha, who was still half-hugging her, and the tears continued to fall as Natasha looked her square in the eyes and told her, "You _can_ do this. You _have_ to. You're strong and you know it."

"I don't feel strong," Summer admitted. "I feel useless and stupid and..."

"But you're not," Natasha told her, "and as horrible as all of this is, it's reality and you have to deal with it. You have to be strong for yourself _and_ your kids. Weakness isn't an option."

Knowing that she was right, Summer let out a choked breath and did her best to breathe in a much deeper one. She closed her eyes and nodded her head. "Okay. Okay, I'll try."

"No, you're not going to try," Natasha said. "You're going to _do_ it. It's the only way to get through this."

Summer looked at her, taking in the pure confidence and assurance in Natasha's eyes, giving away how much she truly believed in Summer. It was just what Summer needed to pull herself together and remember that she _was_ strong and that she _could_ do this, even if she'd never faced anything like this before.

For the first time since Bucky had been taken, she truly breathed. She took comfort in no longer being alone and knowing that she and Steve and the others were going to fight for Bucky, and after a few moments spent calming down as much as she could given the situation, something remarkable happened. Adelaide calmed down, too, and in just a few moments, she was nursing and drifting off to sleep following her traumatic night.

David was another story, and Summer feared for what all of this would mean for his mental state. Things had been so stable for so long and he'd taken such huge strides, even starting to talk a little bit here and there, as recently as that night. Now not only had his routine been shot to hell, but he'd watched his adopted father be dragged away from their home at gunpoint by federal agents, and he was acting more terrified than he had been when his own life had been threatened at the age of five. She had the feeling that the following days would be some of the hardest of David's life so far.

"I need to pack some bags," Summer said once Adelaide was asleep in her arms. She looked up at Nat and said, "Can you help me? If those guys are still going through my stuff -"

"Yeah, of course," Natasha nodded, just before their attention was stolen by the sounds of arguing taking place just outside the front door.

Natasha got up and walked to the door, carefully looking out and finding Summer's brother to be the cause of the arguing. He was standing there arguing vehemently with the same agent who'd tried to keep herself and Steve out, and as soon as he saw Natasha standing there, he focused on her and asked, "What the _hell_ is going on?"

Rather than answer directly, Natasha eyed the agent acting as a barrier and said, "This man is immediate family. Let him in."

"Ma'am, my orders are -"

Just then, the "agent in charge" walked past Natasha and out of the house, saying, "We got what we came for. Let him in. Doesn't matter."

Paul gave both agents a withering glare before quickly making his way inside, walking with Natasha to the living room where Summer still was. He stared wide-eyed at the state of the house, which _looked_ like it had been ransacked by the FBI, and then he rushed to Summer's side.

"What happened?"

Summer looked at her brother wearily, appreciating his presence and wishing that she could just throw herself into his arms like she had when she was a kid and other kids had been being mean to her. He couldn't defend her from these particular bullies, however, so she replied quietly, "They came and took Bucky. They arrested him. He's gone."

Paul stared at her in disbelief, then looked at Adelaide's tear-streaked cheeks and David still in distress behind Summer. "_My God_, Summer. I was on my way over here and I saw the cars and the lights and..."

"It happened so fast," Summer half-whispered back, shaking her head slightly. "One minute everything was fine, and we were just sitting here together and Adelaide said 'da da' for the first time, and David said 'Daddy'..."

Paul's eyes widened slightly. "He spoke?"

Summer nodded. "Then someone knocked on the door and it was this... _guy_, asking if he could use the phone, and then the next thing I know there's like a hundred guys with guns in here and..."

Staring at her in horror, Paul half-gaped for a moment before saying, "I thought... I thought you guys were safe here. I thought..."

Summer shook her head. "I guess we never were safe. I don't know. I don't know how this happened." Then, after adjusting Adelaide in her arms, she asked Paul, "Can you take her and stay here with David? I've got to get them to the tower and I need to pack."

Paul nodded immediately, holding out his arms to take the child. After carefully handing her over, Summer gave her brother a hug and said, "I love you."

He squeezed her back with his one free arm, looking at her helplessly after she pulled away from the hug. "I love you too. I just... I don't even know what to say."

Summer looked at David, now hiding his face with his hands as he continued huddling against the couch. Then she turned back to Paul and muttered, "I don't either."

Then, after Natasha put a comforting hand on Summer's shoulder, she glanced at the other woman and then took a deep breath before heading out of the living room for the first time since she'd watched Bucky be taken from them.

Her house was a disaster, but most of the men had gone now, aside from a few still emptying Bucky's small armory in the basement. She had a couple guns down there too that she legally owned, but she didn't have the energy to care. Instead, she marched to her bedroom and then stopped dead in the doorway at what she saw.

For some reason, she'd expected more care from federal agents. Adelaide's crib that she kept in hers and Bucky's room was shoved against the wall, all of their drawers open, every computer they owned seized. Bucky's phone was gone. One of their wedding photos on the wall was gone - frame still intact and present, but the photo itself gone.

She took a breath, steeling herself, and then she walked inside and grabbed one of her empty bags from the closet. She operated on autopilot, moving from the bedroom and bathroom, grabbing clothes and necessities for herself and her kids. She almost started to pack some of Bucky's clothes, until she remembered that he wasn't with them anymore. It was enough to nearly break her all over again.

But she kept it together because, as Natasha had reminded her, she _needed_ to. While she grabbed an extra pair of shoes from her closet, she looked down and noticed Bucky's birthday present knocked down to the ground, just by her feet. She quickly picked up the book of boudoir photos and shoved it into her bag, definitely not wanting _that_ to fall into anyone else's hands.

By the time that she was ready, she had three bags packed and more than enough for her and the kids to get by for about a week. Natasha helped her carry them out to the living room, where Paul, the kids, Steve and Sam were all waiting together. The agents were officially gone, leaving her home - and her life - a shell of what it had been before.

"Ready?" Steve asked gently, standing in the middle of the living room while the others say.

She nodded. "Yeah."

Sam got up and took her bags from her, giving her a small hug in the process. She thanked him before he took the bags outside to the car, and then silence fell upon the room for a few brief moments.

Steve broke the silence. "We have to get him out."

"We can't break him out, Steve," Natasha replied from her place standing next to Summer. "We don't even know where he is,"

"But we'll find out," Steve replied, "and when we do -"

"It would only make things worse," Natasha argued. "This isn't HYDRA, Steve. It's not Austria, either. You can't punch your way inside and break him out of this one."

"What am I supposed to do?" Steve asked, eyes and tone a bit desperate. "Sit back and do nothing? Just let them take him and do God knows what to him wherever they're keeping him?"

Summer's heart was with Steve, but her head knew that Natasha was right and that really, there was no choice to be made. "She's right, Steve," she said, her tone broken and dull. "You can't break him out."

Steve stared at her like she was the very last person he expected to side against him. "But Summer -"

"You can't," Summer restated. "He's... he can't run forever. He can't. This is horrible but maybe this was always going to happen. Maybe it was unavoidable. And I don't know what they're planning on doing with him because they didn't even read him his rights, but..."

Natasha suddenly looked at Steve with a knowing, dark look. Steve's face fell.

"What?" Summer asked.

"It means that most likely," Natasha replied, "they don't plan on charging him with his crimes and trying him in civilian court. Miranda rights are for American citizens, not assassins working for sworn enemies."

Summer stared at Natasha before blinking and asking, "You mean the Soviet Union? But that was years ago!"

"It doesn't matter," Natasha said. "He assassinated a President while he was working for the KGB. _That's_ the crime that'll define him in the eyes of the government."

Steve looked as sickened as Summer felt. "He won't get a fair trial," he muttered. "He might not get a trial at all."

"_That_ needs to be our focus," Natasha decided. "Getting him a real trial."

"How?" Summer asked, feeling what little hope she had left start slipping away.

Sam, who had returned a few moments earlier from getting the car packed and was back at Steve's side, said, "He was a war hero. Everyone who ever paid attention in history class knows his name. Least they could do is give him a fair trial, just because of _that_ and who he was."

"And everyone knows he was brainwashed," Summer added. "I knew that three days after I met him because of the SHIELD leak. It's all over his files. It's not like he consciously defected to Russia, or HYDRA."

"That needs to be our angle," Natasha said.

Everyone was agreed on that point, but the problem was that it was after midnight and nothing could be done until at least the following morning. Everyone in the room being well aware of this, it was Sam who next suggested they get going, and Summer nodded before taking a breath and turning to her still-distraught son.

It took a bit of coaxing, but Summer managed to scoop David up into her arms. It wasn't easy either, considering how much he had grown, but she got him into a semi-comfortable carrying position and then nodded to Paul. He got up and followed her out the door, Adelaide still asleep in his arms, and they followed the others out towards the car.

On their way out the door, Summer paused and looked back into her home. It was the first real home that she'd lived in since she lost her grandmother's house to HYDRA, and it was the very first place that she and Bucky had chosen to live in together. They'd brought Adelaide home from the birthing center there, raised her and her brother there, and they'd all been so incredibly happy underneath that roof.

Now, to Summer, the house merely stood there like a monument to the fantasy she'd indulged so long, that somehow she could marry the Winter Soldier, have his children, and never have to face the reality of him being a very, _very_ wanted man.

"Summer," Paul said quietly, interrupting her rather morose moment. "Come on."

She nodded, taking a breath and resuming her walk to the car, leaving her home and the life that she'd had there behind. For how long, only time would tell.

* * *

Summer's unexpected return to the tower was met with little fanfare, and she was grateful for it. Tony wasn't there, apparently having a late night at the Avengers facility per Steve's request. Clint had called Natasha on their way to the tower, and though Summer didn't have the energy or wits to talk to him herself, he relayed his shock through Nat as well as an offer of his help in any capacity that Summer needed. She was grateful for the support and made sure to express it, but she could still hardly believe that it was all even real.

Upon her arrival at the tower, she was met at the elevator by Wanda, who was still clad in her witch costume from the party. The look on the woman's face took Summer by surprise, but really, she shouldn't have been surprised at all - David had all but adopted her into the family, and if there was anyone in the world who was like a little sister to Bucky, it was her.

Wanda hugged Summer the minute she stepped off of the elevator, and afterwards she turned to David who was holding Summer's hand and refusing to make eye contact with anyone.

"He's been like this since it happened," Summer explained, her voice a little hoarse and flat. Wanda knelt in front of the boy, touching his face and getting zero response from him. "I don't know what to do."

Wanda pursed her lips and reluctantly stood up, looking down at the sleeping baby in Summer's arms. "Your old room here, I tried to prepare it when I heard that you were coming here. There's really just the bed, but I found some sheets and put them on."

"Thank you," Summer sighed, fully sincere. "You didn't have to do that."

Wanda shook her head slightly, then glanced at Steve who was pacing nearby on the phone. "I can't believe this happened."

Summer opened her mouth to echo those sentiments, but then Adelaide began squirming and threatened to wake. Wanda quickly fell silent and then led Summer to her old room, helping to keep David walking there when he let go of Summer's hand and tried not to budge.

The old room was indeed empty, with just Summer's old bed and a table and empty dresser within it. But that was enough for that night, and Summer kept the lights off as she carefully laid Adelaide down in the bed. By a small miracle, she stayed asleep, but David was another story.

Wanda had gotten him into the room, but as soon as they'd crossed the threshold, he had sat down on the floor with his arms hugging his knees and then refused to move from that spot. Once Adelaide was taken care of, Summer quietly made her way to the boy and tried to coax him up, but every time she touched him he recoiled and made a low whining sound, like he was on the verge of screaming.

"David," Summer said gently, trying her best to not touch him, "I know you're scared. I am too. We've been through some scary things tonight, but we're safe now, and... and tomorrow we're all gonna start working on getting Daddy back home, okay?"

Her words, however, were of no use. He was on edge, his mind racing, comfort zone shot to hell, and he started scrunching up his face like she knew he did before a bout of screaming was coming.

"David," she said cautiously, "David, honey, why don't we go get in bed with a movie? Or a game? I've got your tablet and your movies, so..."

She made the mistake of unthinkingly giving his arm a tug. That one touch set him off, and he jerked back away from her, hit the back of his head on the wall, and the meltdown officially began.

It had been so long since he'd had a fit like the one that was starting that Summer's heart dropped into her chest and her eyes filled up with tears. It was beyond her control and beyond David's as well, and all there was to do was let it run its course, let him scream, and try to not let him hurt himself in the process.

Back on the bed, Adelaide started rolling around. Summer looked up and noticed this, knowing that she would undoubtedly wake up fully any minute, thanks to all the noise. She didn't know what to do, and it was as she was feeling more helpless than she had in a very long time that Wanda gently touched her arm and offered a suggestion.

"I can help him," she said. "Will you let me?"

Summer stared at her. "You mean like... get in his head?"

"Yes," Wanda nodded. "But only if you allow it."

Summer nodded. "Okay. Yeah. Do it."

Wanda nodded, then turned to David and, carefully and with a great deal of focus, lifted one of her hands and shifted her fingers as red energy flowed from her fingertips to his head. Summer watched as Wanda's eyes glowed the same shade of scarlet as the energy, and then David's brown eyes began to glow as well. His screams tapered off, his body began to relax, and his breathing slowly calmed as Wanda's gifts began to work their magic.

Summer picked him up and cradled him in her arms once he was fully calmed, eyes open but unfocused and mind obviously not quite there. He remained like that for a few moments, just drifting and growing more and more relaxed, and very soon, he was sound asleep.

"Whoa," Summer marveled. "He's... he's okay, right?"

"Of course," Wanda assured her. "I took him back to his happiest memory. Almost like he was able to live it over again. Then, once it had calmed him, he fell asleep on his own. He was exhausted."

"His happiest memory?" Summer repeated. "What was it?"

"If I told you," Wanda warned her, "it would only make you more sad."

Summer hesitated, but because she was never one to shy away from dumping even more misery on her own head, she replied, "It's okay. I want to know."

"It was your wedding," Wanda said quietly.

"_Really_?" Summer asked, eyes widening just a little bit. "My wedding? But... that day was kind of boring for him, and..."

"It doesn't matter," Wanda shrugged. "To him, it's the day he gained a father and you three became a family. It was his dream coming true."

Wanda was right. Knowing this only made Summer more sad, and it brought a fresh wave of tears to her eyes. Looking down at David's now-peaceful face, remembering that happy day herself and how utterly perfect it had been, it only made the ache in her heart worse.

"Thank you, Wanda," Summer said, holding the tears back for now. "Thank you for helping him."

Wanda nodded. "Of course."

Wanda helped Summer up to her feet a few seconds later, and Summer carried David to the bed and laid him down next to his sister. After she pulled the cover over him and made sure that he was comfortable, she took a step back and wondered what the hell to do next.

She couldn't sleep. She was exhausted but wide awake. She felt a bit like a car with its brakes cut, unable to stop or slow down and at the mercy of forces beyond her influence. She was halfway tempted to ask Wanda to just voodoo her into a coma, but instead, she took the woman up on an offer to go out and get a drink from the kitchen with her.

Leaving her old room behind and her kids sleeping safely within it, Summer trudged behind Wanda and was halfway to the kitchen when something else caught her eye. In the living room, Sam and Natasha were sitting close to one another, working on something on Nat's computer, and Steve was off standing in front of one of the floor-length windows. He was staring out at the night skyline, silent and looking as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Summer told Wanda she'd be back and then started walking towards Steve, feeling the way that he looked. As much as the night's events had hurt her and her kids, she knew that this was all just as hard for Steve to stomach.

She quietly came up behind him, looking out the window with her bleary eyes and just standing there with him, not saying a word. Words weren't necessary at first, but eventually Steve was the first to speak.

"I keep feeling like I need to do something," he said quietly. "Like I'm wasting time that I should be spending getting him back, but..."

"... But there's nothing you can do," Summer finished for him. For Steve in particular, that feeling of powerlessness had to be among the worst feelings in the entire world.

"It's not like we didn't always know this might happen," Steve muttered, slightly shaking his head. "It's just... I'd hoped it wouldn't. And definitely not like this."

Summer, still staring out the window, swallowed and then asked, "Do you think that there's _really_ a chance for him? I mean... _we_ know that it wasn't really him who killed all those people, but... we also love him. They don't."

"If Tony can forgive him for what he did to Howard," Steve said resolutely, "then the government can at least give him a fair trial."

"But will they?"

Steve looked away from the window then, looking Summer straight in the eye with all of the conviction in the world. "I'm gonna do everything in my power to make sure that they do. I can promise you that."

Summer nodded, tears stinging the back of her eyes. "But even if they do, it still might not make a difference."

"Summer," Steve said quietly but fiercely, turning to face her fully, "you can't think like that. _We_ can't think like that."

"But... realistically..."

"_Realistically_ he never should have survived falling off a train or remembered me after what HYDRA did to him, but he did," Steve reminded her. "He _did_. He's been through worse than this before. And he has all of us on the outside to make _sure_ that he gets through this too."

Summer nodded, sniffing back a tear trying to escape and wondering if Steve was actually this full of faith or merely too desperate to believe anything else. Regardless of how forced it might have been, she latched on to his optimism and clung to it for dear life.

"I don't know what I'd do if he didn't have you," Summer said. "I don't think I'd have hardly any hope if you weren't here to fight for him."

"I'm not just fighting for him," Steve told her sincerely.

Summer managed to give him a small, watery and grateful smile, and he thankfully pulled her into a hug before she started crying again. She held on to him tightly, soaking up the comfort for what it was and praying that they weren't both fools for trying to have some hope.

There was a lot that she didn't and _couldn't_ know yet about how all of this was going to unfold, but she did know that Steve would go to the ends of the earth to bring her husband back home. He'd done it before, and he'd do it again.

They both just had to hold on and not let being, for then, utterly powerless steal what hope they had.

* * *

It was hard but eventually Summer managed to get some sleep that night. Not a lot, but enough that when Adelaide woke her up the following morning by smacking her cheeks repeatedly with her determined little hand, she was able to wake up and stay up.

For the most part, Adelaide seemed perfectly fine. She wasn't yet one year old, so she was resilient and lucky enough to have a limited short term memory. She would miss her Daddy, of course, and the trauma of the night before wouldn't just go away and be forgotten so easily, but she was a baby. Babies bounced back the way older kids and adults just couldn't.

David was still sound asleep, so Summer let him be and quietly got up with Adelaide. He needed the rest, and she needed to call his school and let them know that he'd be out for at least a few days. There was a lot to do and it was already late morning, so after getting both herself and Adelaide into new clothes and brushing their teeth - Adelaide had about six of them now - she headed out out of her room and towards the kitchen.

She didn't quite make it to the kitchen, however, because the television in the living room and everyone standing in front of it stole her attention.

Steve, Natasha, Sam, Wanda and Tony were all there, Steve standing while the others sat. They were watching a live press conference, and after reading the scroll on the bottom identifying the man behind the podium as the director of the FBI, Summer got a very sick feeling in the pit of her gut at once.

Steve glanced at her once she walked into the living room, standing to his left and holding Adelaide on her hip. She looked at him and found that he looked as sick as she felt.

The headline on the bottom of the screen was _Winter Soldier in FBI custody._

"... So like I said, this has been a very long investigation with a lot of ups and downs and the trail went cold more than once," the director told the roomful of reporters. "It took a lot of cooperation from the CIA and other agencies, foreign intelligence too, but this case never stopped being a priority and we're very proud to have gotten this far."

He then signaled for another question, and while the reporter's question couldn't be heard on the TV, it wasn't hard to figure out what it had been.

"Well, that's one of the things that's being determined right now as we speak. There's a lot to consider. The White House is involved, the Attorney General's involved. It's not ultimately my decision. But we've been operating under the assumption that once we brought him in, he'd most likely be tried in a military tribunal, but like I said, it's still being determined. We've got awhile to go before we get there."

Summer looked at Steve, knowing that wasn't good. That was what they _didn't_ want.

Another reporter then asked another question, and the director nodded a few times before taking a breath and answering, "Yeah, yeah, that's correct. And again, I'll reiterate that nobody was harmed during the raid. We were very aware of the fact that he was living with a wife and kids and we wanted to make sure that we minimized the risks of any of them getting hurt."

At the mention of Bucky's wife and kids, the news scroll on the bottom ran across the screen with something that Summer had never expected to see on a cable news network under the words _breaking news_: her name, identifying her as the 29 year old wife of the now-incarcerated Winter Soldier.

It suddenly felt as if all the air had gone from the room. But things could still yet get worse, and they did.

As the FBI director continued to speak, the network then showed Bucky's mugshot on the left side of the screen. That was when Summer _really_ began to find it hard to breathe, and it was also when Adelaide pointed at the TV and exclaimed, "Da da!"

Every head in the room turned and every eye went to the little girl, who started squirming in Summer's arms and trying to get down. Summer set her down, and she immediately ran up to the TV, babbling about her daddy all the while and having no idea why his face was on that big screen.

Summer's heart felt like it breaking all over again, and not just because of how hard Adelaide was trying to reach her little hand up to touch Bucky's picture on the television. Even worse than that was the photo itself, and Bucky's face within it.

In the photo, he was in the same black t-shirt they'd taken him in, and his hair was still up but with quite a few pieces falling near his face, probably thanks to the rough handling of the agents. He looked angry, sad, regretful, and resigned all at the same time. To the average American tuning into the news, they might have thought this he looked merely defiant and unhappy about being arrested, but Summer could read him better than anyone and she could see the truth written on his face in plain English. He was _devastated_.

It was as she began to softly cry for what felt like the thousandth time in the last day that she felt a smaller hand take her own. It was David, awake now and staring at the TV too, as Adelaide continued to chant _da da_ and poke at the photo. Summer looked down at David, who was calm for the time being, and then she hugged him to her side before looking up at Steve.

Everything had changed in the course of just one night, and now everything was about to change even more. Summer's name was on the news, now and forever linked to one of the most feared assassins in American history. If she knew the way that the media worked, her kids' names would be next. Nothing would ever be the same again.

Steve's phone rang. He stepped away to answer it, leaving Summer to continue numbly listening to the FBI director drone on casually about the love of her life and how pleased he was to have Bucky in his custody. In Steve's absence, Tony got up and walked over to Summer and put a comforting hand on her upper arm.

"How you holding up, kid?" he asked quietly.

"I'm... I don't know," she replied honestly. "I don't think I can even comprehend right now what all of this means."

Tony nodded understandingly. "Well... I'm not gonna pretend that I can say a damn thing to make any of this better for you. But you're not alone. Anything you need, let me know."

Summer nodded. Tony's support, all things considered, meant a great deal to her. "Thank you."

Steve came back a moment later, putting his phone back into his pocket. "That was Sharon. I know who tipped off the Feds."

Summer didn't know who Sharon was, but her eyes flew to Steve and her ears perked right up. All eyes fell on Steve, who suddenly looked slightly murderous as he told the group, "It was Rumlow. Part of a plea deal that took the death penalty off the table and sent him to a medium security level prison instead of a maximum."

"All he knew was that Bucky was alive and working with us," Natasha pointed out.

Steve then looked at Summer apologetically and said, "I know. He didn't give them information on Bucky. He gave them _your_ name and told them you were the key to finding him."

Summer's heart fell in her chest all over again. "Oh _God_. The... my name was on the lease. His name wasn't on anything but mine was on _everything_."

Steve nodded. "They were watching you for weeks."

She thought that she might be sick. Still holding David's hand, Summer moved to one of the couches and sunk down on it, feeling lightheaded and processing this new information as best as she could, which wasn't very well.

It was too much. She felt like she was on the verge of being overwhelmed again, like the night before, though she couldn't afford to let it happen again. But how could she stop it?

David throwing his arms around her and squeezing her in his own version of a sweet and comforting hug ended up bringing her out of the fog. She hugged him back, holding him tight and looking over his shoulder to Adelaide, who was yelling in baby language at the TV because it was now on commercials and not showing pictures of her daddy anymore.

One of Bucky's old HYDRA handlers turned enemy whose life Bucky had spared during a fight just before his wedding to Summer had been the one to bring all of this about. And yet all Summer could think was that maybe, if they hadn't had the lease or the car or anything else that she'd signed her name upon, and if she'd stayed as under the radar as Bucky had, then maybe this wouldn't be happening. Maybe it _was_ her fault.

But it didn't matter if it really was her fault or not. She'd still blame herself, and she'd keep blaming herself until the day came when Bucky was back home and safe in her arms again.

_If_ that day came.

* * *

Of all the things in the world that Bucky hated most, the quiet was one of them. There were a few reasons for this, but chief among them was the fact that it was in pure, dead silence that his head became the loudest.

And here, in this underground cage that the FBI had thrown him into, all there _was_ was the quiet. Nothing but fluorescent lights, glass walls that even his metal arm couldn't punch through (he'd tried), and his mind screaming at him incessantly.

The cell was behind several walls and more than one guarded gate, accessible by only those in the government with the highest clearances. The cell itself, Bucky was pretty sure, had been built for the Hulk originally, because it was enormous and far too large for just one man, enhanced or not. It was a glorified prison cell with the basic functions needed to preserve a human being, only without the uncomfortable cot that even men on death row were allowed. He was apparently expected to sleep on the floor. He didn't care. He didn't plan on sleeping at all.

The first thing that they'd done upon bringing him to this hellhole in the middle of nowhere was thoroughly search him and put him in plain gray prison-style clothes. They even took away the hair tie that had been holding his hair up, because they couldn't apparently trust him with a couple of inches of elastic. After that, they'd re-shackled him and dragged him to a cold lab room, where his blood was drawn and a few doctors examined his metal arm with the intent of figuring out how to take it off. They couldn't figure it out, thankfully. They weren't exactly Tony Stark-level smart.

Then, after they'd had their fill of poking and prodding at him, they'd brought him here, to this cage. Then they'd left him alone, for a few hours at least. They came back awhile later, a man and then a woman, both trying to get him to talk. They wanted to know how much he could remember, how long he'd been working for Nick Fury, when he had met his wife, how many of the Avengers knew about him and hadn't reported him. He didn't let a single word or even a sound leave his lips.

The noise in his head was far louder than their voices or threats could have ever been.

He could still hear Adelaide's terrified cry in his ear, see David's big brown eyes full of fear, and feel as much as see Summer's entire world come crashing down all around her as they'd taken him away. His single greatest fear since the day that he'd begun to care for her was that he would eventually in some form or another end up hurting her, and that day had finally come. Not only had he brought this pain on her, but his kids had also been there to witness it all. And he couldn't take any of it back or undo it.

He'd been a fool. To think that he could ever truly escape his past, start over and be able to have a stable life and home with the woman he loved and the kids they were raising together... it had been merely a fleeting dream. This had always been his fate, one way or another. If not the American government, then it would have been some other one that he'd crossed, or maybe HYDRA. One couldn't be the most prolific assassin in modern history and not have a list of enemies a mile or two long.

One couldn't be the most prolific assassin in modern history and have a wife and kids waiting at home. Maybe in the movies, but in real life... in real life, _this_ was what had always been waiting for him.

He never should have let her kiss him. He never should have kissed her back. He never should have asked her out on a date, never should have fallen in love with her and become a father to her son. He never should have had the nerve to ask her to be his wife, never should have stood before God and their friends and family and let her pledge to love him and cherish him until death separated them. He never should have had the audacity to create a new life with her and put the burden of raising a wanted fugitive's baby on her shoulders.

But he _had_ done all those things. Despite the little nagging doubts and fears and apprehensions, he'd fallen in love with her and watched her family slowly become his family. Now here he was, where some small part of him had always known that he'd end up, and he wondered how the hell he could have been so _stupid._

He deserved this, the noise in his head told him. This was what happened to bad men. They always ran and tried to hide, but eventually their time would come to be held accountable and answer for their crimes. And _oh_, how many crimes there were. Each one was right there with him, if not in his memory then on his hands as a permanent bloodstain instead, keeping him company in that cell and reminding him of the truth that he'd been an idiot to ever think he could escape.

He just wasn't meant for the sun. He never had been, even back when he'd been a "hero". The shadows had staked their claim on him long ago, and they never liked to give up what had been theirs for so long. He'd always been the one to do the dirty work, whether for the Army or for Steve or for HYDRA, and men like that, men like _him_... they didn't get to have their day in the light like Steve.

They got this instead, sooner or later.

He also wasn't blind. He had no rights under the law, as far as his captors were concerned. They probably didn't recognize him as an American citizen, so he probably wouldn't even get a lawyer. He was legally dead ex-agent of the bloodiest arm of the KGB, killer of Presidents and scientists and anyone else who earned a spot on Soviet or HYDRA kill lists. What government would waste their time and money giving a man like that a fair trial? Even if they did, what did it matter? He was guilty and everyone knew it.

It was over. It was all over. And he would forever regret that his last words to Summer had been the first lie that he'd ever uttered to her - _It's gonna be okay_.

_Idiot_.

It was in the midst of these thoughts that one of the agents came back, the man, armed with what Bucky was guessing was breakfast. He couldn't be too sure, since he was underground and had no way of telling time, but if he had to guess, it was probably morning by then.

Food got delivered to the cell through a system similar to a bank drive thru, only much more high tech. The agent sent a single protein bar and bottle of water through the secure chute, then took a seat just outside of the cell as Bucky continued to sit in the middle of the floor and refuse to even look at the food.

The agent was younger, energetic, probably hotheaded too. Almost reminded Bucky of Steve when he was younger, only without the heart that made him the great man that he was.

"So," the man began, "the Director just had a press conference. Whole world knows now that we've got you. You're gonna be the top story on every news channel for awhile."

Bucky remained impassive, not even looking at the man. Why should he? They all knew what the Winter Soldier had done. Speaking was redundant.

"And this kind of surprised me, but they already released your wife's name, too."

Bucky's eyes snapped up. The agent almost smiled.

"Thought that would get your attention. It would have gotten leaked soon enough, anyway. Can't keep anything a secret anymore."

Bucky glowered at the man.

"Anyway, you should eat," he said, gesturing to the protein bar and water. "That's straight from the vending machine. Cost me two bucks." He paused and chuckled. "Two _bucks_. I crack myself up."

If Bucky had been able to puncture the cell, he might have chosen that moment to do it just so he could have punched the idiot in the face.

"But no, all kidding aside... look, believe it or not, we didn't bring you here to crucify you. We've all read your files. We all know you went through things that are pretty much... unimaginable. The thing is, though... justice still has to be served. Just because I feel bad for you, it doesn't mean we can let you go and let _dozens_ of crimes go unanswered. You understand that."

He did. But he still didn't acknowledge the man one way or another.

"I'm sure you think you're making some kind of statement by not talking and not eating, but... you're really just delaying the inevitable," the man said, standing up. "I'll let you think about it for awhile. Enough time alone down here and _everyone_ sings eventually."

Bucky kept his eyes fixed to the floor as the agent then left, the steel doors slamming shut behind him. Bucky was alone again, save for the security cameras surrounding and inside the cell and the ghosts haunting his head.

It was quiet again. He _hated_ the quiet. Back home there was always some kind of background noise - movies, video games, air conditioning, Summer tinkering around in the kitchen, Adelaide babbling or squeaking happily, David methodically building a skyscraper out of tiny Legos. His mind could never get too loud there, because there was always something keeping him in the present, keeping him focused.

Here, there was none of that. Here there was only silence and hour after hour of nothing to do or think about besides the terrible deeds that had placed him in this cell and the family that he'd been ripped away from.

There was also time, and an abundance of it. Just the day before, he'd had a life and work and a schedule that was always full and left him with hardly enough downtime to sit around and get lost in the shadows of his mind the way that he used to.

But, as he continued to convince himself... this was what he deserved. This was what had always been coming. This was his fate, and he knew better than to hold out hope that this would end in anything other than his death. His crimes were simply too great, too terrible, and too numerous.

If he could have had the chance to do over those last words that he'd said to Summer, he wouldn't have lied to her and told her that everything was going to be okay. He would have taken her in his arms, Feds be damned, and begged her with everything he had within in him to forgive him. He didn't deserve her forgiveness, but if she had given it to him, it would have meant one less voice screeching in his head.

He sat there, on the floor in the center of the cell, ignoring the food and water sitting to his left, ignoring the cameras watching him, stuck in a thousand yard stare that he couldn't break.

His missed his wife. He missed his son. He missed his baby. He missed his best friend. He missed Natasha and Sam and Wanda and everyone that had accepted him despite what he had done, despite who he'd been. He missed living in that blissful fantasy that had shattered the moment the authorities surrounded him and his kids in his own living room.

On the outside, he'd never break for them. They'd never get a single word from his lips. But on the inside, he had been broken from the very second that they had taken him away.


	53. Chapter 53

If the first day following Bucky's arrest was difficult, the first month was hellish in nearly every sense of the word.

As Summer's shock wore off and reality began to set in with all of its unforgivingly harsh truths, she did her best to stay afloat in the face of growing adversity. Within hours of her name being released on the news, cable news networks began debating who the mysterious wife of the Winter Soldier was. Photos of her were shown on the corner of the screen next to Bucky's mugshot, and website after website plastered the same photos above pieces speculating on just how a seemingly simple girl from Virginia ended up married to the most prolific assassin of the century.

The photos of her came from old social media profiles she'd never bothered to delete and even older yearbook photos, but as outdated as they were, they were still clear depictions of her face and they were _everywhere_. Not much was known about her to the general public, but news outlets were quick to dig up the basics - that she was 29, a mother of two, online college graduate, and an employee at Stark Industries. They hadn't uncovered her pen name or the novel she'd published under it, and the kids' names hadn't been divulged yet either, but Summer figured those things were likely a matter of time.

She decided to temporarily cope with these things by staying in the tower and never leaving. She also decided to take David out of school as a pre-emptive measure, since she could only imagine what would happen to him once his teachers and the other kids found out who his father was. He wasn't happy about that, nor about anything else, and his moods hadn't been so tedious in years. Just the slightest upset to his day would send him spiraling, and there was only so much Summer could do to help him. Adelaide was better but she wasn't sleeping quite as soundly and she greatly missed her Daddy, and neither child fully understood why he was gone.

But the three of them were hanging on. Pepper gave Summer time off from work so that she could devote her time to finding a good lawyer and figuring out how to navigate the new dire straits of her life. She had her things moved completely out of her home and into the tower, breaking the lease which was the very least of her concerns. Meanwhile, she and Steve worked more closely together than they ever had before. He helped her in every way that he could, interviewing a couple of lawyers with her and also keeping her constantly updated on the efforts by him and others to get Bucky moved from his undisclosed location and into a real governmental facility.

Steve's contact inside the CIA was helping them, along with Nick Fury and a few other high-up officials who were doing their best to pressure or persuade the FBI to charge Bucky as a civilian rather than a foreign terrorist. Their efforts weren't getting them very far as of yet, but they were also attempting to persuade others in power - senators, congressmen and women, and high ranking military officials - to back them in their calls for Bucky's history as a fallen war hero and ex-POW to be honored. Steve had released a public statement saying as much, and he'd agreed to a slew of coming interviews all over the network news circuit. It was all part of a concerted effort to not proclaim Bucky's innocence but rather at the very least give him a fair shake and a day in court.

And Summer, being the slight masochist that she was, spent the little free time she had reading pages upon pages of comments and debates online regarding her husband. There were those who felt that his crimes spoke for themselves and that he was getting what he deserved at last. Others noted the leaked files that spoke of his brainwashing and cryo-freezes and wondered if he hadn't been fully to blame for what he did. Those people supported giving him a fair trial. The others didn't want to waste the time and money and preferred he go straight to the electric chair or lethal injection.

One thing was certain: Bucky was the year's biggest news story by far, and the fact that he'd been taken from a house in the suburbs where he lived with a wife and two kids only raised interest in what was already a huge story. Comprehending the sheer scope of it all made Summer's head want to explode.

She was barely sleeping. She would fall asleep late and wake early, and she felt completely useless. Steve was all but campaigning for Bucky and the others were helping him to do so, but all Summer felt like all she was doing was choosing the absolute worst lawyers to interview and making life harder for everyone else, convinced that she and her kids were a burden on them even when they insisted that she wasn't.

A full four weeks after Bucky had been arrested, Summer was sitting at the big kitchen table in the midst of the communal floor, sipping on an enormous cup of coffee and reading through lists of more defense attorneys on her phone. The kids were still asleep - it was eight in the morning and David always reverted to sleeping in when school wasn't a factor - and while she would have found such a morning to be relaxing and nice under normal circumstances, this morning and every other one was the complete opposite of relaxing. The minute she woke up for the day, her stomach was already twisted in knots and a vague sense of nausea would stick with her the entire day, making eating almost impossible.

She wasn't pregnant. She'd checked. She was simply full of almost debilitating anxiety.

And that day, her anxiety was in for an even bigger blow. The private elevator across the floor dinged, and the doors opened to reveal Steve arguing with a woman Summer had never seen before.

Summer swiveled in her seat and furrowed her brows, watching as Steve muttered mid-sentence, "... Can't be legal, especially at a time like this when they're already -"

"It's completely legal, Captain, and if you don't mind, I'll take it from here," the woman replied, dressed smartly in a pantsuit and clutching a tablet under her arm as she walked into the large, otherwise empty room and instantly laid eyes on Summer.

Summer looked at Steve, who looked absolutely aghast and very apologetic. Her stomach dropped, and as the woman walked up to her and put on a smile as she held out her right hand, Summer knew that this just had to be bad.

"Hi, I'm Margo Davis and I'm with the New York City Department of Children and Families," she said cordially, apparently expecting Summer to shake her hand.

If Summer had managed to eat anything that morning, she just might have vomited on the woman's shoes at that point. "Oh," she said dumbly, shaking the offered hand and feeling like she just might start crying and never stop at this point.

"You are Summer Barnes, correct?"

She nodded. "Yeah,"

"Okay. And this is where you're currently residing with your two children?"

"I... yeah, we just had our things moved here a few days ago, but -"

"Okay. I'm sorry to drop in on you like this, but I'm afraid that this is protocol in situations like yours."

Summer tried to swallow but her throat was too dry. "My situation."

"Yes," _Margo_ nodded.

Now standing next to Summer, Steve said, "I just don't see why you couldn't have called first. You have no idea what this woman's been through in the last week, and -"

Margo, a woman in her forties with short blonde hair who'd clearly seen way too much during her career, stared at Steve dead on and said, "Once again, while I understand your concern, I'm not here to harass her or her kids. I'm only here to make sure that the welfare of the children is being seen to and that they're in a safe and healthy environment."

"Even though you have no reason to think they're _not_ in one?" Steve retorted. Summer had the fleeting thought that wherever he was, Bucky would be greatly appreciative of Steve's efforts to look after his family in his absence.

"With all due respect," she replied with slight false sweetness, "my reason for being here is frankly obvious."

"It's fine," Summer said quietly, taking a breath and trying to mentally calm herself down. "I understand. I probably should have expected this."

"I did try to call you yesterday," the social worker said to Summer. "But I could only find your home phone number and as I quickly figured out, you've moved _here_."

"Oh. Yeah, we just got our things moved here. I didn't feel very safe going back home, considering my name's all over the news."

"Understandable," Margo nodded, seemingly meaning it.

"I would feel a lot more comfortable with this if you had a lawyer with you," Steve said to Summer quietly, still clearly highly opposed to the entire situation.

"There's no need for a lawyer," the woman said. "Believe it or not, when I knock on someone's door I don't do it with the intent of breaking up families. We try to keep families together. That's our goal. And we try to get help and resources to families that need it."

Summer wanted to believe that, but it was hard to see the woman as anything other than the latest boogeyman coming to further fracture her family.

Still, she nodded again and squared her shoulders with a mostly false sense of courage, and then said, "Let's get this over with."

Summer, not having much experience with child services, wasn't sure what _this_ would entail, but she soon found out. Margo essentially took a tour around the communal area of the tower, Summer and Steve following her every step of the way, and the woman checked things like how safe the general living area was, how much food was in the enormous industrial sized refrigerator and, naturally, how much of it belonged to Summer and her kids. She also hit Summer with a barrage of questions ranging from when the kids' last doctor visits had been, if they were up to date on their shots, and how they were doing with hitting their developmental milestones.

Summer had a lot to explain and not nearly enough time to do it in. There was David's autism and various therapies and testaments she'd tried in the past, his rather impressive success at school and the fact that he's taught himself how to play piano and had further excelled with a teacher. Margo had also pieced together that David was not Bucky's biological child, so there was _that_ to explain as well, and that was when things got a bit dicier. Summer herself wasn't even sure how the adoption had gone through, and she didn't want to incriminate herself or Tony who she knew had called in a favor with a judge to get it approved quietly.

Then, after all of _that_, the kids woke up. David awoke to a strange woman waiting in the kitchen to speak to him, and she conducted an "interview" with him while Summer fed him and his baby sister breakfast. David, of course, said nothing, and he mostly refused to even acknowledge the social worker's presence and spurned all eye contact with anyone.

"Sorry," Summer said when it became clear that David was going to do nothing but glare at his bowl of cereal. Holding Adelaide on her hip, she added, "He's just been through a lot and it's all been really hard on him. When he has a hard time, he just kind of... retreats into himself."

Margo nodded. "Not unusual considering his condition. You said you pulled him out of school?"

"Just for now," Summer replied. "Until I figure things out."

"Can't keep him out too long," Margo noted, glancing at her tablet and typing something. "Kids like him need the stability and routine of school."

"Trust me, I know," Summer replied, trying to keep her irritation under control. "But he also needs to be safe, and that's why I'm keeping him close for now."

Margo then tucked the tablet back under her arm, glanced at both children, and then nodded shortly. "All right, well... I got what I came for. I'll get out of your hair now."

Summer blinked. "Really? Are you... did I... did we..."

Knowing what she was trying to ask, the social worker replied, "Like I said, Mrs. Barnes, I didn't come here to harass you or break up your family. This visit was protocol."

"But what about... in the future? Will there be more visits?"

"Yes," Margo nodded. "Your case will be open with us indefinitely."

_Fantastic_. As if Summer didn't have enough hanging over her head, now she got to face the constant threat of DCF looking over her shoulder. And as reasonable as the social worker seemed to be, Summer was not stupid and she knew that she would likely not be treated fairly thanks to any number of fairly obvious reasons.

Steve still at her side, Summer politely bade the woman farewell and watched her walk out of the room and head back into the elevator. When the doors closed and she was finally gone, Summer's shoulders dropped and she all but collapsed in one of the chairs, full of short-term relief even though she knew it was only the start of yet another long-term problem.

"You okay?" Steve asked, sitting down in the chair next to her and looking on sympathetically.

"No," she shook her head. "This is just... I swear, whenever I think something can't get worse, it does. I can't even properly freak out right now the way that I want to. This is basically my worst nightmare, having my kids..." She cut herself off before she could say _maybe taken away from me_, because David didn't need to hear that. He didn't need to add the fear of being taken from Summer on top of everything else.

"Well, we're not gonna let that happen," Steve said, his tone full of conviction.

Summer looked up at him, trying to muster up a smile and also trying to bat Adelaide's hands away from her shirt. The baby had, in the last few days, decided that one of her favorite pastimes was yanking Summer's shirts down, and while that was fine in the privacy of their own room, it really did get old trying to keep from accidentally flashing everyone, including Steve. "I hope so."

Steve gave her a tight smile and then checked the watch on his left wrist. "You might want to head back to your room soon with the kids. I'm doing an interview in an hour and the news crew will be here soon."

"Really? They're coming here?"

"Yeah, I'm talking to them over a satellite," Steve shrugged. "Like a talking head."

"Oh," Summer nodded. "So... this the start of your media blitz?"

Steve sighed and sat back in his seat, staring off wearily. "Yeah, I guess so. I don't have a lot of pull with the guys in power, so... basically, we decided that I take on the media and Fury takes on Washington."

"Has he had any luck yet?" Summer asked, not expecting a positive answer.

"Well, I'll find out in about... half an hour," Steve said after checking his watch again. "He flew to D.C. last night and is meeting with the President as we speak."

Summer's eyes widened. "The President?!"

Steve nodded. "And the Attorney General."

Summer drew a breath and found it hard to wrap her head around it all. Life with Bucky had gotten so domestic and _normal_ that it had been easy to almost forget what he'd done in the past and how very _huge_ his crimes had been. They were so big that his boss had to meet with the freaking President of the United States just to try to get him a trial of his peers.

Steve's hand on her shoulder interrupted her thoughts. "This isn't over, Summer. None of us are giving up."

"I know," she smiled. "I just... something good needs to happen soon or I might lose it."

"Well, we're working on it," Steve replied before his phone made a noise. He looked at it and then said, "That's the news crew. They're on their way."

"I'll be going back into hiding, then," Summer nodded, getting up from the table. "Keep me updated on the whole... President thing."

"Will do," Steve nodded back. "And if you want to watch the interview, it'll be live on CNN."

"I'll be watching," Summer replied, hustling the kids back towards the hallway. "Good luck."

"Thanks," he replied with a half-hearted smile of his own. Summer smiled back, taking no comfort in knowing that Steve was basically just as miserable as she was. But without him, she wasn't sure how she would have coped.

After grabbing a few drinks and snacks for the kids and then getting them back to their room, Summer shut the door and set Adelaide down on the floor. David went straight to his little corner of the room, where his toys and tablet and other favorite things were, and Adelaide set off towards her own toys, leaving Summer standing there alone just long enough for it to hit her how very lost she truly felt.

If Bucky knew that DCF had been there to visit them and that they now had an open case that could eventually result in her losing their kids, she couldn't even imagine the kind of reaction he'd have. It was hard enough to lose him and not know if or when she'd get him back, but if she lost her _kids_... she didn't think it was overdramatic to think that she might not recover from that.

She just couldn't dwell on those things. She had to keep moving, and that meant going about business as usual and getting back to one of her primary tasks, which was looking for a decent lawyer.

She got settled in her bed, sitting up with her computer on her lap and a notebook and pen at her side. She turned on CNN on the television on the wall, then kept one eye on the kids while she began searching lists of prominent defense attorneys in the city of New York.

Steve was giving live interviews on CNN and Nick Fury was trying to persuade the most powerful man in America to have Bucky charged as a civilian, and yet all she could do was sit in her bed and search yellow page listings for lawyers. She didn't just feel useless - she felt fairly close to a waste of space. She was supposed to be the most important person in Bucky's life, and yet she could do absolutely nothing of real value to help him.

She was staring blankly at the phone number of some random law firm when the news anchor's voice on the television grabbed her attention. Her head snapped up and she swallowed as Steve's interview began, and nothing stole her attention until it was over.

Adelaide came scampering into her lap after the interview began, chomping on a toy and pointing at the TV and exclaiming _dada! _when Bucky's mugshot was, inevitably, flashed on the screen. Summer had seen it so many times by now that it almost wasn't a stab to the heart anymore. _Almost_.

Within the first few moments, Summer found herself incredibly impressed with Steve. This was a man that she'd seen stutter in front of Natasha and trip over his own words as badly as Summer herself did, depending on the situation, and yet the Steve that she saw on the television was the man in his element. He was eloquent, clear, succinct, and not lacking one ounce of conviction. He wasn't on a battlefield, but he was fighting all the same, and he was fighting for someone that he'd follow to the ends of the earth.

"You know, Captain," the anchor said after a few minutes had passed, "there's more than a few people saying that maybe your friend isn't the only one who should be locked up. Apparently, based on what we know now, you and the rest of the Avengers were hiding and protecting a fugitive for several _years_. You're a pretty black and white kind of guy - what do you say to that? Can you even argue that you _haven't_ broken the law?"

"Well, to be honest," Steve replied, "you're right that I'm pretty black and white as far as right and wrong and what I believe. And if the authorities think that I broke the law, or that any of us broke the law, they know where to find us. We're not hiding from anyone. The issue here is that they're pinning crimes on an innocent man and not even letting him have a day in court. That's all we want."

"That's all you want? A trial, for the Winter Soldier?" the anchor asked.

"Yes, absolutely, because I am 100% confident that if he has his day in court, we can prove far beyond a reasonable doubt that he's innocent."

"Now when you say _innocent_ -"

"I mean innocent," Steve replied firmly.

"So do you deny what the HYDRA file leak revealed, that the Winter Soldier was responsible for the deaths of JFK, Howard Stark, almost two dozen others at _least_?"

"I do deny that he was _responsible_," Steve answered. "He was HYDRA's gun. They pulled the trigger. Those same files you're talking about also tell in great detail the things that they did to him to force his cooperation."

"Well, and there's what makes this case so uniquely complicated," the anchor agreed. "But there's a lot of people in this country who feel that _someone_ has to pay for these crimes."

"They're right, someone should," Steve replied. "But it should be the people who are actually _guilty_. And like I said, all I want - all _we_ want - is a fair trial. We just want what he's entitled to under the Constitution. And if the government thinks they've got an airtight case, they shouldn't be afraid of giving him that."

"Understood," the anchor nodded, glancing down at the papers on his desk. "You know, this entire process has just been such a shock to so many people - finding out that HYDRA had been infiltrating SHIELD for years, and that the conspiracy theorists were right and that Oswald _didn't_ shoot Kennedy. Now we get yet another shock, because it turns out this... extremely prolific, very _old_ assassin has been living under our noses with a wife and kids in New York all this time."

"Well, look," Steve began with a slight shake of his head, "I'm not going to comment on his family because they're completely innocent in all of this and they're having a hard enough time as it is. I _strongly_ disagree with the Bureau releasing his wife's name - I'm still shocked that they even did that."

"Well, for what it's worth, I agree with you," the anchor said.

"It's not right," Steve shook his head. "Like I said, she's completely innocent in this and she doesn't deserve the media dragging her name through the mud. She's become a really good friend of mine and she's a great mother, great person, and that's all I'm willing to say about her."

Summer took a breath and a touch of a smile spread on her lips. As if it was possible to love Steve even more than she already did...

"Fair enough," the anchor nodded respectfully. "One other thing I wanted to ask you about was your friend Tony Stark. He was silent for a few days following the arrest, but he finally released a statement yesterday seemingly in support of Barnes, and I have to ask - considering the nature of his father's death, does it surprise you that he's not out on the front line demanding your friend's head?"

"No, not at all," Steve replied. "Tony's, he's... we didn't start out the best of friends, but we've been through a lot together. He's a great man and I have nothing but respect for him, so no, it doesn't surprise me that he understands the nature of what Bucky went through and why things happened the way that they did. I mean, I can't speak for him, obviously, but I think that if _he_ can see the real story and understand where the real blame lies, then we all should."

Summer, hugging Adelaide close, glanced away from the TV towards David. He was still sitting on the floor with his toys, but he was intently watching the television as well. Summer wondered just how much he could understand of all of this, but knowing David and how smart he was... he likely understood it all _very_ well.

The interview ended a few moments later and the station cut to a commercial. Summer let out a breath and then gave Adelaide a smile when she turned her little head around to look at her and give her a cute giggle. She kissed the baby's cheek and then briefly closed her eyes before turning off the TV. She didn't want to see or hear anything else.

A little over an hour passed. Her stomach was growling but she still felt too nauseous to eat anything, so she ignored the hunger as she continued to browse law firms. Adelaide ended up getting off the bed and toddling over to David, and they were playing together when there was suddenly a thunderous knock on Summer's door.

She nearly screamed and jumped a foot into the air, but she relaxed when it ended up just being Steve. He opened the door looking like he was out of breath and a little crazy, all but exclaiming, "Summer, turn on the TV!"

Thinking the absolute worst at first, she scrambled for the remote and quickly turned the TV back on. David's attention was on the television as well as she turned it on, and though even he expected something bad, what they saw was the complete opposite of what they expected.

On the bottom of the screen underneath the obligatory "breaking news" banner were the words "_Winter Soldier" James Barnes to face charges as American citizen_, and playing live above those words was a feed of the front of the FBI headquarters in New York. It was empty for the moment, but Summer barely noticed it. All she could see were the words and what they meant.

She got up from the bed and walked closer to the TV, as if she had to get physically closer to it believe it. "They're... is that true?"

Steve nodded, looking genuinely and not forcibly hopeful for once. He was even smiling a little bit, and that wasn't forced either. "Yeah. I just got off the phone with Fury. They're moving him here to the city and they're gonna formally charge him. They have to set a court date first, but... this is what we wanted."

Summer wheeled around and looked at Steve before breaking out into a smile and launching herself at him in a fierce hug. Bucky might not have been free, but this was _huge_ and the very best news that they could have realistically hoped for.

"Oh my God, Steve!" she exclaimed as she squeezed him. "I can't believe it!"

"Me either," he admitted, pulling away and looking immensely relieved. "I don't have all the details yet, but apparently it was his service in the war that did it. Nick said the President was already almost on our side, that it was the Attorney General who needed convincing."

"And he convinced him?"

"Looks that way."

Summer could have fainted with relief. "So this means he'll get a trial? A real trial?"

"That's exactly what it means," Steve nodded, "so we need to hire a good lawyer as soon as possible."

"Right," she nodded seriously before glancing over at the TV screen, which was still showing a live feed of the FBI headquarters. "Why are they showing that? Is that where they're taking him?"

"Yeah, for now," Steve nodded. "They have holding cells there built for enhanced people."

Summer nodded, then turned back to Steve and asked, "Will I be able to see him? Visit him?"

"I don't know yet," Steve replied. "Let me make some more calls and figure out some more stuff. I promise you'll be the first to know everything."

"Okay," Summer nodded, squeezing in one more hug before watching him essentially sprint out of her room with his phone in hand.

She sat back down on the edge of her bed, feeling more hopeful than she had dared to even try to feel since all of this had started. Bucky was getting a trial, a real trial of his peers, and surely a jury could be convinced of his innocence. Maybe, just maybe, they had a real shot at this after all.

Maybe all was not lost just yet.

* * *

On the news and on the vast and volatile environment of the Internet, reactions to the news were mixed. Some felt that it was only right that Bucky would get a full and fair trial, while others felt that the decision was ridiculous and only happened due to some kind of perceived special treatment of the Avengers. For the first time, however, Summer didn't care one bit what anybody thought.

That afternoon, Bucky was transferred from his previous undisclosed location to the FBI building in New York City. There was no clear footage of him being escorted into the building, but there was a grainy aerial video released of it that Summer watched about ten times in a row. She could only faintly make him out, wearing what looked like plain gray prison-style clothes and his hair loose around his head. After that, one of the lead investigators gave a short statement to the press that didn't really say anything new, only that the investigation was ongoing and they were still working on it, and that was the end of that day's breaking news.

Summer wasn't able to visit Bucky that day, but Steve managed to talk his way into being allowed a brief visit himself. Summer told him to tell Bucky that she loved him and that the kids were fine and they were all working on getting him home, and Steve assured her that he would pass the message along before heading out of the tower.

Natasha left with Steve and Tony wasn't around either, and Sam and Vision were busy working that night at the facility. That left Summer and the kids mostly alone aside from Wanda, who Summer didn't even realize was there until she headed into the kitchen to make herself and the kids a slightly late dinner.

Wanda was carrying a handful of candles out from her room towards the kitchen when Summer noticed her. Throwing some leftovers into the microwave, Summer smiled and said, "Oh, hey! I thought you were working tonight."

"No, not tonight," Wanda replied, giving David a smile when he perked up some upon seeing her. He was sitting at the table, playing with an action figure while Adelaide sat in a high chair next to him, smacking the tray happily. "Have you heard from Steve yet?"

"Not yet," Summer replied. "But hopefully soon."

A few minutes later, when the food was heated through and David and Adelaide both had their dinners sitting in front of them, Summer glanced over at Wanda again and ended up staring at her in a slight stupor.

She'd been carrying candles from her room to place them in a drawer in the living room and put one in a silver menorah that she'd just set up in one of the windows. Was it really that time of year and had Summer really forgotten all about it?

She checked her phone for the date and found that she had indeed forgotten entirely about the start of Hanukkah. Her grandmother would have been highly ashamed.

"Oh man," Summer muttered, glancing at the kids and making sure they were still good before she headed over to the window. "I totally forgot that Hanukkah starts tonight."

"Well, I think you have a good excuse," Wanda said with a small, understanding smile, putting one lone white candle in the furthest holder on the right. "You have been _more_ than preoccupied."

"Yeah, but still," Summer sighed. "David loves Hanukkah. And this will be Adelaide's first."

"True," Wanda replied. "I always loved it when I was little. My parents felt that the holiday had been commercialized and turned into a substitute for Christmas," she smiled, "so my brother and I never got gifts. I didn't really mind, but Pietro, he would tell all of our friends and try to guilt their parents into buying us things since ours wouldn't."

Summer grinned and asked, "Did it work?"

"Sometimes," Wanda nodded, smiling fondly at the memory. "He had this charm and he always knew how to use it, even as a child just trying to get new toys."

"Sounds dangerous," Summer chuckled.

"Very," Wanda smiled, looking past the menorah to the city outside the window. "And he always found something to give me each night. Whether it was a piece of chocolate or some little trinket, he always thought of me." Then she refocused her gaze back on the menorah and explained, "This belonged to my grandparents. It had been in the family forever. They hid it under the floorboards during the war."

"Were they taken?" Summer asked quietly. Wanda nodded.

"Yes. My grandfather lost his mother, father, and all three of his sisters. He was the only one who survived. Then when he came back to his home after the Allies won, this was still there, under the floorboards."

"Wow," Summer marveled, looking at the menorah. It looked its age but that only made it even more of a symbol of what it stood for, in Summer's eyes, and something like that surviving wars and so many years was incredible.

"This also survived the bombing that killed my parents," Wanda added. "Pietro would light it for us every year after that. I didn't want to. Things like that have a way of making you lose your faith."

"Oh yeah," Summer agreed. "But you got it back?"

"I don't think I ever _really_ lost it. I was just too angry to realize it," Wanda replied. "Would you like to light it?"

"Oh, gosh," Summer said with slight surprise. "All that family history... no, I think you should. I wouldn't feel right doing it."

"But this tower," Wanda said, gesturing to the walls, "and the people in it are the only family that I have now."

Wanda then handed Summer the shamash candle that would be used to light the sole Hanukkah candle, and Summer looked at her as if to make sure that it really was okay. When Wanda merely gave her a look like she was being exceedingly silly, Summer took the candle and smiled.

Wanda then recited the traditional Hebrew prayers for the first night of Hanukkah far better than Summer could ever hope to, and after Summer lit the candle, she took a deep breath and hoped against hope that maybe she could get a miracle of her own. Though the day had been a pretty good one and they'd won the first battle, winning the war seemed like it would take nothing short of a real, genuine miracle.

But miracles were exactly what the candle burning in the window commemorated, and Summer couldn't lose her faith now. She needed it more than she ever had before.

"You know," Summer said quietly, smiling at the other woman, "I'm really glad you're around."

Wanda simply smiled back, echoing the sentiment back through her green eyes, and Summer hoped as she turned back to the window and gazed out of it that Bucky, though he was still far from home, hadn't lost hope himself.

* * *

That night, Summer stayed up late waiting for Steve to get home. When he finally did, she all but tackled him at the door while shooting questions a mile a minute, but soon she got to hear exactly what she'd been hoping for: that Bucky was okay, that Steve had given him her message, and that yes, he had arranged for Summer to visit him in the morning.

She thought that she'd be able to sleep after having had a pretty decent day compared to all the other recent ones, but as it turned out, she barely slept a wink. She was wired and her mind was racing, anticipating her trip to the FBI building the next day and all of the other things that needed to be considered now that he was officially getting a trial. A date for a hearing hadn't been set yet and she had no idea how long even getting a trial started would take, but wondering about such things was far better than wondering if she'd ever see him again.

When morning came, Summer got up and with newfound energy began getting herself ready for the day. Paul was coming by to pick up the kids and take them for her, making her life that day much easier, as she couldn't even imagine trying to wrangle both kids through such an official, intimidating building as the one that Bucky was being held at.

She was still too nervous to eat a decent breakfast, so instead she downed an enormous cup of coffee after she was ready and waiting for Paul to show up. She was all aflutter with energy, anxious to see her husband for the first time since he'd been taken and equally afraid for his mental state. Steve had said that he was hanging in there, but she knew Bucky and she could only imagine the havoc that all of this had wreaked upon him. She'd bet anything that he hadn't slept and he probably wasn't eating either, and most of his waking hours were probably spent in a perpetual state of self loathing and fear for the family he'd been ripped away from.

And that, if she was right, was what she hated more than anything. He'd come so far and had reached what was for him a true state of peace, only to have this happen and likely plunge him right back into hell. It wasn't right.

But she tried her best to put those thoughts aside when Paul arrived to take the kids. She kissed them goodbye and gave Paul a huge bag of supplies for them, thanked him profusely for his help, and then watched him drive them off towards his house about an hour away.

Then it was time to leave. Steve, who had immediately volunteered to take her to the FBI building, wasted no time in getting her into a car and getting them on the road.

On the way, Summer's mind ran amok.

"How long did you talk to him last night?"

Eyes on the road, Steve replied, "Not long. Like I said, maybe five minutes at the most."

"Did he look okay? Did he look like he's been sleeping?"

Steve hesitated before glancing at Summer and saying, "He looked okay, but I doubt he's been sleeping. You know how he is. How he gets when..."

Summer nodded, sighing and looking out the window sightlessly, not really seeing the tall buildings that lined the streets as they passed them. "I just... I want to see him _so bad_ but at the same time I'm scared because... I don't know. I don't want to make it worse."

"You won't," Steve replied. "Right now he needs to know that's there's hope and he needs to remember what he has to fight for."

Those words were the last ones Steve uttered before they arrived at their destination. The FBI building was large and there was a slew of reporters all lined at the front of the building, still reporting on the case and trying to gain new info, and while Summer had expected to go in through some secretive back door, apparently they had to go in through the front.

After putting the car in the parking garage, Steve explained, "I don't have a lot of pull here, so we won't be getting any special treatment. Just stay close to me and keep your head down until we get inside, okay?"

"Okay," Summer nodded as she opened the car door and got out. "I should have gotten one of those giant pairs of sunglasses that celebrities wear when they try to get past the paparazzi."

Steve smiled a little as he replied, "Yeah, I'm pretty sure they'd still know who you are."

He was probably right. In any case, Summer stuck to his side as he instructed and did her best to avoid eye contact as they made their way inside.

The minute the reporters recognized Steve, they all began throwing very loud and overlapping questions at him. Cameras turned on them as they kept walking, and Steve remained stoic but not impolite as he simply looked at the reporters and told them a neutral _no comment_.

Summer, on the other hand, kept her mouth shut tight as questions were shouted at her the minute it became clear who she was.

"Are you the Winter Soldier's wife?"

"What would you say to those who think a trial is a waste of time?"

"How are the kids holding up?"

"What's it like being married to one of the most famous assassins in history?"

She ignored every word they said and, after nearly sprinting to keep up with Steve's power-walk to the entrance, she walked through the front doors with him and escaped the voices and cameras.

"Good job," Steve told her, just before they went through the motions of entering a highly secure federal building.

It wasn't much different to entering the Avengers facility. They were searched and put through scanners that were almost disturbing in how thoroughly they searched both Steve and Summer for any manner of weapons or other banned items, and after _that_, it was simply a matter of staying quiet next to Steve while he did all the talking for them both. He got them both badges that would get them where they needed to go, and then they were escorted to a waiting room where they would sit and await the arrival of the same agent who has overseen Steve's visit the night before.

Summer's heart was pounding and she was nearly trembling with anticipation, expecting to be taken back to see him any minute. But instead, they waited in that room, alone, no less than an hour and a half. It was just long enough to get the message across that the Bureau and the people running the investigation thought very little of the both of them and had far greater priorities than allowing visits to their most prolific detainee.

But when the agent finally did show up, it was a woman who spoke in clipped tones and seemed bored from the moment she came to fetch them. She eyed Steve like she was already sick of him and Summer like she was either an annoying insect buzzing about or simply someone hardly worth her valuable time.

Summer, of course, couldn't have cared less and neither did Steve.

"So," the woman said, leading them out of the room towards a pair of elevators down a relatively long hallway behind two guarded doors, "Captain, you already know the rules, but I'll say them again for _her_. The detainee is being held in a very secure cell underneath the building, which is where I am taking you both now. You will be taken to a room where you can communicate with him through a glass window and a phone, like in a regular prison, and you will have exactly five minutes to speak to him. No more, no less."

They stepped inside the elevators and Summer's anxiety spiked. She looked at Steve, and he gave her an almost imperceptible nod. She took a deep breath and tried to draw on his strength and borrow some for herself.

"And please keep in mind that we are under no obligation to allow these visits," the agent said, eyeing Summer as she said this. "Try anything or fight the time limit and this will be the last time you step foot in this building."

Summer nodded. "I understand."

"Good," the agent said as the doors opened and she led them forward. "This way."

_This way_ was down another corridor to another set of elevators, taken two more levels down and through another secure set of doors that the agent opened for them. Another corridor and two left turns later, the agent opened a door and stepped aside as she motioned for Summer to enter. "Go on and have a seat. I'll be watching and listening from the next room."

Summer nodded, looking into the room and then glancing at Steve. He gave her a tight smile and patted her shoulder, then said, "I'll be here when you're done."

"Okay," she replied, giving him a tiny smile back before walking on into the room. She jumped a little when the door closed nosily behind her.

The whole set up really did look like what she'd seen in the movies as far as prison visits, what with the single chair in front of a big glass window and a phone hanging on the side. She would have expected something more high tech, but just as long as she got to see Bucky and speak to him, she didn't care where or how it happened.

She took a seat in the chair and then looked around, wondering how many cameras were on her. That perpetually unimpressed agent was watching with Steve in a neighboring room, apparently, and while she hadn't expected privacy, she couldn't pretend that the whole thing didn't feel odd and uncomfortable.

But then she heard the sound of a door being opened and shackles clinking on the other side of the glass, and she looked through it and felt her heart nearly burst right out of her chest. Not one or two or even three but four highly armed guards had opened the door on the other side and were now leading a weary and stoic Bucky through it.

He looked up from where he'd been staring a hole the ground and then looked at the glass, and their eyes met. Her heart _jumped_ and his entire expression changed, going from stony and blank to surprised and maybe even stunned as his eyebrows lifted slightly and his lips parted.

He was marched to the chair and then not entirely gently shoved down on it, one of the guards muttering _five minutes_ before joining the others near the door. Bucky didn't take his eyes off of Summer once, staring at her like she'd end up being a mirage and go _poof_ any minute.

She grabbed the phone with shaky hands and put it to her ear, then watched as Bucky did the same with both of his hands, bound by unforgiving chains.

For a moment, she had no idea what to say. He saved her the trouble, however, by speaking first.

"They let you come here?" he asked, his voice sounding hoarse like he hadn't used it in ages. His blue eyes were big and far from unfeeling as they stayed locked on hers.

"Yeah, they... well, Steve brought me here and..."

Her voice broke a little along with her heart. He looked pale, tired, defeated. His lack of sleep was written on his face, and she knew without him having to say a word that his nightmares had come back. His hair was somewhat combed and clean looking, so they were at least letting him have showers, but she had no doubt that he wasn't eating and that his sleep was as bad as it had once been before.

"Are the kids..."

"They're with Paul," she replied quickly. "They're okay. I'm okay. We're... we're doing the best we can. We moved back to the tower and I took David out of school. I've been trying to find a lawyer and I've interviewed a few with Steve, but..." She swallowed and continued looking him over, suddenly fighting back tears that wanted to fall. "Are you okay? Are you eating? Are you -"

"I'm fine," he replied reflexively, briefly closing his eyes like such a thing should be the very last thing on her mind.

She shook her head slightly, not believing him in the least. "I didn't know where they took you at first, none of us knew, and I've just been... I had no idea when I'd see you again. Adelaide, she... well, you're on the news a lot, and... whenever they show your picture, she points and says _dada_. She misses you so much. David misses you even more."

His brows furrowed a little and he smiled in a way that was really more of a grimace, his eyes getting watery upon hearing those words. He looked down, breaking eye contact for the first time, and Summer leaned closer to the glass and placed her left palm flat against it.

"I love you so much," she said quietly, wishing that she could just shatter the glass through the sheer power of her will and take him far away, where nobody could snatch him from her ever again. "I swear we're gonna figure this out."

He shook his head a little, still not meeting her eyes. "Summer..."

"No, look at me," she said, and he looked up and made eye contact once more. The second their eyes connected, it was another blow to her already-aching heart. "Steve is working so hard. Everybody is. Nick Fury met with the President yesterday, and the Attorney General, and that's why you're here now. You're getting a trial and we're gonna prove that you're innocent."

She could see in his eyes and the almost desperate way that he gazed at her that he wanted to believe her with every fiber of his being, but he just couldn't. She could only imagine how he'd probably convinced himself about a hundred times over in his total solitude that this was the end and that there was simply nothing to be done about it. His guilt and that nagging, stubborn sense of self-hatred for his actions had always been his greatest weakness since she'd known him.

"Bucky," she said softly, sincerely, still holding her hand against the glass, "don't lose hope."

He looked at her, staring at her like he was soaking her up and memorizing her all over again, so that at least in his mind she'd still be there once he was all alone again. "I love you."

He said it so quietly, so sadly that it broke her ability to hold back her tears. One escaped, trailing down from her eye as she replied, "I love you too."

Then, though the shackles on his wrists made it rather difficult, he placed his right hand on the glass, right where her left was. It was the closest they could get to touching one another, and for then, it would have to do.

"Tell..." he paused and swallowed, holding himself together. "Tell David and Addie I love them. Tell them I'm thinking about them and... I miss them, and..."

Summer nodded as he trailed off. "Okay. I will, I promise."

He looked at her, eyes trailing to her lips to the wedding ring on her finger against the glass, then back to her own eyes. His voice was barely above a whisper as he said, "I miss you so much."

Another few tears escaped, and as their time together neared its end, Summer replied, "I miss you too. Just hang on, okay? Think about us when it gets hard. Think about coming home. Don't let them break you."

He nodded, clenching his jaw. Then the guards stepped forward, declaring their time up.

"I love you," she said hurriedly, watching the men grab his right shoulder. "Don't give up, okay?"

"I love you too," he said into the phone one last time before being forced to let it drop. The men got him on his feet and, after they shared one last heavy look between them, Bucky was turned around and walked out the door.

Summer stared at the door long after it had closed. She felt crushed, devastated, and yet more hopeful all at once. She'd finally seen him with her own eyes. He was okay, even if she could see how much he was struggling, and if it was the last thing she did, she would see him free again. She would accept nothing else.

As she wiped the tears from her cheeks and tried to pull herself together, the door behind her opened. She turned to see Steve standing there, full of empathy and just as much resolve. She stood up, walked to him, and without a word between them, he hugged her tight and gave her a moment of comfort that she desperately needed.

It just wasn't fair that she could have such comfort and Bucky couldn't. But when the day came that he was no longer in shackles or behind a pane of bulletproof glass - and that day _would_ come, she _had_ to believe - then Summer would change that, and she'd never let a day pass without making sure Bucky knew how much he was loved.

And neither Summer nor Steve would rest until that day came.

* * *

Meanwhile, across the city in a small, very modest law office nestled within Hell's Kitchen, a blind lawyer and his blond law partner were sitting across from one another instead of interviewing or representing any clients. In order to do such a thing one needed actual clients, and while business wasn't _as_ bad as when they had first gotten started... _well_.

Instead of practicing law, they were eating rather sad dollar menu breakfast sandwiches that their lovely assistant had been nice enough to bring them that morning, downing them with equally cheap coffee that wasn't that great but still better than the stuff the aforementioned lovely assistant brewed on a daily basis.

They were used to it. It was fine.

Kind of.

"You know... I have an idea," Foggy Nelson said, wadding up his sandwich wrapper and tossing it successfully in a bin next to the wall. "What if... while you're out at night... you know, beating the crap out of rapists and bad guys and... _whatever..."_

_"_Yeah_," _Matt Murdock replied, finishing his coffee without complaint. He'd had worse.

"What if you like... strategically drop business cards on the ground or... I don't know... put them in the pockets of guys that are gonna need a lawyer?"

"You want me to beat them up and leave them for the cops and then... represent them in court?" Matt surmised.

"Mainly I just want to eat real food," Foggy shrugged. "I mean, that's not really too much to ask for, right?"

Matt grinned. "No, but it would be pretty self-defeating in the long run."

"You could look at it like that," Foggy agreed. "_Or_ you could look at it as a brilliant, innovative business model."

"But you know how I feel about representing guilty people."

Foggy sighed and leaned back in his seat, convinced he'd never have another proper meal again in his life. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Starting to think we should specialize in divorce law instead. Although even then you might only want to represent the side that's _actually_ at fault. Mr. Smith, you had an affair and _that's_ why you're getting divorced? Sorry, we won't take that big fat check from you, but we'll definitely represent your soon to be ex-wife who'll probably pay us in hand-knit sweaters or something."

Matt chuckled, having heard this about a thousand times before. "I didn't say I didn't have some ideas."

"Then please, by all means, share," Foggy said, crossing his arms. "I literally have _nowhere_ else to be and definitely no clients to follow up with."

"Have you been watching the news?"

"Well, I can't exactly afford cable at the moment, but yeah, I've caught a little bit here and there. Why?"

"I might have found someone we can represent," Matt replied casually. "I've made a few calls and left some messages. Trying to set up a meeting."

"Okay," Foggy replied slowly. "What's that have to do with the news? If you're talking about that Broadway star that just got a DUI..."

"No," Matt chuckled. "Who got a DUI?"

"Oh, dammit, you're trying to change the subject now," Foggy said with sudden concern. "Who the hell is it?"

"Are you _sure_ you haven't been watching the news?" Matt asked, his amusement clear.

Foggy sighed impatiently and leaned forward, moving aside a few papers and a book on the desk in order to get to that day's newspaper underneath. Once he acquired said newspaper, he held it up and looked over the front page. Matt, meanwhile, simply sat and waited, unable to get the small grin off of his face.

A moment later, Foggy dropped the newspaper back on the desk, looked Matt straight in the eyes - well, the reflective glasses covering his eyes - and said clearly and unequivocally, "_No_."

Matt's grin slowly grew. "What?"

"_No_," Foggy repeated simply.

"Why not?"

"Well, for one," Foggy replied, holding up his index finger, "nobody in their right minds would ever hire us for such a huge case. We're talking about the trial of the century."

"Probably," Matt agreed.

"Okay, so there's one. _Two_," he jabbed two fingers into the air, "he killed JFK! He's actually guilty and everybody already knows it! A trial at this point is a formality, so what's even the point?"

"That's not necessarily true," Matt replied.

"What, that he killed JFK or that the trial's a formality?"

"That's he's guilty," Matt said.

"You're joking, right?"

"No. I've read his story. I think there's a solid defense just in those files that leaked from SHIELD a couple years ago."

"Oh, okay," Foggy said, "so let me get this straight. You want to represent the Winter Soldier in court and prove that he's innocent even though we all know he _did it_, and then have us go down in history books as the two lawyers who got off JFK's killer."

"... More or less."

Foggy paused, speechless for a moment. "I don't even know where to start explaining how horrible of an idea this is. But it's okay. This guy isn't gonna hire us anyway, so I have nothing to worry about."

"Well, it's his wife I've been trying to contact," Matt replied, as if that made all the difference.

"You know what," Foggy said, "if by some miracle - and I mean a damn _miracle_ \- we end up _actually_ doing this, I will _eat_ my law degree."

"That's a... really weird thing to bet," Matt noted, smiling again.

"Well, it's because the chances of us getting hired for this are about the same as the chances of me choking down a law degree, frame and all."

Matt nodded, unable to really argue that point. "At least if we got this case, you could probably afford cable again."

Foggy glared at him. "We'd also be _all over _cable at that point."

"Haven't you always wanted to be famous?"

Foggy tossed a pen cap at his friend, who shouldn't have been able to see it coming but easily caught it anyway, chuckling and wondering which of them would be proven right. He didn't mention to Foggy that he had actually inadvertently crossed paths with the Winter Soldier himself one night not too long ago, and had deducted his identity based on the undeniably metallic sounds that the other man's left arm had been making. He also didn't mention that it wasn't just the leaked files that made him think the man innocent, but also the fact that he was apparently trying to make up for his past crimes by playing vigilante _and_, according to all the news reports, also working as an Avenger.

Innocence wasn't always so black and white. Numerous defense strategies were already taking root in his head, each of them leading back to the question of what made a person able to be deemed guilty or innocent - autonomy, the knowledge of right and wrong itself, and the presence of choice. From what Matt understood, James Barnes had been denied all of these things and, being without the control of his own mind, was as innocent as a person could be.

Matt was more than willing to prove this on his behalf in court. He just had to get the man's increasingly famous wife to return his phone calls first.

**A/N: SO :D more angst this week as you all can see lol but I'm trying to maintain a balance here so you guys (AND I) don't get TOO depressed and miserable lol. And HEY, more Daredevil things! See, there was totally a bigger purpose for Matt randomly popping up a few chapters ago :D **

**Thank you guys SO MUCH for your reviews and the great response you've shown this new part of the story despite how awful and sad it is lol. One anon review this last week was pretty hard on Summer and blamed her partially for Bucky being arrested, and I'd just like to briefly thank that reviewer for their honesty lol and for also having some kind words to say as well, but I do want to also say that I definitely haven't written this with the intention of setting Summer up as the one to blame. She and Bucky made the mutual decision to get their own house and while that DID contribute to what happened, let's face it, Bucky couldn't keep running forever. This was always going to happen one way or another, and even if they hadn't had the house, her name could have been easily traced to Stark Industries and therefore the tower, being employed there. So... while I OF COURSE welcome all opinions and I get where the review was coming from, the only person I would place blame on is Brock Rumlow. But even without him, it still would have happened in time. BUT! Don't take this as me saying Summer is perfect and blameless and blah blah lol. She has her flaws and she's far from perfect. I would just spare her the blame in this particular scenario. Let's face it, the real culprit in all of this is really Hydra and Hydra alone lol**

**But anyway, thanks again to ALL of you, I LOVE you, and I'll see you all next week! Happy holidays! :D **


	54. Chapter 54

A few days following Bucky's transfer back to the city, his first court date was set at last. He was set to be arraigned in front of a judge at the federal courthouse in New York City, where it appeared the trial would be taking place. The hearing was just under a month away, set rather coincidentally for the day before Adelaide's first birthday. The minute that the timeframe was set, Summer's search for a lawyer went into hyperdrive. It also continued to prove utterly fruitless.

With only three weeks to go until the hearing, Summer and Steve returned to the tower late in the morning feeling equally as frustrated as the other and bordering on hopeless as far as the lawyer search was concerned. Nobody seemed to have what they were looking for, which was the will and the belief necessary to defend a man with a past as complicated and difficult as Bucky's.

"You know, I had really high hopes for this one," Summer muttered, following Steve into the main public entrance for the tower on the ground floor. They usually entered a much more private way, but she needed to check her mail and that required using the main entrance. "I still think they _might_ have been okay."

"I can't explain it, I just... had a bad feeling," Steve sighed, keeping his head down as he and Summer passed employees and guests and everyone else who populated the tower at that busy hour.

"Whenever I like someone, you have a bad feeling," Summer sighed, walking up to a desk where she'd be retrieving her mail from the attendant of. "Then when you like someone, I have a bad feeling."

"What was that one place from a few days ago?" Steve asked as Summer smiled and took the roughly fifteen envelopes addressed to her. "Land... something and Zack?"

"Landman and Zack," Summer said, turning and heading for the nearest pair of elevators, flipping through her mail. "We agreed that they weren't a good fit."

"Well, we're running out of time," Steve sighed. "And not that many firms are willing to even talk to us."

It was true. Summer wasn't sure if she should be surprised or not that most lawyers didn't want to make their names off of defending JFK's assassin. The ones who did were either sketchy or simply struck Summer or Steve as untrustworthy, and most of them freely expressed their belief that really they'd be lucky just to get Bucky a life sentence in prison rather than the death penalty, and Summer simply would not accept that.

"Well, we just need to keep looking," she said, looking up when they reached the elevators and pushing the button to go up. Steve nodded, looking up at the floor numbers above the doors before something to his left caught his attention. It was two men, sitting nearby in a seating area meant for clients or others waiting to be led up, and they were looking their way and talking amongst themselves

Summer was checking her phone for the time when she noticed Steve shifting as if to shield her from something, and she looked up in sudden concern only to find two men she'd never seen before stand up and start walking their way. One was blonde and smiling, almost a little too much, and the other wore dark glasses on his face and toted a walking stick - Summer assumed right away that he was blind.

They didn't look dangerous in the least, but Steve, of course, took no chances and maintained his protective stance as the guys walked up to them.

"Hello," the blonde one said, eyeing Steve a bit nervously and still smiling, "Sorry to bother you both, but you -" he turned to Summer, "wouldn't happen to be Summer Barnes, would you?"

Trying to ignore the instant sinking feeling that overcame her everytime some random person recognized her, she glanced at Steve and then replied, "Yeah, I am." Her face had been splattered all over the place following her visit to the FBI building, so she wasn't surprised whenever someone stared now or asked her if she was who they thought she was.

"I'm Franklin Nelson, and this is Matt Murdock," he told her, gesturing to the dark haired man next to him who nodded once to her and smiled. "We're -"

"Oh," Summer said, blinking and nodding, glancing again at Steve and wordlessly communicating for him to stand down. He did, but he kept a wary eye on the men. "Right, you guys have left me like... ten messages in three days."

Matt smiled and replied, "Sorry about that. We've just been eager to speak with you about your husband's case."

"Right," Summer nodded. "Well, I did look your firm up after I got your messages, but... honestly, I'm looking for someone who's a little more... experienced, so..."

"Understandable," Foggy nodded, again looking up at Steve and quickly looking away. It never got old watching people fidget and try not to stare when they were in the presence of Captain America for the first time. "We don't blame you."

"You work for Stark Industries, am I correct?" Matt asked.

The elevators opened, but Summer ignored them for the time being. "Yes, I do."

"Excuse me if I'm wrong, but you probably have the option of hiring a very experienced defense attorney from the legal department. And I'm sure you've found quite a few firms by now that are interested in taking your case."

He wasn't wrong. Summer paused and waited for him to go on.

"We might not be the most seasoned lawyers, Mrs. Barnes," he added, "but we believe that your husband is innocent and we're willing to help you prove that."

Summer blinked, looking at the man and his blonde partner, then at Steve and finally back to Matt. Not a single lawyer had said anything like that yet. "You think he's innocent?"

"It's pretty clear to us, just from reading files from the SHIELD leak, that there is a strong case for his innocence," Matt replied. "It seems to be a case of blaming a gun for a crime instead of the one controlling it."

Summer could have cried to hear someone outside of the Avengers and their friends say this about him.

"All we're asking for is fifteen minutes of your time," Foggy said. "That's it. Just one chance. Then we'll stop blowing up your phone."

Summer looked at him for a moment, smiling at the remark, and then she considered it for a moment. What did she have to lose? Everything else had struck out so far, so why not? They might have been clearly very green, but they sounded like they actually genuinely believed in Bucky's innocence. And that meant _everything_ to her.

"Okay," she nodded. "We can go to my office and talk."

Both men smiled in reply, and Matt gave a quiet and respectful _thank you_ as the elevator doors opened once more. Summer let them get in first, and as they walked inside, she looked at Steve and they shared a look just before he asked in a whisper, "How long have they had their firm?"

"... You'd probably feel better if you didn't know," Summer whispered back before stepping on the elevator. Steve made a slight face but quickly tucked it away, smiling again at the two men as he stepped on next and the door closed.

As the elevator took them up, the four of them stood there in an awkward silence until Steve glanced at Foggy and held out his hand. "I'm -"

"I know," Foggy smiled, shaking Captain America's hand with a slightly goofy look on his face. "It's an honor to meet you. You're even taller than you look on TV."

"Oh. Thanks," Steve smiled before also shaking Matt's hand. He seemed a little less starstruck than his counterpart, and all in all had a very calm, interesting air about him.

"My mom's a big fan," Foggy added. "If you could maybe... sign something for her, it would -"

Matt cleared his throat. "Foggy."

" - It would make her year."

Summer stifled a laugh as Matt used all of his self control to not shake his head, but Steve was nonplussed. "Sure. No problem."

Foggy then smiled triumphantly, and Summer realized that of all of the lawyers they'd interviewed so far, these two were the only ones who seemed like actual normal human beings. She wasn't sure if that meant they were qualified to handle the trial of the century, but they certainly hadn't set off any red flags yet.

She led them to her office, which she hadn't been spending a lot of time in lately, and Steve grabbed an extra chair for himself as Summer sat behind her desk and the two lawyers sat in front of it. Steve ended up closing the door and sitting to the side of the desk as Summer took a breath and said, "Okay, so... I'm just gonna jump right in because I've honestly lost all my patience in the last couple days. You said that you believe my husband's innocent and that you can prove it. But when you say innocent, are you talking an insanity plea?"

"No," Matt replied. "Although we _could_ argue that, if you wanted."

"I don't," Summer shook her head. "I know it's the easy choice but then if it works, they might mandate some kind of psychiatric confinement and that would... it would be bad for him. He's not insane. He wasn't even insane back then, he was just..."

"Brainwashed," Foggy finished for her. "We've been reading up on the leaked files."

"I have his original file from the USSR," Steve interjected. "Everything they did to him, it's in there. At least as far as we know."

"Good," Matt replied, angling back towards Summer. "The thing about this case, it's not going to be cut and dry. People are already debating it and arguing about what sentence he should have and the trial hasn't even started yet."

"Yeah," Summer agreed, "and I read way too many of those debates online and drive myself crazy."

"Then you know that the divide is almost even between the two sides," Matt said. "All we have to do is convince a jury of reasonable doubt that your husband was in his right mind when he committed the crimes he's charged with."

"And he obviously wasn't," Summer nodded.

"But the problem is," Foggy added, "he killed a President. And not just any President. He killed JFK, and now the government's embarrassed because everybody knows they pinned the crime on the wrong guy, and everyone's wondering what _else_ they covered up."

Matt then added, "So they're going to do everything they can to save face. And I'm willing to bet it's going to involve painting your husband as a dangerous and unpredictable threat and his _friends_ as irresponsible vigilante enablers."

When Steve's brows furrowed, Foggy elaborated, "The Avengers operate without any clear jurisdiction or federal oversight. And trust in any public figure, even you, Mister - Captain - is pretty low after the whole SHIELD debacle and the Ultron mess."

Somewhere in the back of Summer's mind, she registered that this lawyer had just called Steve _Mister Captain_.

"But that doesn't have anything to do with Bucky," Steve pointed out.

"It does because the whole world knows that you were hiding him here in this tower," Matt said. "It gives weight to the argument that you operate above the law and are willing to compromise the safety of the public for one man who might still be very dangerous."

"He isn't dangerous," Summer immediately replied. "He's a good father and a good man. He's worked _so_ hard to get this far and..."

"I don't doubt you, Mrs. Barnes," Matt replied quietly. "I'm only naming just _one_ of the tactics they might use during this case. And you have to be prepared to hear a lot worse than what I just said."

Summer sighed, nodding and knowing that he was right. Steve then said, "We have a lot of proof of what HYDRA did to him. Not just files but videos we recovered from a HYDRA base. One was made after Howard Stark was killed, and you can see how confused he was. He questioned what they made him do at every turn, and every time they would take his memories and torture him until he stopping asking questions."

"You have this video?" Foggy asked, and Steve nodded. "That could be a very key piece of evidence. Have you found anything related to the Kennedy assassination?"

"Nothing concrete, definitely nothing like that," Steve replied. "The reason why we have the Stark video is because he was sold back to the American arm of HYDRA by then. Most of our information is dated after the Soviet Union collapsed. A couple of files is all we have dated earlier."

"Well, still," Foggy replied, "all of that can help. The more that can prove he wasn't in control of his own actions or even fully aware of them, the better."

As the men spoke amongst themselves, Summer felt her phone buzz and briefly checked it to find a text from Darcy. She'd taken the kids that morning for Summer, and apparently the kids were ready to have their mama back. Summer texted her back to bring the kids to her office, and then she put her phone down and took a moment before she asked a question that needed to be voiced.

"Look," she began slowly, "you guys are saying all the right things and you seem to really mean it, too, and... that's the main thing I was looking for in a lawyer, someone who actually believed that my husband's innocent and won't just settle for a life sentence as if that's a _good_ thing. But I have to ask - are you guys just trying to make your careers off this case? I mean... you _just_ opened your firm less than a year ago. You can't blame me for wondering if I'm not making the biggest mistake of my life by considering hiring you."

"And this is a federal case," Steve reminded them. "You'd be going up against the whole Justice Department and all of their resources."

"Those are all fair points," Matt replied, "and the first one to make most of them was my partner here."

Foggy nodded. "It's true. We're under no illusions here. And you'd both be crazy to not think that you might be better served by more experienced lawyers."

"So sell me," Summer said, looking at them both expectantly. "Tell me why I should hire you guys over someone like, say, Landman and Zack who's been around forever and has pretty good client reviews."

Summer could immediately tell that the name meant something to the two men, as they both paused and Foggy's eyes widened just a tad.

"Well," Matt began with what looked like the start of a very small smile on his face, "to start with, we actually interned at Landman and Zack after we graduated."

Summer paused. "Really?" Then she paused _again_. "Then why aren't you working with them now?"

"We were set to make partner," Foggy said. "But we turned them down."

"We're not in it for the money," Matt added, "or for any other reason you'd be justified to assume. We became lawyers because we want to help people. We defend the innocent. That's why we're here. Not for your money or for the fame that would come with this case. And I can promise you, Mrs. Barnes, that we would do everything in our power to defend your husband if you hire us."

He certainly made a good case, and Summer couldn't help but be impressed by the both of them, perhaps Matt especially. He spoke quietly and thoughtfully but with such conviction and eloquence that Summer got the feeling that he constantly surprised those who underestimated him.

Summer looked at both men, finding nothing but sincerity on both of their faces, and she couldn't believe it, but she wanted to hire them more than any of the other attorneys she'd met so far. She wanted to hire them a _lot_ more.

But it was such a huge decision with such far reaching consequences. She felt the start of familiar panic start crawling up the back of her neck, and before she could break into a sweat, she took a breath and said, "Would you two excuse us for a minute?"

"Absolutely," Foggy replied. "Take your time."

Summer smiled politely and then stood up, walking out of the office with Steve and closing the door. As soon as the door was shut, she looked at Steve and said, "Am I nuts for actually considering this?"

"Maybe," he shrugged. "What do you think?"

"I think that they seem completely genuine," she replied, "and that they're saying everything we've wanted all the other lawyers to say since day one. And they don't seem to be the typical blood-sucking parasite-type lawyers."

"I like them too," Steve said quietly, "and my gut says it might not be a bad idea. But..."

"But they're inexperienced and who we hire could mean the difference between Bucky living and dying," Summer said, finishing for him. "I know."

Steve let out a sigh, looking around the otherwise empty office space. "I don't know, Summer."

Thinking hard, she said, "I mean, everything would be on the line for them, too. And they sound like they really believe in the case. That's more than I can say for any of the other lawyers we've talked to."

"I know," Steve nodded, putting his hands on his hips as he continued to think. "We could give them a shot. We can always hire someone else if it doesn't work out."

"Yeah? So we should do it?"

"We need _somebody_," Steve replied. "And I'd rather it be someone who's on our side than someone who thinks we've already lost."

"Okay," Summer nodded, taking a deep breath. "_Okay_."

As she mentally prepared herself to walk back into her office and tell the two men that they were hired, Darcy arrived with the kids in tow. David was walking behind her and Adelaide was on her hip, gnawing on what appeared to be a french fry and lighting up with a big smile when Summer came into view.

"Mama!" the baby exclaimed, all but diving out of Darcy's arms at Summer as soon as she was close enough.

"Told you they were ready to have you back," Darcy said as Summer smiled and took Adelaide into her arms, kissing her fat little cheek as she giggled. "Apparently I'm only cool for like three hours max."

"Well, thank you again for taking them today," Summer said, putting Adelaide on her hip. "It was a huge help."

"Oh, no problem. Any luck with the lawyer hunt?"

Summer glanced at Steve before replying, "Actually, yeah, I think so. I think we finally found someone good."

"Really? Awesome, because the arraignment's what, three weeks away?"

Summer nodded. "Yeah, exactly." Then she paused and asked, "Why is David hiding behind you?"

"Oh," Darcy grinned, glancing behind her. "David kind of... found something today."

"_Found_ something?"

"Well, when I took them out to get food, on our way back he kind of... well... David, just show her."

The boy hesitated, but after a moment he finally stepped out from behind Darcy. Summer's eyes were immediately drawn to a little black ball of fluff that he was holding in his hands, and when said ball of fluff looked up and laid it's startlingly green eyes upon her, Summer had to fight not to grin.

"You found a kitty?" she asked as David walked closer to her to show it off. Summer reached down and gave its little head a few pets, and with a slight grimace she said, "I'm not sure if we can keep a kitty here, sweetie..."

At that, David looked up and gave her the poutiest, most big and watery-eyed look she'd ever seen before in her life. The kitty blinked at her, then closed its eyes and purred as David held it tighter and snuggled it to his chest.

Summer looked at Darcy and then Steve, who grinned at her and said, "Tony's never explicitly said no pets."

"Never," Darcy confirmed. "Like, not even a sign anywhere or anything."

"True," Summer mused, looking at how adorable David looked with the kitty and knowing full well that she didn't have it in her to say no anyway. David had been through so much and was still struggling to keep calm and steady day to day, and animals were known to be great therapy in general. He deserved a kitty, plain and simple. "Okay. You can keep it. _But_ you have to help take care of it, okay?"

His eyes lit up with joy for the first time in weeks, David nodded furiously and ran up to Summer, giving her a big hug full of gratitude. She laughed and hugged him back, glad to see him happy for once, and then she said, "Now we've gotta go out later and get a litter box and food and stuff."

"You know what," Darcy said, "I'll run out and get all that stuff, and you can pay me back later. I've gotta go out anyway and nobody's trying to stalk me or take _my_ picture."

"Are you sure?" Summer asked.

"Oh yeah," Darcy waved her off. "Don't worry about it."

"Thanks," Summer smiled, and Darcy again waved her off before tickling Adelaide and making her giggle one more time before heading off. And then, with her baby on her hip and her son in tow with a little black kitty cat in his arms, she and Steve headed back inside her office.

"Okay," she said after they walked inside and both men turned in their seats towards them. "You guys are hired."

Matt smiled. Foggy appeared genuinely quite shocked. She half-expected him to dumbly ask _really?!_ but instead, they both stood up and Foggy said with full seriousness, "Thank you for giving us a chance. We'll do everything we can to make sure that you won't be disappointed."

She then shook both of her hands, and upon shaking Matt's, Adelaide eyed him with a little smile and then reached out and grabbed his sleeve.

"Oh sorry, that's my daughter," Summer chuckled, trying to pry her little hand away.

"It's no problem," he chuckled back, reaching with his free hand to find and tickle the back of Adelaide's hand. She giggled and pulled her hand back, half hiding her face and half giving him what were for babies the equivalent of heart eyes.

"She's a big flirt," Summer explained, shaking her head and not wanting to think of how that trait would translate once she hit her teen years.

"Yeah, so is he," Foggy said, nudging Matt in the arm. Then after Matt smiled and shrugged him off, Foggy turned back to Adelaide and said, "She's adorable."

"Her name's Adelaide," Summer said proudly. "She's turning one in a few weeks. And this," she said, shifting towards David who stood at her side still cuddling the kitty, "is David. And the new kitty he just brought home."

"Hi, buddy," Foggy said with a friendly smile, to which David merely eyed him suspiciously and slunk away slightly.

Summer smiled and said, "Yeah, he's not big on new people. Or talking. But he warms up to you eventually."

"It's no problem," Foggy assured her. "Are you guys staying here? Are you safe?"

"As safe as we can be," she replied with a nod. "I know my face got splashed around everywhere the day I went and visited Bucky, and my old Facebook pictures are everywhere, so we've just been staying inside, mostly. The press doesn't have the kids' names yet, which is a miracle."

"They'll get them eventually," Matt said. "You'll need to prepare for that. Everything's going to get a lot harder for you once the trial gets started."

Summer let out a breath and then asked, "What's the first thing we need to do?"

"We need to see him," Matt replied. He inclined his head in Steve's direction and asked, "Can you help arrange that?"

"Yeah, of course. When?"

"As soon as possible," Matt said. "Preferably today. We've got a lot of work to do."

Summer didn't doubt the truth of that statement for a moment. Steve immediately got on his phone, and she held Adelaide a little tighter on her hip, feeling oddly calm for the time being. She knew the feeling wouldn't last, but her anxiety over finding a lawyer had been soothed and despite how very green the two lawyers were, her gut told her that she'd chosen well. She couldn't be sure just yet, but her instincts had never steered her wrong before.

It was one more piece of the puzzle down, and one step closer to climbing the enormous mountain standing in front of them.

* * *

Later that day, as the sun was setting outside, Summer again found herself deep in the bowels of FBI headquarters again, only under much different circumstances than the first time. This time she had her two new lawyers with her as well as Steve, and they were sitting in a holding room on one side of a table with Bucky sitting on the other. There was no glass between them this time, but he was still shackled to the floor and she wasn't allowed any physical contact with him.

And that was an incredibly difficult rule to adhere to when Bucky was sitting there, looking at her with such profound misery and resignation in his eyes that all she wanted to do was grab him, hug him and never let him go.

"Your arraignment is going to be fairly simple," Matt said, all business as he addressed the legendary assassin before him. Bucky had barely acknowledged either lawyer upon introduction, mostly just sitting there and listening and occasionally giving Summer the looks that were breaking her heart. "They're going to formally read you their list of charges, and then you'll enter a plea. After that, the judge will decide whether or not to set bail."

"Is that a possibility? Bail?" Steve asked.

"It's unlikely," Matt admitted. "I won't say it's impossible, but I wouldn't get your hopes up."

"So will he stay here the entire time, then?" Summer asked, horrified at the thought.

"Well, this case has kind of already gone through uncharted territory," Foggy said, glancing through a couple of papers that were before him. "Technically, they should have arraigned you within 72 hours at the _latest_ after your arrest. So this hearing is coming about two months too late."

"Is that grounds for... false imprisonment, or something?" Summer asked.

"There are enough laws on the books post 9/11 that they can invoke to justify the wait," Matt replied. "They were following protocol normally reserved for detaining foreign terrorists, which... they _technically_ had grounds for."

"Well then the least they could do is let him have bail," Summer muttered, looking away. She glanced up then and caught Bucky's eyes as they again fell to her, and her heart felt tight at how pale and tired he looked. He _needed_ to get out of there.

Foggy appeared to be in some sort of deep thought. Silence prevailed for a moment, and then he looked at Matt and said, "Maybe bail isn't out of the question. We could make a solid case for it."

"It's beyond proving he's not a flight risk," Matt noted.

"Right, but what if we proposed bail with very strict conditions? House arrest, constant monitoring, the works. And if it was at Avengers Tower in the middle of the city, full of people and cameras, that would be easy."

Matt considered that for a moment. "Still a tough sell."

Then Summer had a thought, and even though she felt like she was in so far over her head that she couldn't even see the surface, she said, "What if we also say it's... for his health? His mental health? They want him competent to stand trial, right? But staying down here underground in a cage alone would drive anybody out of their mind."

Bucky glanced away from her then, looking down at his hands that were in his lap.

"And he has a family, kids that miss him," Summer said, maybe grasping at straws but not caring. She just wanted him home.

Foggy twirled a pen in his hand before saying, "We could use the help of a psychologist if we're trying to sell this angle."

Summer's eyes then lit up and she all but exclaimed, "Doctor Connor! Your therapist," she said to Bucky before looking back at the lawyers. "He hasn't seen him for a while but he used to talk to him twice a week. He's actually been calling me but I keep forgetting to call him back. Could he help?"

"How long did you see this therapist?" Matt asked Bucky.

Bucky thought for a moment before muttering, "Two years."

"That's good," Foggy said, jotting down a note. "We can get a statement from him. That could help a lot."

Summer smiled, nearly overjoyed to have contributed something potentially very helpful to the case. She smiled at Bucky, but he couldn't quite muster up a smile of his own. He didn't want to get his hopes up, and she couldn't blame him. Even if the look on his face was a knife to her heart.

"Keep in mind that even if they set bail," Matt said, "they could set it so astronomically high that they know you'd have no hope of posting it."

Summer's smile fading, she looked at Steve who glanced at her before saying, "Maybe Tony could help."

"We're talking in the millions," Foggy told him. "And that's if it even happens."

"We'll make it work if it does," Steve said confidently.

Matt nodded his way, then turned back to Bucky and said, "Until the arraignment, just hold tight. If they try to question you or interview you, don't say a word unless we're also here. You have rights. Don't forget that."

Bucky nodded slowly. Summer couldn't take the look on his face anymore and pretend it wasn't there, so she leaned a little further across the table and said, "Bucky, this is... this is good. There's hope. These guys believe in you and they're going to do everything they can to get you out of here."

He still didn't say a word. He nodded though, and then Steve added, "She's right. And there's a lot of people who think you deserve to be free. Not just us. People all over the country."

Summer then watched as something in Bucky's expression changed. He looked down and clenched his jaw, then looked back up with what looked like a war brewing in his blue eyes. He looked at Steve first, and then at Summer as he opened his mouth and _almost_ began to speak.

But that was when the guards standing at the door declared their time up and moved forward to retrieve Bucky. He clamped his mouth shut and kept his eyes locked with Summer's as they released his shackles and then used them to start leading him out the door.

She couldn't help but immediately tear up, calling after him, "I love you. Don't give up."

He kept his eyes on hers until they walked him out the door and he was forced to look away. Summer stared at the door for a few moments after, willing her eyes to stay dry as she muttered, "We have to get him out of here."

"Yeah. We do," Steve agreed. "He doesn't look good."

"Do you think they're hurting him or something?" Summer asked, looking back and forth between Steve and the two other men.

"I don't know," Steve said, clearly distressed at the thought. "I hope not. But even if they aren't, you know how he is."

Summer did know, maybe even better than Steve himself. And that was exactly why they needed to get him the hell out of that place and back home.

Summer felt a comforting hand on her shoulder, and she looked over to find that it belonged to Matt. She couldn't see his eyes behind his glasses, but she didn't need to in order to know that he meant his next words fully and sincerely. "We're going to do our very best to get him home, Mrs. Barnes."

She sniffed back more tears that threatened and nodded. "Thank you."

She could make it. She knew that she could, and she would. But knowing that Bucky was suffering immeasurably worse in his solitude was enough to make her want to burn the entire building and everyone else in it to the ground and run away with him to some place where nobody could ever find them again.

* * *

Three weeks passed. Summer and Steve remained hard at work and in daily contact with Matt and Foggy, whose lack of other clients allowed them to devote their energy entirely to Bucky's case. The national media openly puzzled over the choice of defense attorneys and wondered exactly how two unknown rookies from Hell's Kitchen had gotten the job, but the more time that passed, the more confident that Summer became in her decision.

At home, she tried to stick to a tight schedule and was looking for an affordable - and trustworthy - tutor to hire for David while she kept him out of school. That search was proving hilariously fruitless, and in the midst of that and _everything _else_, _she also had to get her birthday shopping done for Adelaide. She bought everything online and tried not to think about how she'd once looked forward to going out and hitting toy stores with Bucky, picking out Addie's gifts together and making the kind of memories she hadn't gotten to have with David. And yet there she was, hiding out in a tower and ordering everything from Amazon because showing her face in public was reserved for only things that couldn't be avoided. She was extremely grateful for Esteban and Nicolo, however, who had volunteered to take care of Adelaide's party for her so she could focus on taking care of everything else.

Meanwhile, on the lighter side of things, David's kitty had yet to be named, so his working title was, rather simply, _kitty_. He was a good kitty, taking to domestic life and the concept of a litter box pretty well, and the calming effect on David was invaluable. Adelaide loved the kitty too, though she had to be closely watched because she had the tendency to be a little too rough and slightly torture the poor thing. The kitty, however, still seemed to like her just fine, and Summer didn't mind having a sweet little ball of fur occasionally snuggle up on her lap and purr in contentment.

She got the room next to hers set up with all of David and Adelaide's furniture and belongings, but they chose to sleep curled up in bed with her every night. For two kids who had watched their father have about twenty guns pointed on him as he was forcibly ripped from their happy home, wanting to stay close to their mother at night was far from unreasonable. And for her part, she slept better with them close, too.

Bucky's arraignment was set for mid-morning the day before Adelaide's birthday. When that day came, Summer woke up early, got dressed in one of her best, professional dresses that she wore for work, and then forced herself to eat a decent breakfast for once. Paul came by the tower, having agreed the week before to come and stay with the kids while Summer went to court, and once he was settled in, Summer thanked him profusely and then left with Steve, headed towards the federal courthouse where they would meet Matt and Foggy before the arraignment began.

A lot was on the line that day, and it was one of those things that Summer or anyone else in her shoes could never be truly prepared for. But the same could be said of the entire process, and it simply was what it was. There was no time to cry or panic or get sick with worry. She just had to keep putting one foot in front of the other and pray as hard as she could for the outcome that she wanted.

She also prayed for Bucky's strength, and for him to not lose hope if bail wasn't set and his near future was confined to a solitary cell underground.

She and Steve entered the courthouse, quickly located the correct room, and sat just behind Matt and Foggy, behind the partition. There were cameras being set up to televise the hearing, and on the other side of the courtroom was the special prosecutor that the Attorney General had appointed to handle Bucky's case. He was an older fellow, seasoned with hundreds of convictions under his belt and cozy with the political establishment in D.C. Compared to him, Matt and Foggy looked to the world like bugs waiting to be squished with a rolled up newspaper.

Summer looked away, took a deep breath, and wished that she'd taken a Xanax with breakfast.

* * *

One thing that could be said for the federal agents who Bucky faced contact with on a daily basis was that they were not the horrific pieces of scum that his HYDRA handlers had been. They weren't gentle or warm, certainly, but they didn't taunt him for fun and they didn't knock him around for fun either, or stare at him like he was less than human. Far from it, they were forbidden to speak to him or interact in any way, and they respected those rules. They gave him food that he barely ate and the showers that he was allowed were hot and not the nightmarish things HYDRA had subjected him to.

Some of them looked fairly terrified to be in his presence. Others might have had a slight bit of sympathy in their eyes, and still others seemed completely unaffected. The ones that came to retrieve him from his cell to take him to the arraignment were the latter, all stone-faced and neutral and efficient. They were led by the same agent who had been leading the investigation, the one who came by to ask Bucky questions every few days that he refused to answer, and it was as they loaded him into the back of an armored truck that morning that he saw the sun for the first time in two months.

His arms and legs shackled to the floor of the truck in reinforced chains, he kept his head down during the brief journey. Nobody spoke to him and he sure as hell wasn't going to speak to them. For two months he hadn't uttered a single word to any of them. The only times that he had spoken at all were during the few visits he'd been allowed from Steve and Summer and, more recently, his new lawyers.

The ride to the federal courthouse was short. For some reason, one that he would later blame on his mental state, Bucky didn't expect the swarm of flashing cameras and people yelling that awaited on the other side of the truck's doors.

He did his best to ignore the cameras and obnoxious questions as the agents hustled him inside, knowing in the back of his mind that they _could_ have brought him in much more discreetly if they had wanted to, but that was just it. They didn't want to. They were showing off, wanting his face plastered all over the news as much as possible, with both of his hands bound and hair hanging loosely around his face and their prison clothes on him, underneath the headline _Look! We're doing something right for once!_

Maybe they were. He'd spent so much time alone with nothing but the demons and ghosts of his past to keep him company, he was starting to wonder if everything wasn't as it should be. He was no longer living in a bubble surrounded by people who loved him and made him believe that his past didn't define him and that he was _good_ and deserved a happy life. But maybe they were wrong. Maybe they'd always been wrong, and _this_ was what he would always deserve.

His thoughts swirled stubbornly through his head as he was led into the courtroom and then walked towards where his lawyers sat. He looked to the row of seats behind them and saw Steve sitting there with Summer, right in front, both of them looking at him with that same mixture of love and quiet horror that he'd seen from them every time they'd visited him.

But they weren't the only ones there. Sam was there too, sitting behind them with Natasha and Wanda. Clint was there too. So was Dr. Connor, that incorrigible old man, and maybe most surprisingly, Tony was also present with Pepper. Vision was with them, too. Nick Fury's presence was perhaps the most looming and intimidating of all, and he was joined by Maria Hill and a few other associates that Bucky knew from his work at the facility.

It was a show of solidarity, and for some reason, it hit him like a hard punch to the chest. He looked back to Summer and watched her eyes start to grow watery, just before he was seated next to Matt and Foggy and was forced to look away.

How all of these people could have faith in him when he had all but already given up on himself was beyond his comprehension. How Tony could be sitting there in his corner when a judge was about to formally hear charges of Bucky murdering his father was an even greater mystery.

"Are these chains really necessary?" Foggy asked one of the guards who had escorted Bucky after he was seated. "Can't you put him in something a little less extreme?"

"Protocol, sir," the guard replied before leaving them.

Foggy, who was sitting the closest to Bucky, paused and then said quietly to Bucky, "Sorry about this. We also requested that the hearing be private, but we didn't get anywhere."

Bucky glanced at the cameras lining the room, not surprised at all.

"Might not be a bad thing, though, because the whole country's gonna see all the support you've got behind you."

All the support he didn't deserve. He cleared his throat faintly and asked, "What do I do?"

"Not a lot," Matt replied. "You rise when the judge comes and goes. You answer him when he asks you a question. And when they ask how you plead, you say not guilty."

Bucky paused, looking between the two lawyers in quiet confusion. "By insanity?"

"No," Matt shook his head. "Just _not guilty_."

... But he _was_ guilty, and the government had heaps of proof of it. How in the world then could Bucky claim to be not guilty and not make a huge joke of his entire defense?

"Trust us," Matt told him, fully serious and fully sincere.

Bucky was fairly sure that his lawyers were both utterly delusional.

But that was when the bailiff announced the judge's arrival, and before Bucky could further argue, everyone in the courtroom stood up. Bucky followed suit, keeping his expression blank and nerves calm as he watched the judge walk in and take his seat. The judge was old, older than the prosecutor representing the government, and Bucky wasn't sure if that was a good or a bad thing, or if it mattered at all.

The next fifteen minutes passed by in a surreal haze that hurt more than he had expected it to.

As Matt had explained, the judge asked him a few questions, mostly pertaining to his awareness of his surroundings and soundness of mind. He answered quietly and respectfully, never much more than a simple yes or no, aware of the many eyes on him. He couldn't even comprehend how many people were watching this on their phone or TV.

Then the charges were read. The first one was the most obvious one, the first degree murder of President John F. Kennedy. Next came Howard Stark, and then six more names. Most of them were government officials whose deaths occurred between the 50s and 70s, a few of them scientists and engineers. He remembered killing most of them, but not all.

The eight deaths were only about a third of his total kills as the Winter Soldier, but they were the only ones prosecutable for a number of reasons. Most of the other ones had been non-Americans or ones that lacked clear evidence implicating him. But it hardly mattered - eight was more than enough.

Then, after the charges had been read, the judge asked how he pled. Bucky couldn't believe what he was about to say and he still thought it was laughable, but he still said _not guilty._

The judge was so confused by this that he asked the counselors to approach the bench, just to make sure that they realized how stupid of a plea that was. Once he was satisfied that they were more than aware, he let them go back to their tables and then moved on to the issue of bail.

That was when Bucky's sense of dread began to set in. He held no hope of being released on bail, but he knew that Summer and Steve both did. They had both already been through so much because of him, and now they would have their hopes crushed and he'd have to see the disappointment on their faces as he was led back to his solitary cell across town.

But the process didn't quite go as he expected. Matt and Foggy presented the judge with a number of statements. The first was from Dr. Connor, who vouched for his mental state and lack of aggression or the potential for a flight risk and argued that further incarceration under the current circumstances would only serve to impair his mental function and delay or otherwise impede a swift trial. The second was from Nick Fury who echoed the same sentiments and noted his previous two years of secret service with the Avengers and the stability and responsibility that he had demonstrated during that time.

Then Matt and Foggy presented their proposal of a very strict and transparent house arrest at Avenger's tower. They gave the government a _lot_, offering 24 hour access to Bucky and even some surveillance in the common areas of the tower, which was a concession that likely made Tony want to roll into a ditch. Essentially, he would still be very much in prison, only he would be with his friends and family and have the chance to spend time with them before potentially serving the rest of his life in prison or being put to death.

The special prosecutor, unsurprisingly, countered with all of the arguments that Bucky expected - that he was an inherent flight risk, that to consider such an idea would be special treatment for the Avengers who were unpoliced and unaccountable and dangerous, and unprecedented in a case of this magnitude.

The judge called a recess to consider his decision. Bucky was shocked. He was actually _deliberating_ this?

Behind him, Summer and Steve smiled at him, cautious hope clear in their eyes. He couldn't smile back but he held their gazes long enough to tell them what he needed them to know - that he didn't expect to come home, and if he didn't, that it was okay.

It _wasn't_ okay, of course, but they needed to think that it was. He needed them to be strong for not just their own sake but for that of his kids, who needed them now more than ever. He needed them to be strong so that he could have _some_ semblance of peace in his solitude, knowing that they were okay and his kids were okay and that they would all make it without him.

When the judge returned and took his seat once more, Bucky stood and felt a sharp wave of anxiety uncurl in his gut. He had no hope - he couldn't let himself have that luxury - but this was his last chance to have some time with his family before facing justice.

"I'm conflicted on this," the judge admitted, looking out at the faces before him, "but I've made a decision. The truth is that with a case like this, where the crimes are of such a magnitude and high profile, there _is_ no precedent for setting bail."

Bucky clenched his jaw and looked down. That was it. Of course it was. He would have been silly to expect anything else.

"However, there's also no precedent set for this _entire case_."

Bucky's eyes shot up.

"Not only are we trying a man for a crime that the government _knowingly_ pinned on the wrong man over 50 years ago, but we are also trying a man who we are all aware by now did not knowingly defect to the USSR or willingly commit treason. Anyone with an Internet connection can verify this on their own. This is a remarkably complicated case and even at this early stage, we should all be able to agree that it is not black and white and that we're all in uncharted waters at this point. Now, I think that given the dubious manner of Mr. Barnes' arrest and the fact that this arraignment is essentially a joke, considering he's been in custody for two months already, the defense's proposal for house arrest is reasonable."

Bucky's jaw nearly hit the floor. Was he hallucinating?

"In the same vein," the judge went on, "the arrangement _will_ be a burden on the FBI, and I am not a fan of special treatment for _anybody_. That's not what this is. But after reading the sworn statement of the psychologist who has treated the defendant for several years, I see the logic in the defense's proposal. I'll set bail at 15 million dollars, the terms of which are conditional upon house arrest and full cooperation from the defendant."

And just like that, the judge smacked his gavel once, and the hearing was adjourned.

Bucky almost didn't make it to his feet when the judge left. He was so deeply shocked and confused that his legs were on the verge of losing function.

"Well," Foggy said to Bucky after the judge had gone, "happen to know anybody with fifteen million bucks laying around?"

Bucky turned and looked at Summer over his shoulder, finding her staring at him in sheer shock with her hands over her mouth. Steve was flabbergasted as well, and Bucky wasn't sure how to feel. Bail had been set, yes, but he and Summer definitely didn't have $15,000,000 to their name.

"We'll get to work on this right away," Matt assured Bucky as Foggy gathered up their things and the guards came over to take Bucky back. "This is good. This is a victory for us."

Bucky nodded, then had to shove down an instinctual urge to throw the guards off of him as they grabbed him and began to lead him away. He controlled himself, looking back at Summer once more as he was marched out of the courtroom.

He might actually get to come home.

As Bucky grappled with the prospect of having some hope once more, he missed what happened a few moments later, after he was gone and when Summer and Steve both stood up to leave and looked at each other incredulously.

"They actually set bail," Summer marveled, staring at Steve with wide eyes.

"Yes they did," Foggy said, he and Matt making their way to them. "I can't believe it either and I helped pitch the deal."

Summer smiled at them both, then said, "But I did hear the amount right? Fifteen million?"

"Fifteen million," Matt confirmed. "I'm surprised it's not more, honestly."

Steve, knowing full well that there was only one man they knew who could help them, gave Summer's back a pat before he stepped out of their row and walked to where Tony was standing with Pepper a few rows down.

Summer watched as Steve walked up to Tony, who immediately put up his hands, closed his eyes, and nodded to Steve.

"I know," he said before Steve had the chance to utter a single word. "I know. I've got this."

And when Steve immediately _hugged_ Tony right there in the middle of the courtroom, in front of cameras that were still rolling, Summer immediately knew what it meant and felt _happy_ tears spring to her eyes.

"Thank you, Tony," Steve said as Tony hugged him back, patting his back humorously and grinning a little.

"Yeah, yeah, you're welcome. By the way," Tony replied, "This totally makes you my bitch now."

Steve laughed, and Tony gave Summer the thumbs up. She smiled hugely and then vigorously hugged both Matt and Foggy before being the next one to all but tackle Tony in an enormous hug, knowing that she could never ever repay him in a million years for the gift that he was giving to her family.

Against all odds, Bucky was coming home. Adelaide was going to have a happy birthday after all.

**A/N: Hey look, a semi-happy ending for this chapter! :D They're only at the start of this whole ordeal but hey, you guys can't say I'm completely cruel :p Thank you guys so much for the feedback and great response that you've all had to this new phase of the story, it means SO much to me because I've been looking forward to this for AGES and I'm REALLY happy that you all seem to be enjoying it (even though it's been mega-angsty so far :D). Your all's reviews make my day, so keep them coming and I will do my best to have next week's slightly happier chapter out in a timely manner :D a BIG thank you to my co-conspirator midnigtwings96 for always helping me out and frankly being the main reason why I manage to keep this giant story updated and alive (seriously, all the credit goes to her). Thank you all again, and as usual, I'll see you next week! :D **


	55. Chapter 55

Once the judge had set Bucky's bail, Tony was ready to post it within the hour. Bucky didn't come home that night, however, because the lead investigator on his case argued that it would take at least a few days to get the house arrest and surveillance systems set up that the bail was conditional upon. This in turn led Summer to mentally throw a fit, because then Bucky would miss his daughter's first birthday and it was highly unfair because regardless of the extenuating circumstances, they had the money and therefore he should be allowed to come home.

So then, the next morning when Matt and Foggy told Summer that Bucky for sure would not be home for two more days, she was ready to collapse into a puddle of tears before Natasha suggested something that saved the day.

"Just celebrate her birthday two days late," she told Summer. "She's a year old. She doesn't know what day it is. And this way he doesn't have to miss it and she'll have both of you there."

_Of course_. Summer had then praised Natasha's genius and unfailing common sense, and with Esteban and Nicolo's help, delayed the party. It was a compromise, yes, but so was life in general and she accepted that. She then focused all of her energy on getting everything ready for Bucky to come home.

She reorganized their room, hanging and putting away his clothes and other belongings that she had been avoiding doing since the thought of it had been too unbearably sad until then. But now that he was coming home, she wanted everything to be perfect and him to be as comfortable as possible, since she imagined that his mental state wouldn't be the best and he would need time to adjust. And that was fine. Anything he needed, she was more than happy to provide.

And so, she sat tight for two days. Matt and Foggy made sure that Bucky knew when he was coming home as well, and meanwhile, on TV and the Internet, people reacted to the televised arraignment.

While there were a handful of those who felt that the judge had displayed a bias in the defense's favor, most felt that his comments were fair, but the setting of bail was met with far more shock. Talking heads wrote it off as special treatment and the $15 million price tag as laughable, since clearly Tony Stark was bankrolling the whole operation and it was all a crock. Others who disagreed noted some rather notorious criminals who had also been granted bail in the past, and they considered the terms of bail more than fair. Still others wondered aloud if all the Avengers weren't _all_ going on trial in a very real sense.

It was a fair point. Much of the commentary surrounding Bucky and the coming trial wasn't even centered on his crimes themselves or his own complicated history, but rather the entire team and their role in the world. Their very existence and operation in the field challenged the global law-enforcement establishment and left a lot of people wondering just how trustworthy they really were, especially following the Ultron debacle and the revelation that a very wanted fugitive had been operating on their team for nearly two years.

Summer found it all incredibly frustrating. Critics of the Avengers were trying to paint Bucky's case as one that could potentially bring down the whole team and give rise to measures that could greatly impede or altogether end their work, and that was fair to neither the team as whole or Bucky.

It would only serve as further fuel for Bucky's inevitable guilt, Summer knew, and there were moments where the magnitude of it all would hit her and she would wonder if they really could make it out of this and come out the other side at least mostly intact. Even if Bucky was eventually acquitted - and that was a massive _if_ \- what would reliving the horrors of his past and dragging everyone who cared about him through the mud _do_ to him once it was all over?

If she spent too long thinking of such things, she knew that eventually she'd be paralyzed by worry and anxiety, so she kept busy. And when the FBI went in and out of the tower over the next two days, setting up the perimeter that Bucky would be confined to, she didn't mind because she knew that it meant she was one step closer to getting Bucky back.

And when that day came, she bounded out of bed with more energy than she'd had in weeks and piled in a car with Steve, Matt, and Foggy, and rushed across town to finally bring her husband home. It would be a surprise for the kids, since her irrational fear of telling them that their Daddy was coming home only to have everything suddenly fall apart and crush their hopes kept her from telling them, but she was pretty sure they wouldn't hold it against her.

The whole way there, she prayed that her fears were indeed silly and that everything would go as planned. And for once, they actually did.

* * *

Upon arriving at the FBI building, the group was led to a small waiting area. They were instructed to wait there and that Bucky would be brought to them there, so they each sat and patiently waited as they were told.

Summer was so nervous and amped up that she feared that she may shoot up through the ceiling and explode at any given minute. Sitting down by her feet was a bag she'd brought for Bucky, containing clothes and shoes for him and, because she was Summer, snacks like muffins she'd made and a few other things he liked. She was aware that he probably wouldn't want to eat anything on the very short ride home, but she couldn't help herself.

"So," she said to Matt and Foggy, trying to start a conversation before she lost her mind, "are you guys coming back to the tower with us after we get him?"

"Well, we need to make sure that he gets settled in properly," Matt replied. "He'll need to get a monitoring device on as soon as we get there, and we'll also be making sure that you guys aren't being _overly_ monitored."

"You mean like make sure they don't secretly set up a camera in our bedroom?" Summer asked.

"Among other things," Matt nodded.

"Okay. Yeah. Good idea, because the last thing I need is an accidental sex tape leak." She then paused, cringed, and said, "I'm sorry, I babble when I'm nervous."

Foggy laughed and coughed at the same time, and Steve smiled put an affectionate hand on her arm. "It's okay. We'll make sure there's no cameras in there."

"Definitely not the kind of public relations you want," Matt said with a faint grin, and Summer rolled her eyes at herself before laughing and shaking her head.

"See, this is why I should never give interviews to anyone," Summer said. "I'd probably say the stupidest things and end up getting ripped to shreds."

"I'm not sure about that," Matt replied. "Given how public this case is, you're going to have start thinking about how to handle the press. You can't hide from it, and it could end up working to your advantage."

"... Yeah, but maybe that should be left to Steve," Summer said with a shrug. She then looked at Steve and said, "You're so much better than me at... speaking, in general."

"You sure about that? You're the writer," he pointed out, and before she could reply with all the reasons why being able to write and verbally speak were two completely different things, the sounds of footsteps approaching down the hallway behind the closed doors of the waiting room stole both of their attentions.

It took all of Summer's self control to stay seated and not jump up to press her face against the door to peer through it, but she somehow managed to stay put. Then the footsteps stopped and the doors opened, and a few heavily armed guards walked Bucky through them.

It was the first time that she'd seen him unrestrained since the day that they'd taken him. He was still in prison clothes and his hair had grown a few inches during his incarceration, but he looked a little better that day, undoubtedly because he was indescribably relieved to be going home.

The minute that his eyes met hers, Summer's self control flew out the window and she leapt out of her chair and ran the short distance to him. She hit him with enough force that he swayed back for only just a second as her arms wrapped around him and her face buried itself in his neck. She hadn't gotten to so much as brush his hand in two months, and she'd been waiting so long to hold him again that it almost didn't feel real.

His arms almost immediately rose up and closed around her, hugging her back lightly at first and then nearly crushing her to him. One of his hands went to the back of her head and his eyes closed as his nose skimmed her hair, taking in the familiar, comforting scent of it, and when Summer managed to pull away, she only did so she could take his face in her hands and kiss him.

The kiss was short but more emotional than any in recent memory, an expression of everything they couldn't say to each other in a roomful of other people. When it was over she smiled and still held her hands on his face, her eyes shining with unshed happy tears as she said, "I'm sorry, I just... I couldn't help myself, it's been so long..."

He nodded, his right hand briefly cupping her cheek as he looked at her with eyes that were haunted but, in that moment, so happy to have her back in his arms and be free that his small smile wasn't the least bit forced. "I know. I love you."

"I love you too," she whispered back before kissing him one last time, neither of them caring one bit about the guards looking on or what they might have thought. They'd earned their happy reunion, as short as it was, and they soaked it up like water in the middle of a desert.

Summer, after forcing herself to pull away from him, glanced at the guards and then reluctantly took a step away from Bucky, though she kept her hand linked with his - her right with his left.

One of the guards handed Summer a plastic bag, muttering, "Personal effects." She nodded and took it, and then another guard said, "You'll be escorted to the tower by a few of our agents who will fit you with a monitoring device and make sure the terms of bail are being met."

The guards then left them there to stand outside of the doors, and the minute that they closed, Summer let out the breath she'd been holding. She also let go of Bucky's hand so that Steve could properly hug him next.

As Steve squeezed his best friend and muttered irrational apologies that Bucky immediately shot down, Summer glanced down at the bag in her hands and peeked inside of it. His clothes from the day of his arrest were in there, along with his phone that had been undoubtedly wiped for data, a hair tie, his shoes, and his wedding ring. She plucked the ring out, then set the bag down next to the one that she'd brought for him on the floor.

Steve pulled away from Bucky, giving his back a few pats and looking perhaps like he was trying not to get overly emotional himself. Then Summer walked quietly back to Bucky's side, grasped his right hand and slid the wedding band back on to his finger. She looked up at him after, and his jaw clenched as he looked from her eyes to the ring and then back to her.

She smiled at him, then linked her hand back with his and gave it a soft squeeze. He then turned towards Matt and Foggy and told them quietly, "Thank you."

"It's our pleasure," Matt replied with a nod. "We're as surprised as you are that they took our deal."

"It's true. It was mostly my idea, by the way," Foggy added with a slightly cheeky smile. Bucky almost smiled back.

"We should get going," Steve said. "Get the stuff at the tower over with so you can settle back in."

"Oh," Summer said, letting go of Bucky's hand to grab the bag that she'd brought. "I brought you clothes. And food. I don't know if you're hungry, but just in case, I brought muffins and a granola bar and... yeah."

_That_ brought a smile to Bucky's face. He took the bag from her and pulled out his clothes, then started changing without a second thought. She was glad, because she couldn't stand one more minute looking at the standard-issue prison clothes.

Once he looked like himself again and was in jeans, a black shirt and a dark blue jacket, Summer also pulled off an extra hair tie from her wrist and handed it to him. He took it with an audible sigh of relief. He was clearly _very_ sick of his long hair, and she couldn't blame him.

"Ready?" Steve asked once Bucky's hair was tied up and out of his face at last.

"_God_, yes," Bucky replied, reaching out to take Summer's hand one more time.

On their way out, Bucky got a certain sad look on his face and then said so quietly that only she could hear, "I missed Adelaide's birthday."

Summer shook her head. "No you didn't. Her party's tonight. She doesn't know the difference and I wasn't gonna have you miss it."

His eyes softened, her words surprising him, and he asked softly, "Do they know I'm coming home?"

She shook her head. "It's a surprise."

Their brief conversation then ended when they walked out of the doors and were then escorted back towards the garage, but Bucky's expression remained hard to read. He seemed relieved and happy to be going home of course but equally guarded, like maybe it was all an illusion or something that the courts would revoke out of the blue and leave everybody even more devastated than they already had been. Summer couldn't blame him, because in the back of her mind, she had the same fears.

But she stayed focused and stayed positive, not letting go of Bucky's hand once as they made their way through the building. Once they got to the garage and they all got inside of the car, she and Bucky and Steve took the backseat - which was thankfully roomy - and Foggy drove while Matt took the passenger seat. Then two cars full of agents and techs followed them on to the road and towards the tower.

Bucky stayed quiet, his eyes drifting from either the city to Summer or Steve, and the short ride was nearly silent. Summer was bursting with questions for him - _how did he feel, was he hungry, had they fed him, did they hurt him, had he been sleeping, were the nightmares back?_ \- but she kept it all inside, not wanting to overwhelm him or bring up anything unpleasant. Mostly, she just wanted to get him home, get the stupid ankle bracelet on him, and then finally get the damn FBI out of their hair.

And that was exactly what happened. They arrived at the tower, led the agents up the private elevator and to the floor that they lived on, and the entire process ended up being fairly quick. With the kids out with Darcy for lunch, the agents calibrated the device and then attached it to Bucky's ankle, explained where he could and could not go with it, and what would happen should he breach the conditions. They also explained that they had access to surveillance of the common areas of the floor but would not be watching around the clock - rather, they would only check in if they had a reason to, like the ankle monitor giving an alert.

Once everything was explained and all the necessary things were in place, the agents left. Tony had been there to "supervise" it all, and as Bucky sat at the kitchen table with a surprisingly sleek and waterproof (and bulletproof) ankle monitor on his right leg, Summer finally let herself breathe.

He was home. He was okay. He was no longer suffering alone. She could care for him again and they could face this fight together instead of through a glass window once a week.

First thing was first: kiss him again, tell him how happy she was to have him home, and then fix him his first real meal and cup of coffee in two months.

* * *

"Well, that could have gone worse."

Bucky glanced up at Tony, who had been the one to utter that sentence, and he found it hard to believe that any of this was real. He was at the tower, no longer in a dark cell underground with the world's smallest cot and nothing to do but think until he went crazy. He wasn't free, exactly, but he was safe and the smell of coffee and pancakes were in the air.

And it was all in large part thanks to Tony himself.

Bucky watched quietly as Steve and Tony talked, Matt or Foggy chiming in here or there, and it struck him how very instrumental each of them had been to him being allowed to go home. Steve was campaigning in the press on his behalf, his lawyers were dealing with the headache of the courts and the FBI, and Tony... Tony had paid $15 million to post bail for his own father's killer to be allowed to go home and be reunited with his family while he awaited trial.

How could such a thing ever be repaid? It simply couldn't be.

And behind him, Summer, a woman who he would never deserve and was nothing short of a goddess in his eyes, was bustling about fixing him food and working so very clearly hard on helping him feel okay again.

He didn't deserve her. He didn't deserve any of them.

Steve's phone rang, drawing him away for a moment. That was when Tony glanced Bucky's way, paused for a moment as if thinking, and then walked over to sit at the table in a chair next to him.

"So," Tony said, "hanging in there?"

Bucky nodded. "Yeah."

"Good. I do know what it's like being stuck in a dark cave for awhile. Starts to really screw with your mind."

Bucky stared at the other man for a moment before furrowing his brows slightly, wondering how in the world to say what he wanted to say. He ended up taking the simple route. "Thank you."

"For the giant check I wrote the government? Yeah," Tony nodded. "No problem."

Bucky shook his head slightly and replied quietly, "I never would have asked you to do that. You didn't have to. You -"

"Yeah, and a couple years ago I would have let you rot in there. Funny how things change, huh?"

That was when Summer came over and set down an enormous plate in front of Bucky, along with a mug of coffee that immediately made his mouth water once the aroma wafted up to his nose.

Tony looked at the food and then asked Summer expectantly, "Where's mine?"

She smiled and simply gave him a big hug instead. Tony chuckled and told Bucky over Summer's shoulder, "This is what she does now. Hugs me. Constantly. It's getting exhausting, honestly."

"Yeah right," Summer chuckled, pulling away and then turning her attention back to Bucky. "Darcy's on her way back with the kids, so... maybe ten more minutes."

That gave him just enough time to scarf down all the food and get some of his energy back before he was at last reunited with their two kids. He nodded, and then Summer looked at Matt and Foggy and asked, "Pancakes?"

Both of their replies came simultaneously.

"That's not necessary, but thank you."

"Oh please, yes."

Summer laughed, eyeing Matt first and then Foggy, who glanced at Matt and shrugged, "What? I'm hungry, and do you know how long it's been since I've had homemade pancakes?"

"We have work to do," Matt said, turning back towards Summer, "and I wouldn't want us to impose."

"Okay, you're aware that you two are a _huge_ part of the reason why I have my husband back and he's not gonna miss our baby's first birthday, right?" Summer asked, ready to not take no for an answer. "Sit down and eat. Please. It is the absolute very least I can do."

She talked them into it, and as they made their way to the table, Summer assured Tony he'd get served next and then bustled back off towards the pancakes which, thankfully, she had made the day before and only needed to reheat. Bucky watched her with a quiet admiration, as always aware of her ability to keep going and take care of people even when he could tell how little she'd been taking care of herself.

She was visibly thinner than she'd been two months ago, and when he had hugged her back at the FBI building, he had felt how bony she'd grown in such a short amount of time. He could imagine all too easily her going about her day, taking care of the kids and making phone calls and dealing with the mess that he'd made when he had been arrested, barely stopping to eat a full meal once throughout the day. He knew how she got, how her anxiety could sap her appetite and make her simply forget to eat, but he had been hoping that Steve or Natasha would have kept an eye on her and made sure that she took care of herself. Then again, they had all been busy and chances were that they _had_ tried.

He wasn't at all surprised when Steve ended up at the table with his own big plate of food, all of the men eating and complimenting Summer on her cooking skills - Foggy especially, who was in heaven - while she sat next to Bucky with just a cup of coffee in her hands.

He was halfway through his own plate when he became genuinely full. He had been refusing food most of the time, like an idiot, and his stomach had shrunk considerably during his time away. So, he slid his plate to Summer and gave her a look that said _eat this and do not even attempt to argue with me_.

She looked at him in surprise and then shook her head. "Oh, no, no, I'm fine. I'm not hungry."

He stared at her both incredulously and knowingly, and he was about to argue when her phone buzzed with a new test. She quickly read it and then smiled at him excitedly. "Darcy's here."

Tabling his scolding for a later time, he straightened up and felt a sudden burst of his own anxiety fly through his stomach. He'd been missing David and Adelaide so badly, torturously imagining in his solitude what it would be like to come home to their hugs and Adelaide's squeals and David's big brown eyes saying what his verbal words never did. But now that the moment was here, what if it went completely differently? Adelaide was so tiny still, just barely one - what if she had forgotten him, or at the very least needed to warm up to him after being separated for so long? What if David was mad at him for leaving, what if -

"You okay, Bucky?" Steve asked, breaking him out of his sudden panic.

Bucky nodded. "Yeah. I'm fine."

He wasn't, but everyone was well aware of that already. Summer stood up and took his hand, guiding him up to his feet as she hurried towards the elevator. She stopped halfway there and then told him to wait there before she continued on, and he put his hands in his pockets and waited impatiently.

He watched as the elevator doors opened, his eyes on Summer as she knelt down, probably in front of David, and spoke to him in hushed tones. Above her, he could see Adelaide's foot hanging off of Darcy's hip - clad in a purple sparkly boot - but that was all, and he was suddenly so nervous he could hardly move.

But then Summer straightened up and was guiding David forward, covering his eyes while Darcy did the same with Adelaide. Summer grinned at Bucky, and he managed to _just_ grin back before she and Darcy had walked half the way to him. Then she said "Surprise," and pulled her hands away at the same time as Darcy pulled hers from Adelaide's eyes.

David dropped the drink he'd been carrying to the floor in shock. His eyes were as big as saucers, and from Darcy's arms, Adelaide took one look at Bucky and pointed at him and _squeaked_, "Dada!"

David started running as soon as he realized that Bucky was real and not some bizarre figment of his imagination. Adelaide squirmed and pushed at Darcy until she put her down, and then all of Bucky's momentary fears vanished as both kids came running to him. He knelt down, smiled and felt his eyes start to get watery as he held out his arms and caught David in them first.

David launched himself at him so fiercely Bucky was briefly astonished by the kid's strength. And then, just behind him, Adelaide was running on her much shorter legs and, much like her mother had done on multiple occasions, she tripped and hit the floor. There was a collective _oh no! _from everyone, including Bucky, but the tough little girl merely giggled and got right back up, then jumped into Bucky's other waiting arm.

And then, for a few blessed moments in time, everything was all right. He didn't think about the trial or the challenges that he faced, the hardships that were only beginning and the ways in which everything would only get more difficult as time went on. None of that mattered for a little while, because he was back where he belonged and he had his two precious kids back in his arms, and he felt like he'd just gained back two irreplaceable pieces of himself that he could hardly breathe without.

He kissed David's forehead, through his hair, then grinned down at Adelaide as she looked up at him and kept chanting _dada_ over and over. He kissed her next, on her cheek and then her forehead, and he squeezed them both and told them that he loved them and had missed them more than words could say.

As he held them close, Bucky looked up at Summer and grinned at the happy, teary smile that graced her face as she looked on. Behind him, back at the table, Steve and Tony were watching as well, and Foggy told Matt, "If you could see this right now, you might die from the cuteness."

"I can hear it," Matt replied with a small smile. "The little girl is very... squeaky."

"I do think she's broken her previous squeak record," Tony noted. "This is even surpassing that one time I tried to bribe her into letting me hold her by giving her pixie sticks."

"She stayed up until four in the morning," Steve recalled. "Summer almost killed you."

"Yeah. Think I've made up for it, though," Tony said, and Steve wholeheartedly agreed.

Meanwhile, David finally let go of Bucky and then let him stand back up. David turned back to Summer and started rapid-fire signing, and she fought to keep up with it and then smiled, "Yep, he's staying home with us now. He still has to go to court and it's going to be like it is on TV when someone goes on trial for something bad they did, but he gets to live with us while it happens."

David understood then, as best as he could, and then he turned around and beamed up at Bucky before grabbing his hand and dragging him away. Bucky, holding a still-babbling and incredibly happy Adelaide close, grinned at Summer and then let David drag him down the hallway and towards their room.

"Oh I know what he's gonna show you," Summer smiled as she followed them. "You're not gonna see this one coming."

Bucky glanced at her in curiosity just before David threw open the door to Summer's room and brought them all inside. Bucky looked around, finding the room mainly as it had looked back when they had lived in the tower before, but his attention was stolen by a little black blob of fur uncurling right in the center of the bed and then looking up at them with his bright green eyes as if to say _who dares to disturb my nap?_

"... It's a cat," Bucky said, stating the obvious.

David raced off to grab the cat, and Summer explained, "Yeah... he found it outside one day, with Darcy. I wasn't sure about it at first, but the kitty's helped him out a lot. It's been a good distraction for him and Addie. They absolutely adore him."

To prove her point, David then came back with the kitty in his arms, smiling proudly as he held him up for Bucky to see. Bucky eyed the thing a bit warily, and then he reached out with his free hand, his left, to pet the kitty's head. The coldness of it made the kitty flinch, but then he got used to it and purred happily, closing his eyes.

"Oh good, he likes you," Summer said. "He's very picky about people. He doesn't like Steve and he absolutely despises Tony. Like he hisses if Tony even looks at him."

"What's his name?" Bucky asked, still not really sold but, if the kitty made his kids happy, that was all he needed to know to gladly tolerate it.

"... We haven't figured that out yet," Summer shrugged. "We just call him Kitty right now."

"Looks like a spoiled brat," Bucky chuckled as he pulled his hand away and was immediately met with the kitty's eyes opened and shooting him a look like _excuse me, I didn't say you could stop_. Definitely a spoiled brat.

Adelaide then started squirming to get down, and as soon as Bucky set her down she grabbed the kitty from her brother and snuggled it before sitting down to play with it. Bucky sat down on the edge of the bed and Summer did as well, both of them watching the kids play and show off how awesome the kitty was. Summer's hand quietly slipped into Bucky's, and he turned and looked at her to find a soft, gentle smile on her face as her fingers twined with his.

"I can't even tell you how happy I am to have you home," she told him quietly. "I'm just... I'm _so_ happy."

He smiled at her, a little smile that felt strange to him after two months of convincing himself of the lack of hope and the futility of dreaming of home. But now he was here, at the tower with his kids playing at his feet and his wife at his side, and he could still hardly believe that it was real.

He kissed her, softly and briefly but enough to let her know that he felt just the same as she did. She then laid her head on his shoulder, and he wondered being allowed home like this wouldn't just end up being even more cruel if he was eventually sentenced to death or life in prison. Maybe it was, but it ultimately didn't matter because he wouldn't have dared chosen any differently.

Adelaide looked up at him and smiled, then whooped with laughter when the kitty playfully jumped at her. She fell backwards, giggling all the while, and Bucky let himself laugh for the first time in ages. It was good to be back. It was much more than merely _good_.

* * *

Summer was happy. She was all abuzz with newfound energy and cheer, and it only grew when Nicolo and Estsban arrived ready to help her transform their floor into a little girl's birthday paradise.

The two men were nearly literal lifesavers, arriving with two cakes - one giant one for everybody and one little one for Adelaide to smash her pretty little face into - and several huge bags full of only the very best decorations. Everything was pink and covered in princesses, which would likely make David shudder but would utterly dazzle his sister.

The three of them got to work while Bucky kept the kids inside of their room. As they worked on blowing up balloons and hanging the birthday banner and an obscene number of streamers, the party's guests began slowly trickling in. First there was Sam and Wanda, the first to come home that day from working at the facility, and Clint wasn't far behind. Tony and Pepper were set to come by later, and Summer had made Matt and Foggy _swear_ to come back for it after they had left a few hours before. Steve had headed out for a bit, and the last to arrive would likely be Natasha, who had been holding down the fort for Steve at the facility all day. Paul and Sarah along with their entire brood of kids were on their way.

Summer's enormous pile of gifts for Adelaide were all on top of the equally enormous kitchen table, which was also where the banner and bulk of the balloons were hanging from. Everyone who came brought a gift as well, by the time that everybody would get there, she would have a small mountain of gifts to unwrap. That was if she even _wanted_ to unwrap them - babies were tricky like that.

"Once again," Esteban said after everything was finished and the three of them were standing back to admire their good work, "I astound myself with my own brilliance."

"... All you did was blow up balloons and help me hang up the banner," Nicolo pointed out.

"Excuse you," Esteban retorted, "_I_ did all the shopping and picked _everything_ out."

"I found the cake lady who gave us the little baby cake for free," Nicolo argued.

"You know what," Summer smiled, putting her arms around both men, "you're both amazing and I could kiss you both for helping me so much. Actually, I think I will." She then laid two smackers on each of their cheeks and then hugged them tighter as they laughed. "There. Now where is everybody?"

"Right here," Clint said, hovering over the big cake and shoving his hand behind his back, totally not like he had been about to steal a taste of the icing or anything. He slowly backed away after Summer shot him the stink eye.

Meanwhile, Sam was shaking one of Adelaide's presents and listening to its contents rattle. Summer looked at him in confusion and he said, "What? I wanna know what's in _everybody's_ presents."

Summer grinned and then began walking around, double checking that everything was ready and in its correct spot. She couldn't get the party started until Steve, Natasha, and Paul were all there, so she took the bit of downtime to clean up the mess, have a snack, and catch up with Esteban and Nicolo, who she hadn't seen as much of lately as she would have liked.

Then, nearly an hour later, Paul arrived first with his big fat family, and then Steve and Natasha also returned. Since all the critical people were back, Summer excitedly dashed off to her room and burst inside of it. What she found was so cute that she could have simply expired where she stood.

On the bed, the birthday girl herself was curled up on her father's chest, taking a nap, and snuggled on Bucky's other side was the kitty. David was sitting next to him, petting the kitty and watching a movie on the TV, which Bucky had also been watching until Summer had opened the door.

"Aw," she smiled quietly, stepping inside and carefully walking to the bed. Bucky grinned up at her, clearly happy with the arrangement, and she said, "Almost everybody's here. We're ready."

"Doesn't look like she is," Bucky replied, looking down at the blissfully peaceful face of his daughter.

Summer nodded, touching Adelaide's little fat cheek and then glancing at the kitty. "Dang. Someone really _does_ like you."

"He just climbed up here and fell asleep," Bucky shrugged. "I don't get it."

"Believe it or not," Summer grinned, "you are extremely likable. But we've gotta wake this baby up. Otherwise she'll be up all night."

Bucky nodded, and then he sat up fully and they began the rather daunting task of waking a happily sleeping baby. First they tried talking and gentle jostling; she merely snuggled closer to Bucky and stayed fast asleep. Summer then tried changing her diaper, since that normally pissed her off enough to wake her, but no dice. She even changed her clothes and dressed her in the special pale pink and aqua blue birthday tutu dress that she'd bought for the party, but she remained all but dead to the world. It was time to break out the big guns.

The big guns was the "Everything is Awesome" song from _The_ _Lego Movie_. When awake, the song made her bounce and giggle from one end of the room to the other. When asleep, it woke her right up. And that time was no exception.

She was grumpy though, so Summer let her nurse for a bit before trying to get going. It leveled out her mood and woke her up fully, and after she was done, Summer asked her, "Ready to go open all your presents? Everybody's here - Uncle Steve, Auntie Nat, Uncle Paul..."

"Dada!" the baby replied, grinning and pointing to Bucky happily.

Summer smiled widely. "That's right. Daddy's here, too."

Adelaide then babbled _dada_ over and over, scrambling off of Summer's lap and going back to Bucky. Bucky grinned and scooped her up, getting off the bed and saying, "All right, let's go spoil you rotten."

Summer chuckled and then got up along with David, and she grabbed one more thing that was very important to put in place before they walked out to the party: a sparkly light up tiara that said _birthday girl_ in big pink letters. Once it was on her daughter's head, _then_ they were off.

Summer and Bucky were both in for a surprise of their own. While Summer had been trying to wake Adelaide up, Esteban and Nicolo had added another banner to the bevy of decorations - one that said _welcome home, _just for Bucky. And as much as the gesture touched her, Summer saw just how much it meant to Bucky as well when she looked up at him and saw the surprise in his eyes.

Paul was the first to grab Adelaide and give her a big hug, while Natasha waited her turn and gave Bucky a touch to his arm and told him she was glad to have him back. He smiled at her and thanked her quietly, and then Wanda gave him a hug that only took him a little by surprise. Next came pats on the back from Sam and Clint and more smiles, and Adelaide ended up in Natasha's arms next. She hogged her for a bit, not letting Steve or Clint have a turn, and they both cried foul as David made a beeline for his sole male cousin and started showing off the kitty who was unsurprisingly nestled in his arms. The cousin, Gabriel, wasn't impressed, but all of Paul's daughters flocked to David and began all but drooling over the kitty.

Everything was loud and cheerful and it was a hugely welcome change from the mostly silent somber mood that so much of Summer's days had suffered from.

The first thing they did once everyone had settled down a bit was start opening presents. Adelaide ended up being a natural at it, tearing off the wrapping paper with gusto, and David insisted on being the one to help her with the ones that she had trouble with. Nicolo took pictures as she devoured her gifts, some of them small like a teddy bear that David had picked out for her and others larger like a princess castle set from Summer. And then, when Adelaide opened up what turned out to be an oversized stuffed Hello Kitty and proceeded to hug it like it was her favorite thing of all, Bucky looked at Summer with an expression as if he could have cried right then - the reason being that he'd seen that same toy in a store months before and had thought that Addie would love it. Summer had gotten it so that even if Bucky hadn't made it to her birthday, there would still have been a gift that was genuinely from him.

Tony and Pepper arrived just in time to give their own present, which was a rather huge ball pit that made both Adelaide and David's eyes nearly fall out of their head. Steve was recruited to help Tony assemble it, and the very moment it was together, both kids - and Sam, because _hello, giant ball pit_ \- dove into it. Darcy ended up jumping in, too, and that was the chaos that Matt and Foggy showed up to.

A stray ball flew right at Matt's face, and Summer was about to yell at him to watch out when he ducked just in time to avoid impact. She paused and then glanced at Bucky, who seemed to be as equally impressed and confused as she was, and then she shrugged and jumped up to greet them. On her way there, Vision flew right past Foggy and nearly made him faint on the spot as he gasped _what the hell is that?_

After laughing and introducing the two men to the android in their midst, Summer gave both Foggy and Matt hugs, both for coming and for simply existing. If she'd had any doubts on hiring them, they had certainly been obliterated the moment Bucky was freed on bail. She chatted with them, complimenting Matt on his more casual look - he was rather pretty, now that she was less miserable and able to notice such things - and she was in the midst of laughing with them when she glanced over to where Bucky had been and realized that he was gone.

She looked around, but he was nowhere to be found. She couldn't help the sick feeling that instantly unfurled in her gut, nor the way that her face paled as her eyes began scanning the whole area more frantically.

Natasha saw this and quickly reached out to her, tapping her arm to get her attention. "He's out on the balcony. He's fine. Just seemed like he needed a minute alone."

"Oh. God, thank you," Summer gushed. "I thought... I don't even know what I thought, I just..."

"I know," Natasha nodded. "Go on, check on him. I'll keep an eye on the little ones."

Summer gave Natasha her deepest thanks before quickly heading Bucky's way. She didn't once consider if maybe he was better off getting a breather alone, mainly because she felt like such a failure for not even noticing when he'd left. She'd _just_ gotten him back, and she was already letting herself get distracted and miss his cues for when he needed something.

She found him out on the balcony alone, leaning on the rail and gazing out at the skyline with a thousand yard stare. She knew that he could hear her coming, but she still approached him slowly and quietly. She took her place next to him, one of her hands also gripping the rail, and she looked up at him cautiously as she said, "You okay?"

"Yeah," he nodded, blinking out of his stare and refocusing. "Yeah, I'm fine. It just got really loud and I... I don't really know, actually. Just needed a minute, I guess."

Summer nodded, reaching out and placing her hand on top of his own. "It's okay. If this is all too much for you, don't feel like you have to endure it. You've been through a lot, and I don't expect you to just... bounce back and everything be fine right away."

He shook his head, staring forward. "It's my daughter's first birthday. I _have_ to be there."

"Yeah, but... after we do the cake, I wouldn't hold it against you if you wanted to go and be alone while the party finishes up. Just... whatever you want to do, whatever you need, I want you to have it."

He glanced at her then, eyes conflicted. "But all these people are here and I owe them so much. And they put that banner up for me..."

"Yeah, they love you," she replied softly. "They also understand that you've been through hell. They're not expecting anything from you. You have to know that."

He looked away then, shaking his head again. "It's just... a few days ago I didn't think I was ever getting out of that cell. And now I'm here and I have you guys back and everybody's here and giving me hugs and..."

"It's too much?" she guessed.

He looked at her again, nodding almost imperceptibly. "I can't... relax, I can't stop thinking. I had Addie sleeping in my arms and all I could think about was how I'd better enjoy it while I can because soon enough I'll be back in a cell and I won't get out of it this time."

Summer moved closer to him, tugging him by his hand until he was facing her, slight shame and immense frustration in his eyes as she looked up into them. She brought both of her hands to his face and said, "Please don't dwell on that. I know it's hard not to - _trust_ me, I do - but look how far we've already come. And there are people who really do believe in you, people we've never even met who post stuff online and vote in polls, and they know you're innocent. We can win this. We _can_."

"But if we don't..."

She shook her head to hush him. "I don't accept that. I don't. I can't let myself believe that after all you've survived and the one in a million chances of us even meeting let alone getting married and having a family, that after all of _that_, it was just for nothing and you're going to be put away for crimes you didn't _really_ commit."

"But I did, Summer," he muttered. "I did, and the chances of me walking away from this..."

She swallowed, thinking for a minute, and then she replied, "They're a hell of a lot higher than the chances were of you picking _my_ doorstep to pass out on. Or the chances of me even existing because you saved my grandma from a concentration camp when she was on the brink of death. Or the chances of you falling in love with me. _Those_ were longshots. This honestly isn't."

Bucky stared at her for a moment before murmuring, "How can you believe that?"

"Because I have to," she replied. "And until you believe it too, I'll believe it for the both of us."

Bucky's frown deepened just slightly, but it was enough to spur Summer into pulling him closer and wrapping her arms around him once more. She held him close, her chin resting on his shoulder, and she wished that she could just... wave a magic wand or use some fairy-tale style spell to go back in time and take this all away, make it seem like nothing more than a bad dream. But she couldn't do any of those things, and all she could do was make sure that he knew he wasn't alone and that she would love him and give him everything he needed no matter what.

After she slowly loosened her arms and pulled away just enough to meet his gaze once more, she leaned in close and laid a soft kiss on his lips before saying, "Let's go back in and do the cake. Then after that, if you want you can go to bed, or just... get some time alone, or do whatever you need to do, okay?"

He nodded, though he then said, "I'm sick of being alone. And I can't sleep either. I haven't slept a whole night since... before."

She nodded understandingly. "Okay. Then just stay close to me. Try to tune out the noise if you can, and just... try not to think, okay? And if it all starts getting to you, let me know and we'll figure it out."

He nodded, and she smiled and gave him one more kiss before taking his hand in hers and leading him back out towards the party. She could only hope that the rest of the party would be easier for him, but if it wasn't, her feelings wouldn't be hurt in the least. He was doing the very best that he could, and she utterly hated that something so seemingly simple was so difficult for him.

Once they made their way out back to the party, Summer found that her kids had exited the ball pit and that Paul's daughters had commandeered it, and they were using it to wage all-out war on Sam and his newly recruited lieutenant, Clint. David was back with Gabriel, and they were both watching with fully rapt attention as Wanda performed rather impressive tricks for them, and _Adelaide_... she was sitting on Matt's lap and giggling joyously as she ripped his glasses off of his face. Natasha was sitting with them, laughing along with Matt at the baby's antics, and it wouldn't have been such a big deal if not for the little _look_ on Adelaide's face.

"Oh dear God," Summer said as she looked on. "Our daughter has her first crush, and it's on our lawyer."

Bucky groaned. "... I was starting to really like him, and then you go and say that."

"Well obviously I don't mean _crush_ crush," Summer waved him off. "I mean a sweet little innocent baby crush. And _look_ at her. She's in baby-love."

It was true. Matt poked her cheek to be silly, and she cracked up giggling and then smacked her forehead on his shoulder because she was so darn happy.

When Summer and Bucky made their way over to them, Natasha looked up at them and said, "I think someone's found their new favorite person."

"I can see that," Summer grinned.

"I swear I didn't even do anything," Matt chuckled, putting his glasses back on after wrestling them from Adelaide's grip. "I was just sitting here and all of a sudden there's a baby climbing up into my lap and smacking my face."

"She only does that to people she _really_ loves," Summer smiled back.

Just then, David's kitty went walking by, and Adelaide caught a glimpse of him and suddenly dove to the floor to go after him. "Ouch," Natasha remarked. "Looks like the kitty ranks a little higher than you."

"That's okay," Matt chuckled. "I knew I'd get boring sooner or later."

After grabbing the kitty, Adelaide came toddling back their way, kissing the kitty on his pink little nose while he merely remained still and took it. Then she took him to Bucky and handed him over, and once again, as soon as the kitty was in Bucky's arms, he was purring in bliss.

"That's so not fair," Summer said, watching as the kitty even let Bucky scratch his belly, which was shocking. "What a little jerk."

"A very pretty jerk," Natasha added. "You know, he kind of reminds me of Loki. Black fur, green eyes, acts like he's king of the world."

"Oh my gosh, you're right," Summer laughed before she suddenly froze and an invisible light bulb popped up over her head. "Loki. We should totally name him Loki."

Bucky looked at her pointedly. "You want to name an innocent cat after _that_ guy?"

"Well..."

"_Oki_!"

All eyes went to Adelaide, who grinned before jumping up and exclaiming once more, just in case they'd misheard her, "Oki! Oki! Oki!"

Summer then proudly turned back to Bucky with a smug smile. "Say no to that, I dare you."

Bucky merely shook his head and looked at the kitty as he said, "Sorry, man. Guess you're Loki now."

"As long as David approves," Summer nodded. And a few moments later, after David thought hard and decided the name was acceptable, he gave his blessing. The newest member of their little family was, rather humorously, _Loki_.

Following the impromptu christening of the kitty, Summer decided that it was time to get to one of the best parts of a baby's first birthday, which was the cake. She got the little round cake that was just for Adelaide and put it on the tray of her high chair, then had Bucky put her in the seat while she grabbed a sparkly "1" candle and put it in the center of the cake. Adelaide stared at it with great curiosity as Summer grabbed a lighter and told everyone to get ready and for Estsban to hit the lights.

Once the candle was lit and the lights were dim and more than one person was filming on their phones, Summer grinned and started singing the Happy Birthday song. Everyone soon joined in, including Bucky as he stood on Adelaide's other side, though David next to him kept silent and watched his sister with a big grin as she watched everyone sing and got a big smile on her face. Once the song wound to a close, Summer told Adelaide to blow out the candle, but as she'd expected, Adelaide didn't really get how to do it. And that was perfectly fine, because her parents and her big brother blew out the candle for her.

Everyone clapped, and Adelaide started laughing and clapping too. More pictures were snapped and Summer quickly removed the candle, setting it aside to save in Addie's baby book later, and then she began getting Adelaide's tutu dress off since, of course, a baby smashing a cake while fully dressed was never a good idea.

Darcy took over cutting the bigger cake for everyone while Summer set aside Adelaide's dress and then excitedly waited to see what she'd do with the cake. David as baby had shown no interest in his own first cake and had not only not touched it but not really eaten it either, and she knew that it wasn't uncommon. Addie was also a fairly clean child, the sort who would whine when her hands were sticky, so what she would choose to do with the cake was a great mystery.

First, she reached out and poked the side of the cake. Then she stared at her finger and the bit of frosting on it, and then she poked it again, harder that time. Her eyes got a little bigger and she looked like she was deep in contemplation, trying to figure out what the heck the thing _was. _Then she curled her hand into the cake and pulled away a fistful of it, and that was the moment that she giggled and decided that it was _awesome_.

She didn't actually eat a single bite, but she smashed the cake to bits and then pounded the tray in glee until every inch was covered in cake and frosting. She was so excited that she insisted on sharing the joy, reaching out and grabbing both Summer and Bucky's faces and getting the mess on them, and as for her brother, she picked up a handful of the cake and dropped it right on top of his head. Summer wasn't sure she'd ever seen the child so happy in her life. And she just might need a hose to get her clean later.

All in all, everything went perfectly. Bucky held himself together and the party grew a little quieter as the crowd thinned out. Tony and Pepper bade them farewell, and Paul and his gang were the next to leave. Matt and Foggy headed out next, and they narrowly avoided getting covered in cake as well. Esteban and Nicolo lingered a bit longer, helping Summer clean up all the wrapping paper and plastic dishes, and they made sure that Bucky knew how thrilled they were about his homecoming before they left. Then all that were left were the tower's regular residents, and it was time to get Adelaide cleaned off and her new toys to the room that Summer had set up for her and David.

It had been, for the most part, a _very_ good day. She hoped that Bucky's first night home would also be just as much of a success.

* * *

After the kids were all cleaned off and tuckered out and Summer was just about equally as exhausted, she tried to get them to go to bed in their own room but, completely understandably, they didn't want to be away from Bucky. And that was how the four of them plus little kitty Loki ended up curled up in bed, three out of five of them asleep.

Adelaide was tucked between Summer and Bucky, and David along with his kitty were sprawled out on the foot of the bed near their feet, like one would expect from a dog. But David liked it there because he could see everyone from that angle, and it was just about the only available space for him anyway.

That left Summer and Bucky awake, both of them lying facing one another and Bucky absently running the fingers of his left hand through his sleeping baby's hair. Adelaide and David looked most similar when they slept, angled a very specific way and with such peaceful looks on their faces that the calm was contagious.

"I missed this," Bucky said quietly, still staring at Adelaide and playing with her hair. "Towards the end it had been so long since I'd seen her and I didn't have a picture or anything, just my memory and... I had this stupid fear that I'd forget what she looked like, or what she sounded like when she laughs."

Summer frowned, her own finger tucked in one of Adelaide's little fists. She'd fallen asleep that way. "That's not stupid. I would have been scared of the same thing."

"Were they okay without me? _Really_?" Bucky asked her very seriously.

She paused before she slowly replied, "No. David had a really hard time adjusting and he had bad dreams a lot. He's had more meltdowns in the last two months than he had in the last two years. There were even days where he'd barely look me in the eye. Adelaide, she bounced back a lot faster, but... she's a baby. Babies are a lot tougher than we give them credit for."

Those words pained Bucky, and Summer could tell, but she also knew him and knew how he always needed the truth regardless of its nature. "And you?"

She paused and then shrugged, "I've just kept busy. Best way to keep myself distracted and not lose it."

"You've lost weight," he noted. "I didn't really notice until today."

"I... well, my appetite has just gone to hell," she replied. "I have to force myself to eat, and I _do_, but..."

He suddenly looked at her with concern and then muttered, "You're not... pregnant, are you?"

"No," she assured him. "I checked. Twice. Just to be sure."

He then nodded with visible relief in his eyes. They were silent then for a moment, until Summer took note of his general exhausted appearance but lack of sleepiness. "Want me to turn off the lights?"

"If you want," he shrugged. "I don't think I'm gonna sleep much tonight."

Frowning, Summer sat up a little and replied, "I could stay up with you."

He shot her a barely-there smile and shook his head. "_No_. You need your sleep."

"So do you."

Bucky paused and let out a short sigh. "I'll be all right."

But he wouldn't be, and they both knew it. "What about maybe... a cup of tea? I don't know... we could watch a movie. I could make you something to eat." When none of those things seem to rouse his interest, she glanced at the hair framing his face, loose from the bun at the back of his head that was more voluminous than she had remembered, and she then suggested, "I could cut your hair."

His eyes perked up then, but only for a moment before he said, "You don't have to do that."

She gave him a _look_. "I could be blind as a bat and I'd still be able to see how much it's driving you crazy. Come on," she said, sitting up carefully and swinging her legs over the side of the bed. "Let's get you looking like your old self again."

She then got up and headed into the bathroom, and just like she knew he would, he followed. She dug out all of her hair cutting tools and laid them out while he sat and took his hair down, the ends of it surpassing his shoulders just enough to have officially reached the point of being too much. She loved his long hair, but... a change was certainly in order, for more reasons than one.

He stayed quiet when she made her way over to him and dampened his hair slightly with water from the sink before combing through it, getting out every last tangle. She worked gently, tapping his shoulder to tell him to take off his shirt, and after he did, she put the scissors to his hair and spent the next twenty minutes carefully cutting it so that he looked more like his old self from the war and not the assassin created by HYDRA.

And that, Summer knew, was why he had been so agreeable to the idea. It wasn't so much the hair itself or his annoyance with it, but rather the image of it and what it would always represent and remind him of. As much fun as she'd had with the hair, seeing his mugshot with his hair long and loose around his face, just as it had been during his darkest days, had made her feel a nagging sense of guilt. It was only hair, yes, but the world was an appearance-obsessed place and, if he wanted to show it that he was no longer what he had once been, then the first place to start was his hair.

And when she was nearly finished, cleaning up the sides and making sure that it was all even, she found herself astounded by what a change a haircut could make. He was still exhausted and his eyes were still haunted, but he looked once again like the man he'd been on their first date all the way to their wedding day. She'd missed him like this, and she grinned as she set her tools aside and then touched his cheek while she admired her work.

"Feel better?" she asked with a small grin.

He reached his right hand up and closed his eyes in relief to not find a curtain of hair dangling over his neck or grazing his jaw. "So much better. Thank you."

"No problem," she smiled, standing between his legs and brushing back the few front pieces of hair that were trying to stick to his forehead. "I do love you like this. Reminds me of our wedding."

His lips quirked up in a smile, and his hands that had been dangling in his lap went to her hips, more of an instinctual movement than anything, and he said, "Yeah... I kinda missed you cutting my hair, honestly."

Her smile lingered, and it hit her all over again how incredibly lucky she was to have him back. Whether it was permanent or temporary didn't matter and she certainly wasn't going to think about it at that moment. Instead, she leaned down and kissed him - _really_ kissed him, for the first time that day.

It was slow and still tentative, and she gave him the chance to pull away if he wasn't quite the in right frame of mind to reciprocate. She leaned her forehead against his after her lips left his, waiting for him to give her a cue one way or the other. She had no expectations and would have accepted anything, but there was no denying the thrill that raced through her when he leaned up to capture her lips again himself.

It was no wonder then how she ended up sitting sideways in his lap, her hands in his newly shortened hair and his lips nearly desperate on hers. There was one big problem though, and she decided to give voice to it when they came up for air.

"The kids are in our bed," she said, a little breathless, "and we don't have a whole house to ourselves anymore."

He looked from her eyes to her lips and back again, and he seemed to be at a loss for solving their dilemma. At least until she glanced at the rather roomy and accommodating bathtub literally only a few feet away from them.

A few moments later, Bucky was locking the bathroom door while Summer felt the water as it filled the tub from the tap. She glanced over her shoulder and saw Bucky turn and look at his reflection blankly in the mirror above the sink, and the numb way that he stared at himself prompted her to straighten up and go to him.

She wrapped her arms around him from behind and gave herself a boost on her tiptoes so that she could put her chin on his left shoulder. She didn't mind the chill of the metal one bit - in fact, she had missed it greatly.

Neither of them said a word because neither of them needed to say anything. She knew that he was struggling with himself and his past as deeply as he ever had before, and he knew that she loved him unconditionally regardless of any of it. And that left them where they were, which was straining to reach somewhere in the middle where they could be on the same page.

As the hot water continued filling up the tub, she laid a soft kiss on the side of his neck and then reached her hands down to start undoing his jeans for him. He watched her in the mirror, nothing about it overtly sexual or innocent either, and that was what she was aiming for - just simply caring for him, regardless of where it led.

And that was how he ended up in the bathtub alone at first, sunk to the shoulders in water so hot that it felt like heaven. Summer was at his side, fully clothed and sitting on a little stool she used to sit on when she gave the kids their baths, and it was her mission to not have him lift a finger if he didn't have to.

First she washed his hair, taking her time with it and dragging it out by massaging his scalp in a way that had him relaxing and all but melting under her touch. His eyes were closed and lips slightly parted, both arms hanging limp over the sides of the tub, and inside she was full of glee that her plan was working. He deserved to feel good for a night, that much was unarguable.

Once she was finished with his hair, he was fully relaxed and nearly asleep, but her next actions slowly woke him up. She used a soft cloth and his own soap that he'd left behind before the arrest to wash the rest of him, and she did it just as slowly and deliberately as she had done with his hair. Her fingers gently kneaded his neck and shoulder muscles which were in great need of such a touch after the way that he'd been sleeping for two months, and his eyes opened by the time her hands had made their way to his chest.

She felt her cheeks heat up as their eyes met, but she didn't let the increasingly heated look in his gaze derail her from her mission. She kept her focus steady when his metal fingers brushed her chin and then tucked her hair behind her ear, and she even stayed strong when she ran the cloth down his legs and felt the way that he tensed every time she touched his thighs. If it had been any other time, she might have teased him purposefully, but such an idea was unthinkable that night.

Still, she kept it all innocent, even when she brought the cloth back up and over his stomach, carefully avoiding another part of him that her gentle touches had slowly awakened. She met his gaze again and felt a grin spread across her lips, and she let go of the cloth and let it float away so that it was just her palm on his skin under the water. Then his left hand slid behind her head and tugged her closer, and she nearly stopped breathing when she heard him groan the moment their lips touched.

He controlled the kiss, making it deep and heated from the start, and she knew all too well what he was asking for and what he wanted. And since this was all about comforting him and making him feel good, she didn't hesitate to tangle her tongue more deeply with his and slide her hand down his body until he broke the kiss to gasp softly at her touch. Her hand found him aching, more than ready for her and anything she was willing to give him.

Her eyes opened and found his open as well, fixed half-lidded on her as his lips parted further. She leaned in more, halfway in the tub herself at that point, kissing his neck as she _slowly_ began to move her hand faster. His hand clenched in her hair and he couldn't stay still, hips chasing her touch and breaths coming ever faster, and when she raised her head to kiss him again, his mouth devoured hers with a rough groan that sent her body tingling with her own need. She sped things up, knowing it was what he needed.

When they broke for air, he closed his eyes before leaning his head back briefly and _shuddering_, and she watched him greedily, feeling like she just might burst herself. But then he suddenly clenched his jaw and brought his head back up, all but gasping, "_Stop_, Summer, stop."

She immediately did as he said, letting go of him only to be grabbed by his two wet hands and nearly hauled right into the tub as she was. She managed to get her shirt off and had just kicked off her pajama pants when he pulled her into the water, straight on to his lap as he kissed her with a fierce hunger that felt as good at it hurt. He grabbed at her like she might disappear at any moment, and it was a flurry of rushed movements that got her bra and underwear off just before everything slowed back down and she held his gaze as she languidly sank down on him. His fingers dug into her hips and she watched the pleasure wash over his face, all of it heightening her own feelings and making her hold him as tightly as she could as she began slowly moving with him.

They kissed and clutched each other and, as things began to move faster, water splashed over the sides of the tub to the floor and on top of their discarded clothes. He kissed her desperately and quietly but roughly groaned into her mouth, her own mind leaving her as the heat and underlying emotions got to her and left her almost surprised to arch and use his neck to keep from crying out. It set him off just after, but he couldn't keep himself quite as quiet as she had, and she was perfectly fine with that.

Nothing about it had been rushed or rough or hard, but it left them no less wrecked in the aftermath. They stayed in each other's arms, still connected in every way that they could be and eventually opening their eyes and looking at one another in the quiet, pleasant haze. She ran her thumb over his flushed cheek, her brain fuzzy as she kissed him softly and then said, "I love you so much."

He groaned and kissed her again. "I love you too." Then he drew away just to look at her again, that loving and adoring look in his eyes melting her all over again as he added, "I can't believe you're real."

She knew that he didn't mean that in a cheesy greeting card sort of way, but rather in the sense that she was indeed real and not a figment of his imagination that he had dreamed up to stay sane while trapped in the government's cage. She smiled and quietly replied, "I can't believe you're finally home."

He almost broke then, and she could see it on his face. But before he could fall back into despair, she hugged him tight and held the back of his head as he laid it down on her shoulder. She kissed his wet, much shorter hair, holding him as close to herself as she could and _praying_ that she never had to say goodbye to him again.

Her hopes and prayers were all she had. They had to be enough for the both of them, since he seemed so low on both, but God help her if she wasn't going to fight with every last inch of strength in her being to see them both through it.

**A/N: So! A bit of a happier chapter this week, which I think was definitely in order :D There's a lot more to go, of course, and things MIGHT get worse before they get better, but... you'll all just have to read and see what happens :D and Matt and Foggy will both be around a whole lot as time goes on, so I'm super excited that you all have had such a good reaction to them being brought into things :) I'm definitely not the first to have the idea, but hey, what better choice of lawyers for Bucky's trial? And one review mentioned my Matt/OC story and the possibility of more of a crossover, and I'll say yes, there's a good chance Siobhan will eventually pop up in this story at some point :) I'm all about crossovers. **

**ANYWAY :D thank you guys for your lovely reviews and for being just fabulous and making my week with your feedback, and thank you to midnightwings96 for just being the absolute best and pretty much my favorite person EVER. The next update will hopefully come next week, but it might take me an extra week to get out because school just started up again for me and I've gotta do some catching up, PLUS I'm kind of working on part of a top secret future story, so... it might be a little longer for the next chapter. Just a heads up :D I love you all and see you soon! **


	56. Chapter 56

One week after coming home, Bucky was asleep in bed next to Summer and dawn was only just breaking outside of their windows. Adelaide was snoozing in her own bed which was only a few feet away from theirs, and all three of them were sleeping seemingly peaceful. But looks could be deceiving.

Bucky's nightmares used to be theatrical things where Summer would wake up right away the very minute he'd start writhing in misery or clenching his fists in the sheets, his distress obvious and easy to catch early. But now they seemed to come on much more subtly, and Bucky wouldn't move an inch as he dreamed. It was almost like he was paralyzed until he woke, forced to just lie there and watch his worst memories or fears play like a movie in his mind's eye. This time the nightmare wasn't of his memories but of his fears when it came to his family and their future, and those were always the very _worst_.

Sometimes he would dream of being ripped away from Summer and their kids again, or of them being taken from him, or some sort of combination of the two. He'd hear Adelaide's cries from the night he was arrested, see that look of innocent and heartbroken horror on David's face and watch tears fall from Summer's eyes once again, only with a sense of finality that was unmistakable. Every time, the worst part of the dream was the same: being utterly powerless to do a thing to protect his family and the people that he loved the most, and knowing that he'd never see them again.

Then, just as the dream was reaching its end, Adelaide's piercing, terrified cry in his ears jarred him awake. He shot up in bed out of a rapid, deep instinct, and he looked around wildly in the almost-dark as the sound of Addie's cries lessened from its terrified pitch to her more normal cry. As his eyes adjusted and the last traces of his dream faded, he blinked and realized that he was watching Summer walk over to Adelaide's crib and pick her up.

He furrowed his brows, still trembling slightly from the stupid dream as he muttered, "Summer?"

Adelaide quiet now that Summer had picked her up, Summer looked over at Bucky and then said with surprise, "Oh, you're awake. I'm sorry. Did I wake you up?"

He shook his head. "No. I think she did. I..."

Even in the darkness, Summer could see the lingering distress on his face and the sweat on his brow. She climbed back into bed with their baby and then reached over to briefly lay a soothing hand on his right shoulder. "Hey, you okay?"

He hand a hand through his hair, halfway expecting to find his long hair and then remembering that Summer had cut it a week earlier when he found nothing but short strands. "Not really."

"Nightmare?" she guessed, getting comfortable with Adelaide and nursing her.

Bucky leaned back against his pillows and the headboard, just a few inches between himself and Summer as he nodded. "Can't sleep for more than three hours before it starts. Every single night. It's just..."

"I know, I've noticed," she said sadly, touching his arm with her free hand. "You haven't slept this badly in a couple years."

He continued to stare off as her hand slid down to gently hold his. Her fingers intertwined with his own and it was a small, sweet comfort. "I'm so tired. I feel like I could sleep for a week, but..."

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Summer asked quietly, keeping her voice down for Adelaide's sake. She was already falling back asleep.

Bucky shrugged slightly. "I don't think so. Guess this is just how it is now."

Summer frowned sadly at that, glancing down at their baby before giving his hand a soft squeeze and saying, "Well... it's gonna be awhile until the trial actually starts. You can't live on three hours of sleep every night while we wait. It's gonna be months."

"I know," he muttered, and the thought of sitting around the damn tower for months just waiting to go on trial for his past crimes made his skin crawl with dread. It was better than being locked up beneath the FBI building, of course, but being imprisoned in the tower was still being imprisoned. And his mind didn't cope well with confinement. Panic was always just a thought away, on the edge of his mind, threatening to overcome him at any moment.

"I used to be able to knock you out," Summer said with a little smile. He looked at her, watching the smallest of blushes touch her cheeks. "But that didn't work the last time we tried it."

He smiled back weakly and regretfully. It was true. A few nights before, Summer had woken up with him in the middle of the night had tried to get him back to sleep through exhausting and relaxing him as best as she could. It had been wonderful and distracting, but after it was over she was the only one who drifted off into a mild coma. He'd held her in his arms stared up at the ceiling, a little more relaxed but still wide awake for the remainder of the night.

"Doesn't mean I don't enjoy trying," he replied with just a touch of a grin. She smiled back and then let go of his hand to fix her shirt, Adelaide already finished nursing and back into a deep sleep.

Summer gave the baby kisses on her fat little cheeks before getting up and carefully walking to her crib, depositing her there safely and making sure she stayed asleep before heading back to bed. Once she returned, she climbed in next to Bucky and motioned for him to come and lay in her arms, rather than vice versa. He didn't argue, gladly letting her gather him to her and laying his head just above her breast and closing his eyes.

She softly kissed his forehead, her fingers working gently and soothingly through his hair. He kept his eyes closed and wished for sleep to come, tired as hell and yet fully aware that he'd never get back to sleep that night. But he still tried, focusing on Summer's comforting touch and the sound of her heartbeat under his ear. His metal arm was slung lightly around her waist, curling protectively around her as he wondered how much longer he'd get to do this before they took him away again, for good this time.

It was in the midst of these morose thoughts that a warm ball of fur jumped on the bed and made a beeline to him, walking across Summer's stomach and then rubbing its whole little body against his face. He scrunched up his eyes and nose and then pushed the kitty away, muttering, "Go away, stupid cat."

But little Loki was determined, and after a bit more struggling and verbal insults, the kitten ended up curled up against Bucky's chest, under his arm, laying on Summer but purring contentedly for Bucky's sake. He rolled his eyes and muttered, "Little fucker."

Summer chuckled, petting the kitty's head. "Don't fight his love, honey. You'll lose every time."

Bucky sighed and gave up, letting the kitty be and closing his eyes again. "Do you work today?"

"Nope," Summer replied. She'd been trying to get back to work over the last week, disappearing up into her office for about five hours a day or so, because they needed the money and Pepper had told her that she'd have to get a new event planner if Summer didn't get back to work soon. She was dealing with a reduced workload, delegating what she could to her assistants, but soon she'd have to resume her previous level of responsibilities. "Off today. But Matt and Foggy are coming over around noon to talk about strategy and stuff."

Bucky wanted to groan, but he held it in and lightly nodded instead. He liked his lawyers and they seemed about as genuine as they came, but long meetings with them where they sat around and discussed his past crimes and evidence and brainwashing and potential prosecution tactics... it was difficult, to say the least.

The room soon fell silent, aside from Loki's purring and the soft sound of Summer's breathing. Bucky thought that she had fallen back to sleep, but then she spoke and took him by surprise. "I'm really sorry."

He looked up at her questioningly, furrowing his brows and asking, "For what?"

"For all of this," she replied, looking down into his eyes with what looked like the start of tears in her own. "It's my fault."

The sheer illogic of her words nearly broke his brain. "... _How_ could you possibly think that, Summer?"

"The stupid lease," she said. "That's how they found you. Through my name on our house. Didn't Steve tell you that?"

Bucky frowned. Steve _had_ told him that, as well as the fact that Brock Rumlow had been the one to point the Feds in the right direction. Find Summer, find the Winter Soldier, he'd told them in exchange for getting the death penalty and maximum security lockup off the table. All Bucky got from that was that he should have killed Rumlow when he'd had the chance, during their fight just before his and Summer's wedding.

"That's not your fault," Bucky told her, fully sincere. But she only scoffed.

"Yeah it is. If we had just stayed here and not gotten the house, they never would have found you."

Bucky shook his head. "No, think about what you're saying. Think about everything else your name is on, what it _has_ to be on. You work here. They would have found me no matter what, no matter where we were. It's my fault because I didn't kill Rumlow when I had the chance. I'm an idiot. I just..."

"_No_, you're not," she quickly countered. "I remember that fight. I remember how hard it was for you. You did the right thing."

Now it was his turn to scoff. "Yeah, and look at where it led us."

Summer couldn't seem to find anything to say back to that, at least not for a moment. Bucky was staring off again when she said softly, "I wouldn't change what happened. I don't think killing him was the answer. Maybe it would have delayed this, but... maybe this was always going to happen. Maybe it was inevitable."

Of course it was. Despite how far they had come - falling in love, getting married, becoming a family with David and then Adelaide, getting their very own house and living there blissfully while Summer realized her dream of becoming an author and Bucky became an Avenger at Steve's side - this was indeed always going to happen. He'd spilled too much blood and built up too much debt to not eventually be forced to pay it all back someday, one way or another. Really, maybe he was just lucky that they hadn't killed him on the spot, and even more lucky that they were actually giving him a trial when everybody already knew that he was indeed guilty.

"One thing I know," she said, her fingers under his chin gently guiding him to look up at her, "is that we are _really_ lucky to have people around us who really believe in you. Everybody helped me so much while you were away, and they care about you so much. Not just Steve. Nat, Sam, Wanda. _Tony_. So... I know how bad it looks right now and I'm scared out of my mind too, but... we _could_ win. We could, and then all of this could be behind us and nobody could ever come after you again."

He wanted to believe that. Just the mere thought made his heart ache, made him want to fight for that with everything that he had in him. And he _would_ fight, but... believing in that happy ending just wasn't something he could do.

Summer leaned down and kissed him softly, a comforting little touch that made his eyes flutter shut and mind be at peace for just a moment. He didn't know what he'd do without her. He'd surely lose his mind and what sanity was still in his possession.

After she pulled away and he took a moment to look into her eyes, he could see how desperately she was clinging to her hope, how tenuous of a thing that it was. She was trying to be strong for the both of them and be his hope when he had next to none, but it wasn't easy for her. He hated seeing that burden on her shoulders and hated knowing that he was the one to put it there. She would have been better off had they never even met, and believing that brought an extra layer of pain to his heart that he didn't need.

But he couldn't change any of that, or go back in time and make their present situation any different. He was here, she was here, and they needed each other more than ever.

She never made it back to sleep that morning, either, but she didn't protest and he was glad for it. They spent the rest of the morning just lying there, savoring the other's presence while they still could, knowing their days could be numbered.

* * *

That afternoon, Summer found herself at a familiar place. She was sitting at the massive kitchen table with Bucky on one side, Steve and Natasha on the other, Matt and Foggy across from her, a truckload of paper work and several electronic devices sitting on the table between them. Darcy was down at the other end of the table with the kids, helping David with his schoolwork in lieu of a formal tutor and feeding Adelaide her lunch. Darcy was, as always, a lifesaver who Summer owed the world to.

But for then, she focused on the task at hand, which was researching and brainstorming and trying to come up with an airtight defense for Bucky. As much as she believed wholeheartedly that he was innocent in every sense of the word, proving this to a jury wasn't quite as simple as she would have liked. And Bucky was going to have to relive the worst of his memories in order to give his defense the best shot.

Natasha slid a flash drive across the table to the lawyers, explaining, "These are the videos we recovered from HYDRA. One of them was recorded after the Howard Stark assassination."

"Is that the one you were telling us about?" Foggy asked Summer as he took the flash drive from Natasha, who rather obviously made him quite nervous from time to time. He reminded Summer of Paul, for whom it had taken months to get used to being in the presence of the famous Black Widow.

Summer nodded. "Yeah, it shows how confused he was afterwards. He was starting to remember, and then they just..."

After Summer trailed off, not wanting to say the words for the sake of sensitivity, Bucky pressed his lips into a thin line and then said, "They tried to force me down into the chair that they used to wipe my memory. I snapped and killed a couple of them before they strapped me down and did it anyway. Then that's it, that's where it ends."

Matt looked thoughtful, not particularly fazed by this, and then Summer looked around before asking, "Would that... be a problem, using it as evidence, since he... killed some people? Would it maybe... make him look worse?"

"Well, it was self-defense," Steve noted. "They were torturing him."

"We need to see the video before we can say," Foggy said, turning to Bucky. "But if it shows that you were non-compliant _and_ shows how they forced the electroshock, then that's really the most important thing because it's proof that you weren't co-operative. We need all the proof we can get that you were a victim and never a willing party to the crimes."

"And there's something else you both need to consider," Matt added, directing his words to Summer and Bucky. "I've said since the start of this that I fully believe we can prove your innocence. Most people, when they see the evidence, will understand what happened and that the guilt belongs with HYDRA. But a part of your defense will involve proving that you're also not _currently_ a threat."

"He's been working with the Avengers for a couple years now," Summer pointed out. "And he hasn't snapped and blown up a building yet. I think that's a pretty good sign."

"It is," Matt agreed, "but the prosecution's going to play on people's fear of the unknown. Here's a guy who obviously went through hell and was tortured within an inch of his life, killed a lot of important people _maybe_ against his will, but what's left after all of that? Do we really want someone like this free, roaming society, even if he was brainwashed into committing these crimes?"

"That shouldn't play into a jury's decision of whether he's guilty or innocent of specific crimes," Natasha said, listening carefully.

"It shouldn't," Foggy agreed, "but this is a dicey case. The prosecutor _knows_ he was brainwashed. Everyone knows that. So they have to do everything they can to plant doubt in the jury's mind and make them think he's dangerous."

"So what do we do?" Summer asked.

"My advice would be to use the media to your advantage," Matt replied. "There's no point in fighting the press. You're both all over it, and it's only going to get worse when the trial actually starts."

"So... embrace the media?" Summer surmised. "How? Maybe give some interviews or something?"

Foggy nodded. "You'd at least be getting your side of the story out. Right now it's mostly a back and forth between the the government and Captain America, which is fine, but..."

"But you don't want the government controlling the narrative," Darcy piped up from down the table, airplane-ing a spoon of applesauce into Adelaide's mouth. When everyone turned and looked at her, she looked back at them and said, "What? I'm working on my Master's in political science. I'm not useless."

Summer smiled. "Useless is the last thing you are."

"See, here's what I'd do," Darcy said, pushing her glasses further up the bridge of her nose. "Where do most people get their news these days?"

"Social media," Natasha replied.

Darcy nodded. "Exactly. Facebook, Twitter, you name it. And the government _kind_ of gets that, but not really. So if you want to get people's attention and try to make them see things your way, use social media. Do something that goes viral, like... I don't know, a picture, or you write that blog, so maybe a blog post. Or a video."

Summer glanced at Bucky, whose frown gave away how little he liked that idea. "Yeah... maybe. It's just that I've tried so hard to keep us private and keep the kids away from all of that, and..."

"That's understandable," Matt said sympathetically, "but realistically... it's a losing battle."

Summer sighed. Deep down, she knew that. She just didn't want to admit it.

But Steve saw the logic of the argument and was the first to endorse it. He looked at both Summer and Bucky and said, "They're right. People like transparency. Maybe laying low isn't the best idea. Maybe instead you should both get out there a little bit, show who you really are."

Summer let out a sigh, feeling a headache coming on. "Well... my blog is under my pen name, so we can't really use that."

"Actually, you could," Darcy replied. "You could tell all of your followers the truth. Post something on there, let it take off from the ground up."

Summer contemplated that. She hadn't posted a single thing on her blog since Bucky had been arrested, and some of her readers had dropped comments asking if she was okay thanks to her uncharacteristic absence. It would be one hell of a comeback to then reappear out of the blue and reveal her true name, and who her husband - codenamed _Batman_ \- truly was.

"I'd do a video," Darcy added, "but that's just me."

"A video of... what, though?" Summer asked.

"Introducing yourself," Darcy said. "And him. Thanking everyone for their support, just taking a minute to really show the world that you're real people and a real family. And that _he_," she gestured to Bucky, "isn't a psycho about to snap and go on a killing spree. I mean, aside from all the World War II stuff, all the world has seen of him are a couple of grainy pictures and videos of him trying to kill Captain America. This would be their first time seeing him as a husband and father, which is what you want."

Summer looked at Bucky cautiously, and she was not surprised to find a scowl on his face as he shook his head. "No."

Steve was the first to try to talk him into it. "Bucky..."

"No," he repeated. "I don't want her dragged into this. I don't want her face all over everything. People will... people are _vicious_ and -"

"With all due respect," Matt chimed in, "she's in the middle of this whether you want her to be or not. It's just the nature of the world in this day and age. What we're suggesting is you use that to your advantage. Show people a different side of you. Show them that you're not a threat. That you're a human being with a family, no different from them."

Bucky's jaw clenched and he looked at Summer pleadingly, and she hated seeing that look on his face. He wanted her to side with him but the more she heard, the more that she was convinced that it was their only move. The more they hid from the world, the more the world would think them suspicious and likely believe what they were hearing from the government and others who wanted Bucky to fry.

"I think they're right," she told him quietly, and the way that he looked at her before turning away and glaring at the table made her feel a twinge of guilt. She didn't want to add to his stress but she also wouldn't spurn a good idea just to spare him, either. And he always seemed to come around in time.

"Just think it over," Foggy told them when the disagreement became obvious. "No rush."

Bucky glanced at his lawyers, then muttered his excuses before getting up and taking a break from the meeting. He headed out of the kitchen and towards the nearest balcony, which was the only fresh air that he could manage to get without setting off the alarm on his ankle monitoring device.

Summer started to get up to go after him, but Natasha gestured for her to stay and keep talking, which really was what she needed to do. Summer nodded and then watched as Natasha got up instead, and somehow, she knew that Natasha was better equipped to handle this one instead.

Natasha joined Bucky out on the narrow, enclosed balcony, noticing the little black kitten that had followed him out there and was currently rubbing its entire little body against his legs. Bucky was ignoring the cat.

"Loki's really got a thing for you," she remarked, standing beside Bucky as he glared off into the city. The kitty ended up laying down on top of Bucky's foot and looking up at Natasha curiously, and since Bucky wasn't responding, she looked up from the cat to ask teasingly, "Is this your new brooding spot?"

He glared at her from the corner of his eye. "Do you want something?"

She furrowed her brows at him. "And what did I do to deserve the attitude?"

He sighed and then went back to staring at the skyline like it had personally wronged him. "Sorry. Just don't feel like talking."

"That's okay. You don't have to talk as long as you listen." She looked away, towards the same empty space that his eyes were locked on, then said, "I'd like to think that I know you pretty well by now. And you usually only do this quiet... angry staring thing when you know someone else is right about something and you're not happy about it."

"Insightful," he muttered. She grinned.

"Believe it or not, I happen to know something about the media. Hiding from it, then having to face it and let the world know everything you _don't_ want it to."

Bucky side-eyed her and said, "You _chose_ to leak all your secrets. I haven't chosen a damn thing."

"That's not true," she replied. "You knew the risks when all of this began."

He furrowed his brows. "When all of _what_ began?"

"You and Summer," Natasha clarified. "You're no idiot. You've known from the start that this could happen and you still chose to marry her and be the father of her children. Now you're being forced to make unpleasant decisions and I'm sure that it's not the last one you'll have to make before this trial is over."

"I just don't want them involved," Bucky muttered, his tone miserable. "I deserve all of this, but they don't."

Natasha rolled her eyes and had to stifle a humorless laugh. "You don't deserve this any more than they do, but that's beside the point. You're in it now - all of you - and there's nothing you can do to change it. And by the way, it's not your place to sideline your wife and try to tell her what she can and can't do to help you."

"You're full of opinions today," he noted, not sounding very happy about it.

"You know I'm right," she said lightly, shooting him a small smirk. "As usual."

He looked at her skeptically, though in reality he was well aware that she was, in fact, usually right.

Natasha leaned down then to pick up the cat, who meowed at her as she scratched behind his ears and mused, "Besides, what's the worst that could happen? Summer has a way with people. Might be completely accidental most of the time, but she does. The world's probably going to love her."

Bucky watched as little Loki sniffed at Natasha's face and then turned his green eyes back on Bucky. He looked up from the cat to Natasha as he replied, "Her life is never gonna be the same."

Natasha merely handed the cat over to Bucky, then said just before she turned and walked away, "You crossed that bridge a _long_ time ago."

She offered him a small pat to his arm before she left, heading back into the tower. Bucky let out a breath and then looked down at the kitty that he was suddenly holding, who was now purring rather happily now that Bucky was paying him a little attention. He rolled his eyes, murmuring his vulgar nickname for the feline as he headed back inside.

* * *

Once Bucky agreed to participate in what he was affectionately calling the "God-forsaken fucking video", Summer began to nearly vibrate with nervous energy as she went into major planning mode. This wasn't just any video or routine PR move - this was the first time the general public was going to truly meet not Bucky Barnes or the Winter Soldier but the result of the two that he was today. And they _had_ to get it right. There was no room for error.

First there was the issue of _where_ to do it. Summer went back and forth on various options until Tony told her to chill out and just use the living room, which would be emptied of people for her and Bucky's sake. Then, growing ever more nervous as the hours slowly passed, Summer grabbed her computer and worked on getting an area set up for her to take the video as she began mentally writing a speech. Being a much better writer than a speaker, she ended up typing out what she wanted to say in the video in an open document while the kids played at her feet and Bucky took a break to go and spar with Steve. She didn't plan on reading word from word from the document like it was a teleprompter, but having it all written down beforehand would help her remember the words once the time came. Or so she hoped.

The day went by in a nervous flash, Summer handing off the kids to Steve and Natasha once Bucky had returned and was showered and ready to take on the task at hand. Night had fallen and dinner was over, and Summer was adjusting the webcam on her computer when Bucky walked into the room, staring at the computer like he hoped that it would spontaneously combust.

Summer glanced up at him, taking in his unhappy glare and then looking back down as she said, "You know, if you want, I could do this alone."

He immediately shook his head and crossed his arms, the metal of his left one unhidden by his dark short sleeved shirt. "No. You're not doing it alone."

Standing up straight now that the computer was situated, Summer looked at him and smiled slightly. "Don't look _too_ enthusiastic now."

He frowned and dropped his arms to his sides as Summer walked to him, reaching out and smoothing her arms over his shoulders. "I know you don't want to do this. But I really think it's the right thing to do. Honestly I'm sick of hiding, and everyone's right. We need to do this."

"You're sure?" he asked her quietly. "You want to do this and... never be anonymous again? Everyone will know you wrote your book. They'll know almost everything about you."

Summer shrugged. "They already know enough. They've got my name and my pictures and now there's a couple of video clips from when I visited you, too. I get calls every day asking for interviews. May as well just go with it. Besides, maybe it'll give my book sales a boost."

She said the last sentence with a faint smile, and he returned it as best he could before giving her a small kiss and murmuring, "All right. Let's get this over with."

"Okay," she nodded, taking a deep breath. "Go ahead and sit over there out of the camera shot at first. You can come in after I introduce myself first and kind of... you know... get the whole initial shock out of the way. My followers are all gonna have one big collective heart attack when they see this."

"You can still change your mind," he reminded her.

"Yeah... not gonna happen," she replied with a smile, gesturing for him to sit. He followed her lead, walking over to one of the other couches and talking a seat as she took one more deep breath. She ran her fingers through her hair and asked, "Do I look okay? I put a _little_ makeup on but not too much because I don't want to look like I'm trying too hard or even thinking about my face considering what the video's gonna be about and -"

"You're fine," he chuckled, interrupting her babbling. "You look good. You always look good."

She gave him a skeptical look and then said, "Yeah, the problem is that you're _supposed_ to say that." Nonetheless, she put the silly last minute thoughts out of her head before she sat down in front of the computer, resolving to get started and get the video over with.

She hesitated only briefly before reaching forward and hitting _record_. She then proceeded to start the video and stop no less than four times, starting over each time she tripped over her words or just said _hello_ in a way that sounded weird to her ears. It was frustrating and she was mentally debating giving up, at least until she glanced at Bucky out of the corner of her eyes. He was sitting there on the other couch, watching her with resignation on his face, but there was something else in his eyes too. He believed in her, and he trusted her enough to do this for them both when he didn't even want it to happen.

Like she had many times before, she drew on his well of faith in her and borrowed a little bit of it to do what needed to be done. She hit the record button again, and her fifth take was the one that stuck.

"Hi everyone," she said with a friendly, sincere smile, imagining that instead of the computer screen, it was the faces of her lovely blog followers that she was looking at. "So this is definitely... different from how I would usually check in with you guys, and first before I say _anything_, I have to apologize for falling off the face of the planet. I've seen every comment I've gotten asking if I'm okay and I really have no excuse for not answering and being AWOL for so long. You all have been so nice and so supportive since I first started blogging and I just... I owe you all so much, and I am really, really sorry for this last month. I've just had a _lot_ going on, which... is kind of the whole reason why I'm doing this."

She took a breath, glancing again at Bucky and moving her hair behind her ears, more out of nervousness than necessity. Then, remembering what she had written earlier, she went on, "So... as I'm sure most of you have gathered, my name isn't _really_ E.B. Carey. It's a pen name that I've used to keep myself anonymous, kind of like how I call my husband Batman and my kids Robin and Batgirl." She paused to smile. "Not that any of them mind having cool codenames, of course, but... privacy's always been a huge thing with us, and... you're all about to find out why, if you haven't already recognized me and put two and two together."

She paused and took a breath, feeling as nervous as she would have if the video had been streaming live. Then she pushed aside the slight flutters in her belly and said, "My real name is Summer. I live in New York and I'm married to James Barnes, who... I'm sure most of you know better as the Winter Soldier." She swallowed, staying focused. "We've been together for... well, going on five years now, actually. We have two beautiful kids, as you all know, and... now you know why I've been MIA for awhile. And the reason why I'm coming out and saying this is... a few reasons, actually. And attention isn't one of them. I just want to put that out there just in case, because... trust me, I like my privacy and doing this video wasn't an easy decision for either of us to make, but... I'm sick of hiding and I'm not ashamed of him or _us_. Mostly - and this is my main reason for doing this - I want to tell everyone who will listen the truth about my husband, and it's not what you're seeing and hearing on the news."

She paused and looked Bucky's way. He was watching her intently, eyes soft, and she quickly kept moving, feeling her anxiety melting away and passion taking its place.

"I've spent the last almost five years getting to know this man better than I know myself, and while I'm sure some would say that I'm pretty much... inherently biased, the truth is that he is _not_ what some people are saying he is. He's the most caring and... gentle and... smart and just... most incredible man I've ever known. He's not a monster. He's not dangerous. I've written a lot about how my son never had a father until I met him, and it's true. He's an amazing father to both my son and daughter and... he's their hero. You guys, my readers, know that better than anyone, because you've been reading about my family and our ups and our downs, and you _know_ how normal we are. You know us, even though you only just now know our real names."

Across from her, Bucky looked down at his hands, and she knew that in light of everything that was happening, her words weren't easy for him to hear. But they were true and the world needed to hear them.

"We've had a really difficult time this last month or so," she continued, "ever since he was arrested. My readers know all about my son and his autism, and he's taken it the hardest of all of us. But for now, we're all back together, thank God, and... I've just been trying to focus on getting everything together and working on getting ready for the trial, whenever it starts. It's a really stressful and... unpredictable time, and that's one of the reasons why I'm coming to you guys now. I love you all so much and you've given me so much support from the start, not just with my book but with this blog and all my little personal things that I've shared, and... now, more than I ever, I need your support. Just in a little bit of a different way."

She then looked at Bucky, and he understood by the way that she almost imperceptibly gestured with her hand that she wanted him to come over. So he did, standing and keeping his eyes on the floor as he walked the short few steps to where she sat, sitting down on her right and entering the camera frame.

Summer gave him a small smile and took his hand - his metal one, which she knew would not go unnoticed by the masses - and she intertwined their fingers as she looked back at the computer, now presenting a united front to the world. "I'm not asking for money, and I never _will_ ask for money from any of you, if I have any say in the matter. All I'm asking is that you take a minute and share this video with people that you know, and that you take a minute to really look at this situation that's become the top story all over the media and just... don't fall for the hype and the fear. Look at the facts and think twice about what you're being told and who's telling it to you. If some of you think I'm crazy or unfollow me or worse, I'll understand, but... I'm really hoping that most of you can give me - give _us_ \- a chance. It's really all that I'm asking for. Just imagine if it was you or someone you loved, the mother or father of your children, and they were going on trial for crimes that they never chose to commit, some they can't even _remember_, and just... _think_ about that. Because that's what's happening here, and the victims of these crimes and their families deserve better. They deserve justice, true justice, and that's not what this is."

The whole time that she had been speaking, Bucky had been watching her with a subtle but heartfelt admiration written on his face. Summer hadn't noticed, and when she turned to him and gave him another small smile, he gave her hand a squeeze and then looked back to the camera just as she did.

"So... yeah, that's all I've got for now," she said, letting out a small sigh. "Thank you guys for watching this and I know this has all probably been a big shock, and I definitely wasn't planning on doing anything like this before this whole situation happened, but... here we are. I look forward to hearing from you guys and... just... thank you again, truly, for your support and... I hope to hear from you all soon."

She offered the currently imaginary audience a small, controlled but sincere smile, and then switched off the webcam. Once it was over and the video was no longer rolling, Summer let out a breath and then leaned back on the couch, the wind suddenly leaving her sails. She closed her eyes and realized that her hands were shaky and her heart was fluttering quickly beneath her chest, and the rush of nervous, surprisingly heavy adrenaline that had come from filming the video was very much unexpected. She looked at Bucky, still holding his hand, and he smiled at her as he said, "Don't ever say you're a writer and not a speaker."

She gave him an unsure look. "Do you think I sounded okay?"

He nodded, fully sincere. "Yes. Better than okay."

She smiled for a moment and then sprang back into business mode, leaning forward and untangling their hands so that she could reach the computer. "Okay, so... let's watch it over again and then I need to send it to Matt and Foggy for approval. I should probably get Steve and Nat's opinion too."

As Summer began tapping away, her focus replacing the leftover nervous energy that had made her feel shaky and unsure a moment before, Bucky watched her quietly. He wasn't quite smiling, but his expression was soft and he couldn't help but reach out and touch her shoulder softly. When she didn't give much of a response, he leaned closer and dropped a kiss on the same shoulder, through her shirt. She stopped typing then, turning her head and looking at him just before he came even closer and gently kissed her lips.

"Thank you," he said quietly after he pulled away, nothing but love in his eyes.

She smiled, melting a little inside from the affection that was so clearly etched on his face. "What for?"

"You know what for," he replied softly.

And she did know. He was thankful for _everything_, all that she did from taking care of the kids to keeping them afloat financially and now shedding her last layer of anonymity for the sake of defending him in the eyes of the whole world. She carried a lot on her shoulders and it really was too much, but they had that in common. They had from the beginning.

She stole one more kiss from him and then sent the video off to their lawyers. Within the hour, they had approved of it along with Steve and Natasha, plus Darcy who had demanded a spot in the screening party.

And then, just before Summer turned in with her little family to call it a night, she posted the video on her blog. She'd find out what kind of reaction would be waiting for her in the morning. To her surprise, she slept better that night than she had in weeks.

* * *

Summer woke up to the sound of her brother's personal ringtone - still Weird Al's _White and Nerdy_, several years later - blaring in her ears. The sound immediately woke up Adelaide too, who had been sleeping in Summer's arms, and as the child whined and began to squirm, Summer groaned and answered the call as quickly as she could with an irritated, "_What_?"

"What did you _do_, kid?" Paul asked in an ominous tone.

"Huh?" she asked, adjusting her hold on Adelaide and quickly getting her to nurse to hopefully get her back to sleep. She glanced at Bucky's side of the bed to find it empty, but that wasn't uncommon to wake up to these days.

"I'm at work right now, about to get off after being on call all night, and I go to grab a cup of coffee from the nurse's lounge so I don't fall asleep and kill myself driving home," Paul said. "And then I look at the TV which is for some god awful reason on Fox News, and guess what I see? A new 'viral video' that my sister apparently posted last night and broke the Internet with."

Summer blinked and then suddenly sat up straight. Adelaide popped off and then glared up at Summer accusingly before settling back down and latching back on. "Broke the what?"

Paul paused and then asked, "Did you seriously post that thing and then _go to sleep_?"

"... Yes?"

Paul sighed. "You should probably check your email."

Summer then pulled the phone away from her face and, after putting Paul on speakerphone, pulled up her email app. When about five _hundred_ emails proceeded to download, her eyes widened and she muttered, "Holy mother of frick!"

"Yeah," Paul agreed. "Although I doubt frick's holy mother had much to do with this."

Most of the emails were from her blog, alerting her to new comments posted, but she also spotted one or two from her agent, who was likely pissed that she went rogue and spurned her pen name without much of a warning. She randomly clicked a few of the comment notifications, just to see if they were negative or positive, and to her relief, they were both overwhelmingly positive.

"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my fricking frick," she muttered, mind racing as she tried to process it all. "That got big fast."

"If you weren't a celebrity before, you definitely are now," Paul replied. "Miss Best-Selling Author."

Summer furrowed her brows, able to only process one thing at a time at the moment. "_What_?"

"Your book," he replied. "It shot to number one literally overnight."

She almost had a heart attack. "_No_. It couldn't have. They don't get the numbers that fast. It would take at least a few days to find that out, and it was night time, so -"

"They _do_ get the numbers that fast, and we're talking e-books and online orders. I'm sure the regular sales will catch up soon enough. You're number one on Amazon right now. And you're trending on Twitter. So is Bucky. Hey, I wonder if Bill O'Reilly will call you a pinhead!"

All she knew was that her head was spinning. Adelaide was done nursing and now wide awake, so Summer scooped her up and then quickly headed out to the living room after telling Paul she'd call him later and then hanging up. There she found a small assembly of Avengers, all watching CNN. Bucky was closest to the TV, standing and listening to every word that the anchor said. Steve and Nat were there too, both looking half asleep but very alert, and Wanda was there too with kitty Loki in her lap and David, who had woken up pretty early for him, snuggled next to her. Tony, however, was the first to see Summer enter and greet her as he smiled brightly and said, "Morning, Superstar."

Summer looked at him a little wide eyed and then went to Bucky's side. He looked at her once she was there, his gaze shifting to little Adelaide in her arms and then back to Summer as she stared at the TV.

Her face was indeed plastered on the screen. Their video played silently in the corner while quotes from it scrolled across the bottom of the screen, and meanwhile two pundits debated this new and unexpected development. It only took a few second's worth of listening to determine that they were debating her and Bucky's motives for the video, but she had expected that. It wasn't the approval of talking heads that she was looking for.

Adelaide found it all quite exciting, however, and pointed to the TV before exclaiming happily, "Mama! Dada!"

Summer put Adelaide down when the child began to squirm, and she ran up to the TV and continued babbling as Summer sighed and started going through her emails again. Adelaide got distracted pretty quickly by the kitty meowing from Wanda's lap, at which point she exclaimed _Oki! _and went toddling over to harass the poor creature.

Summer started to skim through the comments that she'd gotten, more concerned with those than whatever the balding old men in bow ties were talking about on cable news, and she flew through one hundred of them at record speed. She was stunned to learn that of those comments, only a handful were less than positive. But even those weren't half as bad as the ones that she was used to from other Internet sources.

One of the better ones was from a very loyal reader, who had been among the first to follow the blog back when it had been brand new and Summer was still unpublished. "_Oh dear God! When you were quiet for so long I thought the worst, but I couldn't have even dreamed that it was anything like this! I feel so bad for you and your whole family. I for one think that what the government is doing is ridiculous. We all read the reports after what happened with SHIELD, and now they're trying to distract us pinning all these crimes on someone who was tortured and treated worse than an animal for years. It's a disgrace. I'm just still in such shock that the husband you've been writing about this whole time is him! How did you meet? I have so many questions. I just hope you guys hang in there. I'll support you in any way I can."_

Another comment was from a fellow mommy-blogger who also dabbled in doomsday prepping - not a bad idea considering alien invasions were a thing now - and combined family-centered writing with the occasional political rant or conspiracy theory. After the HYDRA leak, conspiracy theorists weren't written off quite so easily anymore. She wrote a short and simple, _Wow. Didn't see this one coming. You both keep your head up and keep fighting. If you need any help rallying people to your cause, let me know. I've been known to organize quite the peaceful protest, and I'd bet my bunker that a hell of a lot of people would show up. _

One more slightly humorous comment from an anonymous follower read, "_Holy shit. Just... holy shit. That's literally all I've got. Just... fuck the government, man. I hope you guys take them down. P.S. I'm gonna go reread your book now and faint. For reasons_."

Then there was another fellow blogger, a younger one who focused mainly on music and culture, and she had one of Summer's favorite comments of them all. "_My grandpa served in WWII, and I just showed him this video. I haven't seen him get so fired up about something in a long time. He said he knew some POWs from the war who were never the same and that us civilians can't imagine what the Nazis and their friends were like and what they could do to someone. He said he'd help you march on D.C. if you want and if you don't mind him marching from a wheelchair. Good luck, guys. _

Then, just as she finished reading those comments, twenty brand new emails downloaded into her inbox. She looked down at the screen and then lifted her eyebrows at the sight of the new messages, mostly private ones being sent to her blog, half of them ending up being interview requests from actual recognizable media sources. She figured that she had maybe a day or two before they managed to trace her to her agent, and eventually to a phone number somewhere in the tower that would start ringing incessantly.

She glanced over at David, who was playing with his sister and the kitty they both loved. Wanda was sending little wisps of energy up from her fingertips and then letting them vanish into thin air, and little Loki and Adelaide were both fascinated by this, their heads moving up and down in sync with one another. David and Wanda both found this hilarious and were giggling, both of Summer's children oblivious to how life was changing before their eyes. They were, thankfully, insulated. They wouldn't be forever, but for the time being, things had stabilized for them again and they were mostly okay again.

Summer, meanwhile, knew that she could not comprehend just how much everything was truly changing, so she didn't really try. Some of the comments on her blog were from readers who very quickly deduced that her novel was a retelling of her real life relationship with Bucky - a simple nobody of a girl meeting and falling in love with a damaged, traumatized ex-solider who was missing a limb and had a dangerous and mysterious air about him. The readers who put this together were _freaking_ out, drawing parallel after parallel between the fictional May and Sebastian and their real-life counterparts, and Summer then understood why the book was in all likelihood becoming a bestseller overnight. It was both intriguing, exciting, and horrifyingly embarrassing, because that book contained no less than four sex scenes and now _everyone_ would know exactly how she'd gotten the inspiration for them.

But she didn't dwell on that. The important thing was that the reaction so far among her followers was overwhelmingly positive, and the video had done its job of shifting the spotlight. The media was eating it up just like she had wanted to, and for the first time, she felt a real hope that just _maybe_ they could exert some real influence and steer public opinion their way. _Maybe_.

She had to savor every last bit of hope that she could grasp on to. She took Bucky's hand in hers, pulling his attention away from the TV, and she handed him her phone so that he could read all the comments himself and see the kind of support that existed among strangers. He ended up sitting down and reading every single comment, some of them twice, and she knew then beyond a shadow of a doubt that they had made the right move. The look of quiet, stunned surprise in his eyes when he saw the support he had among people who he'd never meet was all she needed to see.

They could do this. There was hope. They just had to hang in there and play their cards right, and maybe someday they'd be free again.

**A/N: Sorry for the wait for this chapter! I've been busy as always, and this chapter wasn't the easiest to write for some reason, but thankfully now it's done and I'm thinking next chapter will jump forward a bit so that this trial storyline can really kick into gear :D Thank you guys as always for your loyalty and feedback, plus your patience :D the word count of this story is now over 700k which is RIDICULOUS and reviews are somewhere in the mid-800s, so I just really can't thank you guys enough for sticking with me for so long through such a MONSTER of a story. And I hope you'll keep sticking with me because I have future things planned once this story's over that I am EXTREMELY excited about :) also, just a heads up, I'm about to start working on a oneshot that will likely get posted before the next chapter, so keep an eye out for that if you'd like :D it'll be fun. Lots of fun. Two-parter. And an AU. That's all I can say :p **

**Anyway, my huge, sincere, Thor-sized thanks to midnightwings96 for... well, you all know by now that she's basically my favorite person ever and just so amazing that could wax poetic about it, but I still have to say it as much as I can because she's THAT amazing. And her help is just so HUGE and irreplaceable. I'd be lost without her. LOST, I tell you. **

**Anywho, I'll see you guys soon! *big giant hugs***


	57. Chapter 57

Six months passed by, and Summer's life changed in ways that she never would have been able to anticipate prior to Bucky's arrest months earlier.

Overnight, her novel really did become a bestseller, and it stayed at the top of the charts for longer than anyone could have predicted. Some bought the book out of sheer curiosity, others out of desire to find a flaw or something to use against the now very famous family, and a smaller number seemed to focus mainly on the more provocative scenes and would discuss them online with others who wondered aloud if _Sebastian's_ real-life inspiration was also fond of hair-pulling and rough but emotional sex. Summer tried to stay away from _those_ parts of the Internet, pretty sure that she would have been a little more conservative on the sex scenes during the writing process had she known that the entire world was going to find out how very reality-based they were. But she couldn't spend much time regretting that, as she had much bigger things to worry about.

Her video and pen-name reveal had made her a true instant celebrity in the blink of an eye. Before that, she had been a mysterious, slightly shadowy figure, known only as the pretty but probably crazy wife of the most wanted fugitive in the world and seen only in very brief glimpses during initial legal proceedings. But then once she opened up, everything changed. People who supported Bucky and were on his side began to seek her out online and post messages of support on a daily basis, and the traffic stats on her blog were through the roof. In fact, more than once, the site crashed and had to be revamped by the host in order to get back up and running.

For the most part, people liked her. They found her genuine and charming, and many were fascinated by the very thought of her relationship Bucky. She was inundated with questions of how they had met, how long they'd been together, and how they had come to be in the committed marriage that they were in presently. She couldn't even begin to answer every single comment or question, and she tried to keep those private details to herself for as long as she could.

But not _everyone_ in the general public was so generous or understanding. Harassing messages and trolls became a daily occurrence, either through her email or her blog. Some were more obvious and frivolous in nature, simply sent from people who were bored and annoying but otherwise harmless, but others were more serious. Bucky had nearly flown off the handle when Summer had mentioned receiving her first death threat. Then when she received five messages in the same day from a man who said that she was a disgrace to her country who deserved to be raped and left for dead, Bucky had broken Tony's enormous kitchen table with a single smack of his metal fist. Summer hadn't meant for him to know, but he had seen the look on her face and demanded to know what she'd read on her phone that was so bad. Tony had a new table delivered the next day, but Bucky didn't recover quite so quickly.

Being a public figure, Summer realized, allowed a person to see both the best and the worst of humanity. She was able to be in contact with amazing, supportive strangers who offered to donate their time and money to help her and her family during that difficult time, but she also had to deal with cowardly and potentially dangerous people who hid behind their keyboards and spat the most vile hatred at both her and Bucky and even their _children_ on a daily basis. One thing that she had on her side was her friends, quite a few of whom had already gone through the same thing.

Steve would tell her of his first days as Captain America, a propaganda tool that was loved by general audiences but ridiculed by his military peers. He heard it all back then, and he heard even more upon waking up seventy years in the future in the middle of the Internet revolution. He was loved and hated with equal fervor, and he told Summer to let the hate and the fear roll off her back and stay focused on the objective. It was how soldiers won battles and it was how she'd win this fight, too, or at least that was what he told her.

Then there was Natasha who had an even greater knowledge of what Summer and Bucky were both going through. All of her dark, sometimes gruesome secrets were out in the open and had been for some time. The whole world knew that she had killed innocents and even children in service of the KGB, and she was well aware that much of the world considered her irredeemable and untrustworthy. The key, she said, was not giving the world permission to drag you down and make you doubt yourself and your place within it. Everyone had opinions, but very, very few had ever experienced a childhood and a life even remotely similar to what Natasha had, and the same went for Bucky and Summer. Opinions didn't matter. Only the truth did, and one's truth was something that could only come from within and certainly not from a stranger's half-witted opinion.

Tony had a more colorful way of putting it, telling Summer as the new table was delivered to replace the one Bucky destroyed, "Look, being a celebrity's like being a prostitute. Everyone wants a piece of you and they want you to do what they want you to do. Nobody in the press gives a damn about you or what you want, but that's your life now. It's reality. So you make damn sure you stand up for yourself and keep your head up, and even if they try to pay you extra to do the weird stuff, you don't cross that line because it's not worth it and you'll just end up with a mean case of herpes anyway. And that's if you're _lucky_."

Summer had blinked at him in slight confusion. "... Thanks?"

Tony nodded and popped a handful of pistachios into his mouth. "Anytime. By the way, next time your husband wants to break something, can you try to make sure it's _not_ something that'll cost me a couple grand to replace?"

In the end, Summer had decided that she simply wasn't equipped to handle the press on her own. Acting on advice from both Steve and Pepper, she hired a public relations manager to help keep hers and Bucky's profiles intact and better navigate their newfound celebrity status. She also hired a representative to field interview requests and give statements on her behalf, and every person that she hired had worked for Stark Industries before and was as trustworthy as she could find. It put an extra drain on her wallet, but it was worth it and it made a big difference. She even managed to have the IP address traced of the man who liked to send her daily rape threats, with Matt and Foggy's help, and he was found and arrested. She made sure _that_ story made its way into the news, mainly just for the principle of making the statement that such threats shouldn't be considered "part of the territory" of being famous and that no woman should have to deal with such abuse.

While she learned how to better handle and interact with the press at large, Bucky continued to struggle on a day to day basis to keep his head on straight. Staying inside one building and being confined to certain areas of it were not good for his state of mind, and Summer could tell how he was slowly losing his mind from sheer boredom alone. Being chemically enhanced, he was both blessed and cursed with a high amount of energy that he just couldn't burn like he had been able to before. As much time as he spent in the gym and getting out his aggression by sparring with whoever felt like getting a black eye that day - usually Steve - not being able to go out and work and really burn that energy up left him grumpy on good days and not entirely _there_ on bad ones.

Adding to the oddness of the situation, Summer had resumed her full workload for SI and that left Bucky to watch the kids five days a week while she worked. Tony liked to joke and call him _Mr. Mom_, but David and Adelaide both quite loved having him around all the time. It was one rare pleasant side effect of it all, but as much as Bucky loved his kids and adored getting to spend so much time with them, he was still slowly going stir-crazy on top of the stress he already had.

The others tried to keep him company and help when they could. Clint visited sometimes, and Darcy taught him how to make decent food for the kids and the art of properly flipping a pancake. Sam brought him movies and games to distract him, and Wanda would give him a break from the kids and take them out when they needed the fresh air and Bucky needed some time alone. But then there were days when Summer would be up in her office working and Steve and the others would be off taking care of Avengers business, leaving Bucky alone and feeling like a useless burden. He _hated_ those days, and Summer hated to see him like that. But there was very little that she, or anybody, could do.

At night, they'd get the kids to bed together and then have increasingly rare time alone with each other before Summer, who was always exhausted, would pass out and Bucky would lay there awake next to her until he'd catch his usual four or so hours of sleep. Summer would try to stay awake for as long as she could each night, because they both needed that time with each other to stay sane and maintain their connection in the face of constant worry and uncertainty.

Years prior, back when Summer's house was still standing and she had only known for Bucky for just under a month, he had told her that kissing her helped him forget the horrors of his past. The same was true of the present day, only he was trying to forget his worries of the future as well. She could feel his always-present slight desperation in the way that he held her, sometimes a little too tightly and bruising, which would always result in him apologizing and being disappointed in himself the next day. But she didn't mind, and she never complained or objected to losing sleep in order to give him what he needed. She needed it too, needed him and the intimacy that always came so effortlessly for them. It was the one thing in life that was easy and always there, something that was safe and consistent and reliable when few other things were. And Bucky was _always_ eager to forget, just for a little while, and lose himself with her.

Their lives went on for half a year in this routine, until it came time for the jury selection phase of the trial. It was the last phase before opening arguments would begin, and Bucky was required to be present for the proceedings. It was also apparently a rather important phase, as Matt had told Bucky and Summer that some legal minds believed that cases were won and lost primarily based on jury selection. It was a delicate process, and if just one biased person was seated in the jury, it could drastically alter the course of the trial. It was very important stuff.

It was also causing another spike in media attention. So, just a few days before the first court date, Summer decided to try to turn coverage in their favor and give her first sit-down televised interview. Bucky was predictably hesitant about her doing it, but everyone else agreed with her decision and gave her all the encouragement that she needed.

The interview was a big one, on one of the big three basic channels instead of a cable news network, and one of the channel's best-known female reporters landed the interview with Summer. Word had it that the reporter was hoping to get anchor one day, and Summer knew to tread carefully in such a situation. And she became doubly convinced of that when Tony caught wind of what was happening and choked on his drink at the mention of the reporter's name. Apparently, he had some kind of complicated history with Christine Everheart, one that Pepper eventually and rather unenthusiastically explained.

The morning of the interview, Summer kissed Bucky and the kids goodbye and headed downtown with Sam as her escort. Steve, who normally would have accompanied her, was busy at the Avengers facility and Sam had volunteered to take her instead. He acted as her personal bodyguard, driving her to the studio and seeing her safely inside, and he stayed nearby and on alert the entire time. Summer made sure he knew how very grateful she was for his help, but he, as always, brushed her off and was very convincing when he said that he was happy to do it.

The set for the interview looked a lot like something from a Diane Sawyer special, with two nice, comfortable chairs facing one another in a small but well-furnished room and warm lighting all around. Summer eyed all of the equipment and cameras a bit warily until Christine arrived, which was only about two moments after Summer had.

The journalist was as pretty as she was on TV, her blonde hair and makeup picture perfect as she smiled and extended her hand to Summer upon approach. "Mrs. Barnes," she smiled as they shook hands, "Christine Everheart. Thank you so much for coming today."

"Hi," Summer smiled, trying to quell her sudden last-minute nerves. "Nice to meet you. And thank you for having me."

"Oh, it's my pleasure. I've been following your blog ever since your video awhile back, and I have to say that I admire your bravery, I really do."

Flattery would get the woman nowhere, but Summer still smiled and replied, "Oh, thank you. It hasn't been easy, but... I'm just trying to do my best, you know?"

"Absolutely," Christine nodded. She then glanced at Sam, who was standing behind Summer far enough to be in the background but close enough to keep his eye on everything. She smiled and then said, "And _you_ must be the Falcon."

Summer watched as Sam briefly stepped forward to shake Christine's hand next. "Sam Wilson."

"I'm a big fan," she smiled, all dazzling white teeth and seemingly not at all the vicious, somewhat desperate sort that Tony had suggested she was. Maybe she had turned a new leaf as of late?

"Well, who isn't?" Sam joked, and Summer chuckled while Christine ate it up. If nothing else, at least the meeting was off to a good start.

After, Christine helped Summer get settled in to her seat and went over some notes with her about the interview while a few makeup people came over and made sure Summer's face was ready for TV. It was all fairly straightforward, and Summer's terms were as well. She told Christine that she was open to discussing anything and wanted to be as transparent as possible, but that she wanted the conversation to remain respectful and not veer into anything inappropriate or legally dubious. She was here to talk and answer questions, not incriminate herself, and Christine agreed to this wholeheartedly.

Then, once Summer's face had about two new layers of makeup on and her straightened hair had been combed and sprayed against her will, Christine had her own last minute touch ups applied and Summer took a moment to calm down and deal with her jitters. She was about to give an interview that would air on national television and be seen on millions of people's TV screens, tablets and phones, and that was enough to make anybody nervous. She straightened out the simple, classy dark blue dress she wore, making sure the hem was draped over her knees and then glancing at Sam as he stood on the sidelines. He grinned and gave her the thumbs up, and she smiled and took a deep centering breath.

She was a New York Times bestselling author, wife of a WWII war hero and Avenger, and a pretty damn good mother. She could totally do this, and besides, there was no turning back now.

To her surprise, as soon as Christine asked the first question, the whole hour flew by in an easy, almost stress-free flash.

* * *

"I have to ask the question that's been on a lot of people's minds since the start of all of this," Christine said a few questions into the interview. "How _did_ the two of you meet?"

Summer smiled, her hands folded in her lap and shoulders straight as she replied, "Well, the answer to that is probably pretty boring compared to what people must think, honestly. I lived in Fall's Church, just outside of D.C., and the day that SHIELD collapsed, I was sitting at home with my son and trying to get dinner ready. I was watching the news and peeling potatoes, and then I realized that my son had wandered outside. I threw everything down and went out to get him, and I just about had a heart attack. He was standing there in the middle of the yard poking what looked like a dead body with a stick."

Christine's eyes widened. "Oh my."

Summer nodded. "Yeah. So I told him to get inside and I went and grabbed my gun, since I had no idea what was going on or if the guy was alive or dead. It ended up being _him_. Bucky had been running from HYDRA agents trying to capture him and take him back, and he'd been shot a couple times. He passed out right there in front of my house."

"Did you recognize him from the news? Did you know who he was?"

"I did eventually, but not at first. I had no idea who he was - I just knew he needed help. He was bleeding and confused and just in really bad shape. So I helped him inside and tried to get him cleaned up a little, and gave him some food. But HYDRA, they had never fed him real food - just IV nutrition and protein shake type things that were all chemical and not food - so he couldn't keep anything down. He hadn't eaten real food since World War Two."

"Wow," Christine marveled, nodding. "How long did he stay with you?"

"A month," Summer replied.

"Was he dangerous at that time? Were you afraid of him?"

Summer paused and then replied decisively, "No, I wasn't. I was afraid of the _situation_ at first, but he never gave me a reason to be afraid of him. He never tried to hurt me or my son or threaten us. He was never dangerous to us. He was very... _broken_ back then. He didn't know what his name was or who he was until I showed him an article on the Internet."

"You told him who he was?" Christine asked, and Summer nodded.

"It was a huge shock to him. It was a shock to me too, because I mean... here was this guy, this war hero that I read about in school, and now he was alive and still young and staying with me in my house. I still wonder every day how these things happened to him, how he was allowed to be taken by such _evil_ people and turned into a weapon."

"How did he react to discovering his past?" Christine asked.

"He was devastated," Summer replied, thinking back to that time when she had barely known him. Her mind briefly flashed to when she had found him on her couch with her gun in his hand and his eyes on the barrel of it, but she wouldn't dare speak of such a deeply personal moment that wasn't hers to tell. "He hated himself and he hated what they did to him. He still has a lot of trouble accepting his past and forgiving himself, even though he knows that none of it was his own choice."

"Do _you_ have a hard time accepting it? Do you ever kind of think _wow_, I'm married to this person with all of this history who's lived through all of this violence, some of which he committed himself?"

"Well, like I said, none of that was his choice," Summer said, making sure _that_ point didn't go unheeded. "_But_, yeah... I mean, every soldier, every prisoner of war who survives comes home and deals with the aftermath, deals with the PTSD and tries to live with what they did. It's no different for him, only its on a level that's just... hard to comprehend. He's come a really long way from back then and he's had a lot of therapy and time to come to terms with his past but like I said, it's still hard. I think in a lot of ways it always will be."

"You know something about hard times yourself," Christine observed. "You lost your parents at a very young age."

Summer nodded. "Yeah."

"And your son, you had him just out of high school."

Summer nodded again. "That's right."

"Do you consider yourself to have lived a difficult life?"

Summer took a breath and considered that for a moment. "I don't think life is easy for anyone, honestly. My life could have been harder. I was blessed to have an amazing grandmother who took care of me after my parents died. She was a very tough, strong-willed lady who went through more in her life than I could ever imagine."

"She was a Holocaust survivor," Christine noted.

Summer nodded. "Yes, she was. She was actually pregnant with my mother when she was taken. She grew up in Poland, just before the war."

"That is remarkable," Christine said, glancing at notes that were resting in her lap. "I did a little bit of research, and according to a few records, the camp that your grandmother was sent to was actually liberated by the Howling Commandos in 1944."

Summer smiled, the most genuine smile that she'd given yet. "I didn't know that myself until a few years ago, actually. My brother found her old diaries and he found out that way. I couldn't believe it. She actually wrote about the man who helped her out of her bunk - she was too weak to walk by then - and she said it was a handsome American man in a blue coat."

Christine looked genuinely surprised by this, and maybe just the slightest bit miffed that the most noteworthy thing of the whole story hadn't come from her own research. "Bucky Barnes personally rescued your grandmother?"

Summer nodded again, still smiling. "That's right."

"So... essentially, if not for him, you wouldn't exist today."

Summer nodded, though she was careful to add, "Well, without a _lot_ of soldiers and their sacrifices, I wouldn't be here. And neither would a lot of us. At the very least, we wouldn't be here speaking English right now."

Christine smiled a bit at her answer, and Summer was starting to understand why nobody she knew had anything good to say about her. She seemed to be looking for the _aha_ moment, a soundbite that would define the whole interview and make it as famous as Christine wanted it to be.

"I have to admit," Christine said, "I'm fascinated by your family and your whole story. Your grandmother lost her husband in the war and emigrated to the States just before she gave birth to your mother. She then worked hard her whole life and raised your mother on her own, and she never remarried."

"Nobody could replace her husband," Summer smiled. "And she broke some hearts in her day, too. She was very beautiful, her whole life."

"And she raised you," Christine noted.

"And my brother," Summer nodded. "She was our rock for so long. It's still so strange that she isn't here. I don't think I'll ever get used to it."

"What do you think she would say about... all of _this_, if she was here now?"

Summer drew a deep breath and then chuckled before replying, "Well, I would pretty much bet my life that if she was here right now, she'd get up and go and put on her best dress and her best hat and go march right up to the White House and demand they leave us alone or else face her wrath. That was the thing about her, you know... nobody could scare her or intimidate her. She had already seen true evil and lived through watching everybody around her die. She had a strength to her that... you just don't see it in ordinary people."

Christine's next slight change of subject was no surprise. "Tell me about your children. How are they handling all of this?"

Summer paused, taking a breath and reminding herself to tread lightly, especially when it came to the subject of her kids. "They're hanging in there. My daughter's so little, she of course doesn't understand any of it. My son though, he understands, and it's a lot harder for him."

"And from what I've gathered from your blog, your son is autistic?"

Summer nodded. "Yes, he is."

"You have quite a hectic life, juggling a new baby and a special needs son in the middle of having to work _and_ deal with the trial of the century."

Summer smiled, wondering if Christine was trying to draw self pity out of her and make her appear rather annoying or whiny to the audience. "Well, I try to just... take life as it comes. It's not easy, but it is what it is. Innocent people are put on trial all the time. In my case, it just happens to be all over the news."

Christine wasn't getting the sort of answers that she wanted. After a brief pause and glances at her notes, Christine looked at Summer again and began, "I've been reading some of the comments posted on your blog, and while most of them are fairly positive, you do have your share of critics."

Summer nodded. "Of course."

"I'll read one... this was posted by an anonymous reader. 'I have to say that in my opinion, you don't deserve any of the support that you're getting. I don't know if these people are just stupid or don't know any better, but the way I see it, you're an attention-starved irresponsible parent who obviously doesn't care about the safety of her kids. You say you put your kids first, but obviously you care more about yourself and what you want than you care about your poor autistic son and his safety. Who in their right mind would let a man like _that_ near their kids? Especially a disabled kid? I'm surprised they haven't taken your kids away yet.'"

Christine then looked at Summer expectantly, and Summer reminded herself to stay calm and not bite the woman's head off. She needed to stay cool and composed, but she also wasn't going to mince her words. "I don't think I really have much to say to that, honestly. I'm not looking for people's approval of my choices or my actions, or how I parent my kids. Especially strangers on the Internet who hide behind being anonymous and say things they'd probably never say to someone face to face."

"But can you say with complete confidence and honesty that you haven't put your children in danger by choosing to have a relationship with James Barnes?" Christine asked.

"I can say with complete confidence and honesty that my son is happier than he's ever been before in his life now that he has a father. And I can say Bucky's kept us safe and been a better father to him and our daughter than I can express in a forty five minute interview."

"I'm not questioning either of your parenting skills," Christine replied. "But the truth is, judging from what I've managed to confirm about the last few years of your life, you and your son have both faced quite a bit of danger. You lost your Virginia home in a fire that looks a lot more like a missile strike than a case of arson or an accident. Then you were present during the attack on Stark Tower only a few months later. Was your son with you during both of those events?"

Summer's anger was starting to rise, and on the sidelines, Sam was preparing to step and end the interview if Christine's line of questioning continued down that path. "Yes, he was."

"Then your relationship - as fulfilling and romantic as I'm sure it is - has put you _and_ your children in danger. Do you deny this?"

Summer made sure that she took a deep, centering breath before giving her response. "You know, Miss Everheart, all I can tell you is that I've learned a lot over the last five, almost six years. I'm not perfect, no, and I've taken a lot of risks and done plenty of things that I'm sure a lot of people would agree with. Half of the people who are gonna watch this probably think I'm crazy or just in it for attention or money, or... who knows. And they can think what they want. I know my truth. And ultimately I answer to myself and my kids, and my husband. They're my priority and they always have been. I'm not here to defend myself or make myself look good. I'm here right now because I want people to understand that my husband is innocent and that what's happening to him is unfair and unjust. That's been the whole point of everything I've done, from the video on my blog to this interview now."

"And a lot of people would agree with you that he's innocent," Christine replied. "But others would say that he killed a very beloved President and many other innocent people, and that he needs to answer for that."

"And if he had been in his right mind and had known his own name and been aware of what he was doing, then I would agree," Summer replied. "But he wasn't."

"Do you think that you would feel that way if you weren't already biased in his favor?"

Summer paused and looked at the other woman blankly for a moment. She was, in a word, just terrible. Maybe she should have picked another network to give her first big interview to. "Yes, I do think that, because pinning the crimes on him personally is nothing more than the worst kind of victim-blaming."

"I'll ask one more question on this topic and then we can move on if you'd like," Christine replied. "How do you plan on explaining all of this to your children? They'll find out one way or the other, whether from their history textbooks or from other kids, or the TV. How do you plan on telling them that their father, who they love and look up to, was once a sworn enemy of the United States and a cold-blooded murderer who killed JFK?"

Sam _almost_ stepped forward and told Christine that the interview was over at that point. But when Summer shot him a fleeting look from her peripheral vision, he reluctantly stayed where he was and Summer answered the question while trying to keep her anger and irritation out of her voice.

"I plan on telling them the truth," Summer replied. "And my son is very smart, by the way, and he already knows some of this. What I've told him is that Bucky was once a normal, young, brave man who served his country and fought in the worst war we've ever had. He was a hero and helped save a lot of lives all over the world. Then some very bad people got hold of him and tortured him until he forgot who he was, and he did a lot of very bad things because he didn't know any better and he wasn't able to tell them no. But then one day he started to remember, and then he started to get better. And now he's a hero again, and he's trying to make up for all the bad things he did and protect people, just like he did before."

"Do _you_ believe that?" Christine asked. "Do you consider the issue to be truly that simple, even from an objective standpoint?"

Summer smiled and looked at Christine as if she had just asked the world's dumbest question. "_Yes_. I believe that more than I believe anything."

Christine called for a break just after Summer gave that last answer. The cameras stopped rolling and Christine accepted a bottle of water from an assistant, and Summer looked over at Sam to find him standing there looking just as annoyed with Christine as she was, but he also gave Summer a nod of approval and small smile that instantly made her feel better.

"Let's take ten and then we can get back to it, okay?" Christine smiled, her fake-nice persona back in full effect now that the interview was paused. Two people came over to shove a makeup brush in Summer's face again and screw with her hair some more, and she decided at that point that she'd had quite enough of Christine Everheart for one day.

"You know what," Summer said, taking the little mic off of the collar of her dress, "I think we can end things there. Honestly, I have nothing more to say to you."

Summer stood up, and Christine followed with a look of alarm and surprise on her face. "But we're not finished yet."

"No, I think we are," Summer replied, shoving the microphone into the hands of the overly enthusiastic makeup artist. "I know what you're trying to do, and I expected it, I did, but I'm not gonna sit here and answer questions that you literally designed to try to trip me up and make me look like an idiot."

Christine was aghast. "I apologize if that's your impression, but -"

"And you don't drag people's kids into it, either," Summer interrupted. "I told you beforehand to leave them out of your questions, and you didn't."

Christine, normally unflappable, seemed a bit... well, flapped. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Barnes, but -"

"You can't convince me to stay," Summer told her flatly, Sam now flanking her as they both began to turn towards the exit. "And don't bother trying to edit the interview to make yourself look good and make me look stupid, because Sam here was recording the whole time and we'll post our own video if yours is inaccurate."

Sam smiled and pointed to an inconspicuous pin on his jacket. "Gotta love Stark tech. It's even high def, too."

Christine glared at them both, her expression particularly souring at the mention of Tony's general existence. But she quickly plastered a smile on her face and said in her most fake, transparently dismissive tone, "Fantastic. Have a wonderful rest of the day, then. And tell Tony I said hi."

"It'll be my top priority," Summer replied with her own fake smile before turning with Sam and heading for the door. Not normally all that well-suited to confrontation, she felt anxious and a little bit jittery following the exchange, but the minute they were out of the studio and heading down an elevator towards their car, Summer felt a huge sense of relief overcome her. She hadn't even realized how stressed and nervous she was about the interview until that moment.

"So," she asked Sam, biting her lip and fidgeting slightly, "how'd I do?"

"You know what," he told her in all sincerity, "I think that you did pretty damn well. That woman's a shark. You were smart to end it when you did."

"Did I look nervous? Did I answer the questions okay or did I sound stupid?"

He put a hand on her shoulder and assured her, "You did fine. If anyone's gonna come out of that interview looking like a fool, it's gonna be her."

"Are you just saying that?" Summer asked, squinting slightly and trying to determine how much he truly meant those words.

Sam merely gave her a look and said, "I'm gonna go ahead and pretend that you didn't just ask me that."

She laughed and nodded, accepting then that he meant what he said. "Okay, okay. Sorry."

He gave her shoulder a slight squeeze before letting go as the elevator came to a stop. "Let's get you back home. Think you deserve a nice, strong drink after that."

"But it's barely noon," she pointed out with a smile as they exited the elevator and headed out of the building.

"So what? Look, even I need a drink now, and I did was watch," Sam replied, making Summer laugh more. They made it to the car without incident, and the whole way home, Summer worried about the interview and its implications. The bright side of the ordeal was that she didn't have to wait long to find out, as it would be airing later that night in prime time.

Then again, maybe she just might need a stiff drink or two after all.

* * *

Later that day, before the interview special was set to air, Bucky got away from everyone to take some much-needed time for himself. He went to one of the few designated areas of the tower that wouldn't set off the ankle monitor that weighed above his foot like an anchor constantly reminding him that he was still a prisoner, the gym that was just a few floors down, and he went there alone after shrugging off several people who offered to accompany him.

He didn't know what was worse, being alone or being surrounded by people who were constantly watching him for signs of mental distress and always offering to help him even when he didn't need it. He knew they all meant well and only wanted the best for him, but he would have been lying if he said that being treated like a ticking time bomb didn't get old fast. Steve _tried_ not to smother him, and for the most part he didn't. The same went for Summer, but he still sometimes reached his limits of what he could handle even from them. And when that happened, he'd make sure the kids were being looked after and then would slip away to take out his deep-rooted anger and frustrations on a reinforced punching bag that had been designed specifically for Steve after he'd destroyed one too many for Tony's liking.

It was a simple and easy exercise. and even his therapist approved of it. He wasn't officially back doing sessions with Dr. Connor, but the old man had dropped by the tower a few times to check on him and try to convince him to talk to him twice a week again. Bucky had thus far refused, the thought of sitting down and talking about all the grim and complicated thoughts in his head more than he could bear at the present time, but he didn't mind the brief visits. Connor assured him that wanting time alone was perfectly fine and healthy, and so was beating the crap out of an inanimate object in order to redirect his growing anger at something other than himself, his usual target.

And so he went, feeling an instant sense of relief at the solitude and finding slight solace in the routine of it all - wrap up his right hand, leave the other as it was, and simply stop thinking and _act_. He missed being able to do the same thing on missions or at night on the streets, letting instinct take over and doing what he did best and getting to help people at the same time. He missed it a _lot. _Without having that outlet anymore, he simply didn't know what to do with himself most of the time.

As he took out his aggression on the innocent and unsuspecting punching bag, he tried not to think about how much he was dreading watching Summer's interview on TV in just an hour or two. She had told him all about how it went and what to expect, and he wasn't looking forward to watching some bloodthirsty journalist try to poke at his wife and trick her into inadvertently sabotaging her efforts of defending Bucky. He hated that she had to do these things when he _knew_ how nervous they made her and how overwhelmed she was by it all. She wouldn't admit it, but he could see it in her eyes and the way that she slept at night like a rock and struggled to wake up in the mornings. She was exhausted and stressed and doing too much, while he on the other hand was doing nothing.

Or at least that was what he told himself as his punches grew harder and more brutal. The worst part of it all was knowing that he couldn't do a thing about any of it. He was at the mercy of the federal government and the jury that would be selected and seated in the coming days, and so was Summer and their kids. And if there was one thing he hated above all else, it was being under the _control_ of men in positions of power.

An hour passed by before he heard the sound of quiet footsteps, telling him that he was no longer alone. He knew by now how to tell who was there just by the sound of their feet hitting the floor. Steve sounded the same as he had when they were kids, only a lot heavier. Summer's footsteps were hurried and quick these days, as she was always flitting from one place to another. Tony took long, lazy strides, like he owned the place - which, to be fair, he _did_ \- and Sam had an audible swagger that set him apart from the others. Wanda's feet were deceptively light, and that was because Bucky himself had trained her to carry herself that way. The footsteps currently sounding in his ear, however, sounded more like those of Natasha in how nearly silent and efficient they were. Usually, Bucky was the only one able to hear her coming. She made a game out of sneaking up on Steve and making him jump, but she'd never managed to get the same reaction out of Bucky.

He expected her low, slightly raspy voice to come next, teasing him about what that poor punching bag had ever done to him to deserve such abuse, and that was why he was particularly surprised to glance to his left and find his _lawyer_ standing there instead.

Considering Matt got around with the aid of a walking stick, that made his silent steps even more baffling than they would have been anyway.

"Sorry to interrupt," Matt said as a form of greeting while Bucky paused in his movements. "Interview's about to air."

"Oh. Thanks," Bucky muttered, dropping his arms and glancing at the punching bag before taking a deep breath. He checked a clock on the wall and realized he'd been there for an hour and a half, which was particularly funny since he'd yet to even break a real sweat. He blamed the abundance of chemically-enhanced energy that used to be a blessing but lately was a nothing more than a curse.

"How are you holding up?" Matt asked as Bucky went about unwrapping his hand.

"Same, I guess," Bucky shrugged in response. He never knew how to answer that question. He was useless and powerless and his family was constantly in the media's crosshairs - how was he supposed to be holding up?

"Well, everything's about to start moving a lot faster," Matt said. "Once the jury's seated and opening arguments are done, you'll be surprised at how quick it'll go."

"That a good thing or a bad thing?" Bucky asked, grabbing a bottle of water sitting nearby and taking a long drink from it.

"Probably a good thing," Matt replied. "You know, things aren't looking as bad as you might think. You're gaining a lot of support. And we found that guy who was threatening Summer."

Bucky scowled as he somewhat overly aggressively replaced the cap on the water bottle, fuming inside at just the mention of that... _thing_, not a man, who had sent those vile messages to Summer several times a day over the course of an entire month. It was a particularly sensitive subject for him, not just because of the extra mental distress that Summer had experienced but also because Bucky hadn't been able to track the man down himself and _break his neck_.

"I have a contact in the NYPD," Matt added casually, "and when I called to follow up on the arrest, he told me that they found the guy in bad shape."

Bucky furrowed his brow. "Bad shape?"

"Apparently," Matt replied, "that vigilante in Hell's Kitchen had a hand in apprehending him. Broke a couple ribs and shattered his nose. He'll be put on trial once he recovers."

Bucky was dumbfounded for a moment. He wasn't sure what to say or how a vigilante he'd never met had been able to have a hand in finding the guy.

... Or _had_ he met him? He thought back to his birthday, when he and a masked man had crossed paths in Hell's Kitchen after having inadvertently targeting the same rapist. He'd learned later that the vigilante was something of a big deal and even had a name.

"That... Devil of Hell's Kitchen guy?"

There was an almost indecipherable quirk to Matt's lips as he replied, "They call him Daredevil now, actually."

Bucky was on the verge of asking how the hell this _Daredevil_ had gotten involved and _why_ when Foggy showed up in the doorway next, bearing his usual friendly smile and saying, "I was literally sent down here by Captain America to tell you guys to hurry up before you miss the interview. I shouldn't still be this starstruck but God help me, I am. I'm hopeless."

Matt chuckled. "Just as long as you don't tell him about the shield you got tattooed on your ass in college."

Foggy's brows shot up his head before he looked at Bucky and insisted, "I did not - that did _not_ happen. I do _not_ have a tattoo of the shield on my - I can prove it!"

Bucky held up his hand as he followed Matt to the elevator. "Please don't. I believe you."

"Yeah, Foggy, please keep your pants on in front of our client," Matt joked as the three of them stepped inside the elevator. "Try to maintain some decorum."

Foggy glared humorously at Matt as they began ascending the building, but their good-natured bickering fell on deaf ears as Bucky continued to think on what he'd just been told. He couldn't have been happier that the scumbag who'd been harassing Summer had suffered a decent beating before being taken into custody, but there was more to the story and he knew it. He looked at Matt, this calm and articulate, seemingly simple and pure-hearted lawyer whose footsteps were as light and silent as Natasha's and who had once ducked a stray ball from Adelaide's ball pit with stunning accuracy for a blind man, or really _any_ man, and a thought then occurred to Bucky that was almost too ludicrous to entertain.

But before he could consider it further and either reject or confirm the idea, he was back on the floor that he lived on and was heading towards the big communal living area where Summer and the kids were already seated. Steve was there too, along with Natasha, Darcy, and Wanda, and Paul had also decided to pay a visit. He was sitting next to Summer and making Addie giggle with funny faces that he was making, but as soon as the little girl saw Bucky walking their way, her face lit up and she exclaimed "_Dada_!"

Bucky smiled scooped the toddler up into his arms, giving her a kiss before sitting down next to Summer and sharing a silent but affectionate look with her. She smiled at both him and their daughter, putting her hand on his knee before asking a bit anxiously, "Ready to watch my big interview?"

Bucky blew out a breath and then glanced at the huge TV before them, the credits of the show preceding the nightly news rolling. He then turned back to Summer and lied, "Yeah."

She smiled and then cringed before covering her eyes. "Oh God, I can't watch."

Paul reached over and tugged her hands down. "Oh come on, none of that. You're a celebrity now, Miss Bestseller-Slash-Real Housewife of Avengers Tower. Accept your fate."

Summer pouted but relented, keeping her eyes on the TV as the network news graphics swirled on the screen. After Adelaide squirmed to get down and go play, Bucky let her go and then took Summer's hand and entwined their fingers together in a quiet show of support. She looked at him and smiled in a way that was almost a frown, and he pressed a kiss to her forehead just as the show began.

Adelaide played on the floor obliviously, sadly used to seeing both of her parents on TV now, and David ended up scooting into Bucky's other side and watching the entire interview with them. The interview itself ended up being just as Summer had described it, and that was a good thing as it meant that the network hadn't overly edited it. For the most part, Summer's answers were left intact and the main alteration was that the order of the questions was changed so that the end of the interview appeared less abrupt. Otherwise, Summer was satisfied with how it had turned out.

Bucky, meanwhile, felt a mixture of pride, love, and utter despair the entire time that he watched his now-famous wife answer Christine Everheart's questions. He knew how difficult the interview had been and how nervous about it she'd been ever since she had agreed to do it, so seeing her poised and speaking with a surprising amount of grace when she was somewhat known for stumbling over her words and embarrassing herself... it made him feel incredibly proud of her. And the passion that she had when she spoke of him and her unshakable belief in his innocence made a part of him fall in love with her all over again. But all of those positive, sweet feelings were nearly overshadowed by his anger that she was in the position to have to do these things at all and open herself up to scrutiny and criticism from the _entire world_. He didn't think he'd ever forgive himself for what she'd already endured thanks to his past.

Reaction to the interview was, thanks to the Internet, immediate. Summer's name started trending on Twitter before the interview had even finished airing, and countless users expressed their disbelief that Bucky and the rest of the Howling Commandos had actually rescued Summer's grandmother from a concentration camp in the 40s and thus were directly responsible for Summer's existence. Some noted that their entire story was like a real-life and rather dark fairy tale, and others laughed that their "ship name" - a term which Summer had to explain to Bucky, who didn't understand what any of it had to do with boats - would be either _Sucky_ or _Bummer_. Then one user suggested _Summer Soldier_ instead, and that got enough retweets that it counted as an official christening, even though Bucky was still confused as to why they needed this "ship name"... thing in the first place.

The critics got their opinions in, too. Some said that Christine went too easy on Summer, and others claimed that using Summer's grandmother's history was just a ploy to raise sympathy and was a cheap tactic that dishonored the memory of her and other Holocaust victims. Summer had expected that particular criticism, so she wasn't the least bit surprised. She also wasn't surprised when some folks on Twitter - mainly men but also a few women - expressed dismay at Summer getting so much attention and wondered aloud if the press would have been as fond of her if she was overweight or generally considered unattractive.

Bucky tried to tune out the comments as best as he could, though that wasn't easy with Natasha and Paul both digging through Twitter on their phones for the next hour or so. Instead, he focused on his own relief that the interview was over and gave Summer a warm smile when Foggy and Matt both told her that she did great, a sentiment echoed by the whole room. She sighed with relief and laid her head on Bucky's shoulder, and he kissed the top of her head as he mentally flogged himself for being at the root of her troubles. It was a habit he doubted he'd ever break.

Especially if all of this was ultimately for nothing and he would be sentenced to death in only a matter of months anyway.

* * *

At day's end, Summer found herself even more exhausted than usual. She spent the night reading through Twitter and Facebook, and she also posted a new entry on her blog thanking her followers for their continued support after they had all but flooded her page with kind words. By the time that she was finished and had showered and washed away all the makeup and leftover hairspray from the interview and was ready for bed, she wandered back into her bedroom to find Adelaide sleeping contentedly on Bucky's chest as he sat with his back to the headboard and his phone in his hand.

As sweet of a sight as it was, Summer felt a twinge of sadness. She'd been so busy lately that she felt a bit like an absentee mom, and to make matters even worse, Adelaide had weaned herself completely from nursing just about a month prior. She didn't know if it was the hormones or just how bonding and sweet of an act nursing was, but she missed it terribly. She missed David too, and the days where he'd been glued to her side until bedtime, making her laugh all the time without having to say a word.

Bucky looked up from his phone as Summer lingered in the bathroom doorway, a knee-length robe covering her up as she stood there with a bittersweet look on her face. He locked his phone and set it down, giving her a small smile as he asked, "Feel better?"

She nodded, taking a breath and snapping out of it. "Yeah... though I think I scrubbed off a couple layers of skin getting all that makeup off."

She made her way towards the closet then, and Bucky carefully began to get up from the bed in order to move Adelaide to her crib. She squirmed once as he got to his feet, but then she resettled and didn't budge again. He left a kiss on her forehead after he had laid her down and put a thin, pink blanket over her, and when Bucky turned around, Summer had just dropped her robe to change into a lavender satin nightgown she'd pulled from a hanger.

She wasn't trying to be seductive or eye-catching at all - she was merely tired and trying to get into bed as quickly as possible. But for whatever reason, Bucky found it suddenly hard to breathe as he watched her gather up the nightgown in her hands before lifting it up to slip on over her head, naked aside from a little pair of pale pink underwear. He watched the slight arch of her back and the roll of her shoulders as she put the little nightgown on, and even though it hadn't been particularly long since the last time they'd slept together, he couldn't help the instant ache and slight despair he felt at her newly clothed state.

She turned around and jumped in surprise to find him not too far away, staring at her in a way that she was _very_ familiar with. She smiled and then chuckled, "Oh my gosh, you scared me."

"Sorry," he replied quietly, walking closer to her. "Figured you wanted me to watch."

She smiled and closed her eyes as he closed the distance between them, putting a hand on her waist and nuzzling her cheek, getting a deep whiff of her newly washed hair. Almost immediately slumping against him in a hug, she groaned and muttered, "I'm so tired."

"I know," he said, kissing her on the corner of her lips before drawing away and leading her towards the bed. "Come on."

Muscles relaxing just at the sight of the bed, she let him walk her there and then slipped under the covers as he went to turn off the lights. Once they were off, he took off his shirt and tossed it at a laundry basket near the closet before climbing into bed next to Summer, both of them immediately reaching for each other. It was a well-rehearsed routine by then, and one that they both looked forward to greatly each night.

She laid her head on his right shoulder, closing her eyes and letting out a deep sigh as his metal hand slid cooly over her side and down towards her hip. She could have fallen asleep right then, but she loved their nights together as much as he did, so she willed herself to stay awake.

"You work tomorrow?" he asked, his voice a deep rumble in her ear.

She felt his lips graze her forehead as she replied, "Yep. Early, too."

He groaned with displeasure, drawing up the hem of her nightgown slightly as his cool fingers wandered up and down. "Damn it."

"I know. I just... want a day where I don't have to go anywhere... talk to anyone... work on anything... just... sleep until noon and do nothing all day."

"Sounds like what I do. Except for the sleeping thing," he replied, and Summer's eyes opened as she frowned.

She looked up at him, his eyes dark but as beautiful as ever in the dim light of the room, and she said, "You don't do nothing. You do a lot."

He shrugged and looked away, aimlessly towards the foot of the bed. "No I don't."

"But... you take care of the kids and... you even make them dinner sometimes. You clean up after them and keep them happy. I wouldn't be able to work and do what I do if I didn't have you."

His metal fingers withdrew slowly, dragging up her arm and eventually reaching her hand that was resting on the bare skin of his chest. They played absently and gently with her fingers as he shook his head slightly and muttered, "I don't _want_ you to do what you do. I don't want you to have to work constantly and talk to the press and use your book money to pay for a fucking PR person to make me look better. Or give interviews where they're just trying to trip you up and make you look bad so they get ratings."

She looked at him in surprise, her drowsiness leaving her as she reached up and put her hand on his cheek, trying to draw him so that he'd look at her. "But I don't mind any of that."

"I do," he told her, making somewhat pained eye contact with her. "I'm supposed to..." He trailed off and shook his head, jaw clenching as he looked away again.

But she wasn't going to let him off the hook that easily. "Supposed to what?"

A few long, silent moments passed before he finally replied, "I'm supposed to take care of you. And I'm not. I'm just... sitting here, dragging your name through the mud with me and being a fucking burden on everyone. Especially you."

She blinked in surprise. This was the first thing he'd ever said to her like that, and she hadn't seen it coming. "But... I mean, I've always worked. It never bothered you before."

"Because I worked too," he told her, looking her in the eyes again. "We've always been equals. And now we're not. I'm not... contributing to anything, I'm not... I'm not _doing_ anything."

Summer sighed, knowing that he wasn't aware of what he was implying and also knowing that he didn't mean that particular implication. He wasn't saying that staying home and taking care of kids was nothing and worthless and not a real contribution. He _was_ saying that for him, a man who had been raised ingrained with the belief that a husband's job was to take care of his family and provide for them, having to accept being sidelined and let Summer not only be the sole breadwinner but also fight his battles for him in the press was incredibly difficult.

She understood that. He wasn't resentful or insecure in the typical way that a man might be in such a situation. He was just extremely frustrated and he particularly loathed being a burden on anyone, especially Summer.

"Bucky," she said softly, shifting and propping herself up on her elbow so that she could be at his eye level. "I know how hard this is for you, and I know you're going crazy being stuck here in this tower 24/7. But you _have_ to believe me - you're _not_ a burden. We're _one_ now, you know? I don't even think twice about doing all of this. I'm _supposed_ to pick up the slack, just like you did when I had my accident and couldn't walk for months."

"That was different," he insisted. "That... it just _happened_ to you. You didn't bring it on yourself."

"And you didn't bring any of this on yourself either," she replied sharply, not very tolerant of moments where he would try to blame himself for what he held no responsibility for. "But even if I had - say I had just jumped out in front of that car and let it hit me on purpose - would you not have taken care of me after?"

He furrowed his brows and immediately replied, "Of course I would have."

"Because you love me," she replied with a slight smile. "And that's why you're no burden to me. I love you."

He let out a long, soft breath, looking her in the eyes and bringing up his right hand to absently run through her hair, along her back. "It's just... this isn't easy for me. I need to stay busy, otherwise I just..."

"Think too much," she finished for him. "I know. I hate that you're stuck here. I hate that you can't work or even... go out and do your vigilante hobby a couple nights a week."

The longing in his eyes at her words made her heart ache. She couldn't imagine being in his shoes, feeling like he owed the world an enormous debt and wanting nothing more than to be able to go out and help people the only way he knew how, but being confined to the tower like a prisoner instead.

"But hey," she said gently, her hand back on his cheek as she nudged him to look at her again. "One day, this is all gonna be over. They're gonna declare you innocent and then you'll be free. We'll all be free again. And we can go out whenever we want... do whatever we want... get our own home again..."

His eyes were pained, like the thought of entertaining that kind of hope was just too difficult to bear. But she kept going, hushing him when he tried to stop her. "Maybe when it's over, we could take a vacation. A long one. Somewhere far away and warm and sunny. Maybe an island somewhere in the Caribbean, something like that. You can work on getting your color back," she smiled, her fingers gently tracing skin that was far too pale from being confined to buildings for too long. "I'd even let you pick out all my bikinis."

_That_ got a smile out of him. It was small and his eyes were still a little sad, but it was a smile nonetheless. "Yeah?"

She nodded, glancing down at his lips as she grinned. "Yep. We can bring the kids with us, too. You and David can teach Addie how to swim. They'd be so cute playing on the beach together."

Bucky nodded, some of the darkness leaving his eyes as he replied, "We'd probably have to invite Steve and Nat along, too."

"We would?"

He nodded. "_Somebody_ would need to watch the kids for us every once in awhile."

She grinned. "Every once in awhile?"

He shrugged innocently, both of his hands suddenly on her hips as he casually replied, "I always wondered what all the fuss was about with sex on the beach."

She wrinkled her nose and smiled, "See, it doesn't sound that great to me. You'd just get sand everywhere. And I mean _everywhere_."

"That's okay," he replied. "Just means I'd get to fuck you on the beach and _then_ in the shower right after."

She giggled, unable to control the sound and not wanting to. Her little laugh made him grin, and she'd keep talking about this little fantasy beach vacation of theirs for as long as it took to chase away the dark in his eyes and his mind. "Hmm... yeah, I guess we _would_ need a babysitter, then."

"Definitely."

"Or..." she trailed her fingers down his chest, "we could go for two weeks. First week could be just us. You, me, and a _very_ private beach house. So private that I wouldn't have to wear _anything_ to go out and work on my tan." The way that he grinned and briefly bit his lip told her that he was rather fond of that idea. "Then, the second week, Steve and Nat can come and bring the kids. It would be like a second honeymoon and our first big family vacation all in one."

"I like that," he replied, clearly _very_ much liking it. "Second honeymoon, huh?"

Her grin matched his. "I mean, why not?"

"Do we get to have the blindfolds and restraints again?" Bucky asked, and the memory of the nights that he was referring to almost made her shiver a little bit.

"Oh for sure," she assured him as his metal hand gently shifted her leg to be between his.

"Maybe we could try something new, too?"

Teasingly grinding her thigh against him, she tilted her head slightly and asked, "Something new? What did you have in mind?"

"I don't know..." he said, pretending to contemplate the question as he pulled down one of the thin straps of her nightgown. "We could try anything."

His eyes were on her breasts, barely concealed by the low cut silk clinging to her body. She reached and took his chin in her hand, making him look up and make eye contact as she pointed out, "There's not a lot we _haven't_ tried. Unless you're talking about that _one_ thing I'll never do."

He chuckled. "No, I'm not talking about that."

"_Good_," she grinned with relief. "So then what is it?"

He stayed silent for a moment, then surprised her by rolling them over so that he was on top of her. He kept most of his weight off of her, though he ground his lower half softly against hers like he simply couldn't help it. Maybe he couldn't.

"Well," he began lowly, a twinkle of slight mischief in his blue eyes as he looked into her lighter ones, "see, ever since my birthday when you took that potion, I can't get the way you were out of my head."

She blushed. "Oh, you mean..."

"Confident... a little dominant... filthy-mouthed," he grinned, grinding a little more firmly for emphasis. It felt good, and she could feel how much he wanted her without having even kissed her or barely touched her yet.

"So you want me to take the potion again?" she asked, burying her fingers in his short hair and arching up towards him a little to make the too-faint contact between them deeper.

He shook his head. "Nah... I was thinking more like... I could just be your slave for a couple days. Maybe the whole week."

She raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Mhmm," he confirmed, leaning down and brushing his lips against hers before looking into her eyes and adding, "I'd even wear a collar for you if you wanted."

Then he _really_ kissed her, and she almost choked on her own sudden lack of air. Bucky... in a collar... being her servant for a week? _Holy frick._

He kissed her deeply, making her head spin. She sucked in a deep breath when they broke apart, opening her eyes and asking him breathlessly, "Have you been reading like... um... Internet smut or something to pass the time lately?"

He shook his head, smiling at her question. "No."

"Then where did you _get_ that idea?" she asked. "And... you wouldn't want _me_ in a collar instead?" Her question was only natural, since he had always been the dominant one and she the all too willing submissive one. Aside from the night of his birthday, that is.

"It crossed my mind," he admitted. "And we could take turns if you wanted. But honestly I'd just _love_ to see what you'd do with me."

She blushed harder and smiled a bit nervously, letting him remove her nightgown from her body as she registered his idea fully. Once the little satin thing was off, he cast it aside and then began softly kissing her neck, sending little sparks of pleasure down her spine. She closed her eyes and said, "I had no idea you had such a... submissive streak in you."

He raised his head and looked down at her with equal parts affection and heat. "Only with you, sweetheart."

She smiled and then brought him down for a kiss, moaning softly into his mouth when his right hand dragged languidly down her breast before lingering and cupping it, playing and making her hips squirm harder against his. She was far from tired now, wide awake and savoring his every touch and every kiss that they shared. It started out lazy, both of them taking their time, but they simply knew one another and what they liked too well. In only moments, he was panting against her neck and she was clawing at his pants, only to be thwarted by the sensation of his cool metal fingers slipping between her legs and into her underwear.

He didn't turn the vibration on just yet, and that was fine with her. She shivered from the cold at his first touches, and he watched her as she let out a long sigh of pleasure as he touched her _just_ right. She was always impressed with him, with how he could use that hand so perfectly for such _delicate_ things when he couldn't truly feel what he was doing, and it was also a great measure of the trust shared between them that he would touch her with it at all. They'd come so far from the days where he didn't even like her _seeing_ the limb, let alone touching it.

He kissed her when he quickened the pace and she moaned, swallowing up her noises and then swiftly, without even breaking the rhythm of his fingers, hauled them both up so that he was sitting and she was on his lap. She clutched his shoulders and made a quiet noise of surprise at the change, smiling at him and then kissing him with deep enthusiasm as she rocked her hips against his hand. He liked that. A few seconds later he shifted his hand a little and then broke the kiss to tell her, "Ride my hand, baby."

He could still make her blush with just a handful of words, and she hoped that would never change. She quickly complied with his wishes, hands sliding up his neck and fingers settling in his hair as she took control of her pleasure. He watched her greedily until she dropped her forehead against his and admitted, "I love it when you tell me what to do."

"I know," he grinned. "Me too." It was true. He couldn't tell what he liked more, dominating her or letting her call the shots instead. All he knew was that he never wanted to be limited to just one. He was greedy like that.

"Keep talking," she all but begged, moving faster on his lap and breathing more heavily as she used his hand as she wished. "Please, Bucky."

He groaned and kissed her again. "I love it when you beg. You don't even know what it does to me." He drew away by just a few inches so he could look at her fully, straddling his lap and riding his left hand ever faster, her cheeks pink and flushed and eyes wild with desire when they weren't closed. He watched her move, watched her hips as they rocked and her breasts as they bounced lightly with each thrust, and he couldn't help but marvel, "God, Summer, I could watch you like this all day."

She smiled and pressed herself against him, pushing her breasts tight against his chest. "Yeah?"

"_Fuck_ yeah," he grinned, and then they were kissing again, deep and wet and a little desperate. He needed attention for himself, but he was enjoying the show far too much think about his own needs just yet.

Then she broke the kiss, whining and moving with urgency as she neared that precipice. She needed more, so she half-gasped out in a low, needy tone, "More, Bucky, _please_."

He knew just what she needed. He kept his eyes fixed upon her and, with a careful shifting of his metal arm, ran the self-system check that made the limb lightly vibrate. Her yelp of a moan was instant, and in only seconds she was tensing and tightening and then letting go with a gasp and a moan that he muffled by pressing his mouth to hers and taking the sound for himself. She shook and trembled on the way up and the way down, breaking the kiss once it was over and sagging against him, her arms limp around him and eyes closed as she laid her head on his shoulder. He only pulled his hand away once all the little aftershocks were gone, and then he held her and kissed her hair sweetly as she panted and smiled.

Slowly, with sated eyes and pure contentedness etched on her pretty features, Summer lifted her head and smiled dreamily up at her husband just before laying a sweet kiss on his lips. Then she told him with a voice that sounded a bit drowsy again, "See? Nobody can take care of me like you can. I know you don't feel like it right now, but... you're _really_ what's keeping me going."

His lips quirked up in a smile, and it was a real one that warmed Summer's heart from the inside out. It wasn't forced or faked for her sake, like so many of his smiles were as of late. She smiled back and kissed him gently, fully seated in his lap and well aware of how badly he needed her attention, but she wanted to make sure he knew one thing before anything else happened.

"I love you," she told him softly, holding his face with both hands and looking him in the eyes. "And you'll never be a burden on me. No matter how all of this ends up, no matter what happens... don't ever think for a minute that you're not the best thing that's ever happened to me."

Her eyes shone with tears threatening to build as she spoke those words, and the sight of that and the achingly sincere tone of her voice made his own eyes soften. She spared him the task of having to say anything back, kissing him again and this time with a greater, more telling intensity. She wanted to make _him_ feel good now, to distract him and take him to their safe place that was always there as a refuge when they both needed it. Sex couldn't solve a single one of their problems, but it could remind him that he wasn't alone and that he had a woman who loved him in ways that he may never believe he deserved. And that made losing all the sleep in the world more than worth it.

At the first slide of her tongue against his, his self control splintered and he held her more tightly, more desperately, clinging to her and holding her so closely that it hurt a little. She didn't mind, letting him do what he pleased and kissing a hot trail along his neck when they broke for air the first time.

He moaned quietly, roughly, and his fingers flexed hard on her hips. There'd be more bruises tomorrow, yet again, and more disappointment on his part for letting himself get carried away. But he was simply far too desperate, grasping her hair next and half-whispering, half-growling, "Summer, I need... I need you, I... _fuck..."_

_"_I'm here," she assured him, gently leading him to lay down. She slid on top of him, kissing him and never letting her skin break contact with his. "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."

Though relief clouded his eyes as she then kissed him and focused all of her energy and attention on him, Summer knew that her words might not always be true. He knew it too. They could be permanently separated in the very near future, and for all the interviews and press relations and lawyers in the world... there was only so much they could do to fight it. Their ultimate fate was not in their own hands, but it helped to pretend that it was and that a simple promise of never leaving each other's side could indeed be kept the way they wanted it to be.

The fight was far from over. It was just beginning, but they had to savor each little victory as it came and draw enough strength to face the next. And for them, after all that they had already faced, being together and in one another's arms for the night would always be a victory all on its own.

**A/N: sorry for the delay in getting this chapter up! I kind of wrote the chapter backwards and then had issues getting it all filled in and readable lol, but with the ever-indispensable help of midnightwings96, I finally got there today :D thank you guys so much for your feedback and lovely reviews and messages, you're all the best and I love you! Also thank you to those of you who read my newest little side story ****_At Your Service _****:) I have no idea when I'll add more to it because I still have a LOT of other things I'm working on, but if you're reading this and you liked that story, I'm sure I'll add more eventually :) Also, I am literally posting this chapter from the grave because the Civil War teaser that we were graced with yesterday murdered me. I'm just... dead. Gone. Obliterated into a thousand tiny pieces of pure feels and that was just from less than a minute's worth of highly edited footage. Clearly, I'm never gonna survive this movie. But ANYWAY, I'd love to hear any thoughts you lovely readers might have, whether for the teaser or the chapter lol (or BOTH :D), and I'll try to get the next chapter out a little faster than this one. See you guys soon! *big giant hugs* :D**


	58. Chapter 58

**A/N: First of all, I am so sorry about how long it took me to write this. I actually have a valid excuse this time, as in the last month RL got quite horrible and I went through a very difficult situation, but I'm happy to say that all is well and everything turned out even better than I could have hoped for, so yay! I'm fine and everybody's fine lol, and now I'm getting back in the groove of writing. **

**In other news, this story is nearing the 1,000 mark for reviews and as I write this the count stands at 917. In celebration of this and the fact that I've gotten so far with this story without abandoning it (YAY lol), I am working on a fun little side AU fic involving - big surprise - Bucky and Summer lol. I'll describe it as a modern friends to lovers story but kind of with a twist lol. It'll be kinda short, probably three chapters long, and I plan on posting it once this story officially hits 1k :D I've got the first chapter done already, so at least a third of it will be ready to go by the time this hits the 1k mark, and I'm very excited about it :D And I'm definitely not trying to extort reviews out of anyone or anything like that - in fact, if enough of you asked me, I'd probably start posting it early, so we'll see how it goes and if I can actually hold out that long :) **

**Thank you guys so much for your continuing support and thank you to midnightwings96 for always being there to help me get back on track when I need it. Big giant hugs to all of you, and I'll see you guys soon! :D **

_Breathe_, Summer silently told herself, closing her eyes and trying to will her racing heart to slow and her lungs to expand and fill with the oxygen they needed. _Just breathe_. _Hold it together_.

After managing to catch her breath again, Summer opened her eyes and felt her heart sink all over again as she the reality of her current surroundings sunk in for the second or third time in the last hour. She was in a federal courthouse, sitting in the gallery in the row closest to the defense's table. Her hands were in her lap, fingers fidgeting with anxiety that had no other outlet, and flanking her were Steve and Natasha. Their presence kept her anchored to reality, and their support was something that she wasn't sure she could make it without, especially that day.

Bucky was sitting in front of her at the defense table, dressed in a suit and tie that she had helped fasten for him earlier that morning, and sitting next to Matt and Foggy. He sat straight in his chair, shoulders back and posture confident despite how she knew that he felt underneath his stoic appearance. She knew because she felt the very same way beneath her own, much less convincing mask of calm.

Today was the day for opening statements, and every ear in the room was attuned to the prosecutor as he laid the foundations for his case against the Winter Soldier. His name was Richard Strong, and he was a federal prosecutor with decades of experience putting criminals behind bars. The Attorney General had appointed him special prosecutor back when Bucky had first been arraigned, and every time he spoke, Summer's stomach twisted into new knots.

This was the man who would do everything in his power to make sure that her husband never got to raise their children with her or even celebrate their next wedding anniversary with her. And he spoke with conviction as he kicked off his case against Bucky.

"Let me be clear," Strong said as he addressed the jury, walking about the courtroom with the sort of ease that came with experience. "I _know_ that this is not a simple case. I would never suggest that it is, or that you, the jury, have an easy task ahead of you. This is a complicated and frankly _brutal_ case. And it's going to be a long one. But this is a case about accountability. It's about justice and truth - two things that we, the American people, have been denied for decades by a corrupt and dishonest government. This is our chance to see justice served not just for the families of those affected by this case, but for our entire country. The assassination of our 35th President changed the very fabric of our nation, and the lies that we were fed following his death ensured that our true enemies were never brought to justice. _This_ is our chance to change that."

"The crimes that the defendant is charged with are well-documented, and the evidence that you will be presented with is incontrovertible. You will see in the coming weeks that while this is no ordinary case and that emotions will likely run high from beginning to end... there is one inevitable conclusion, after all is said and done. And that conclusion is that justice _must_ be served."

His remarks over, the prosecutor turned to take his seat back at his own table, and Summer swallowed down a lump in her throat. She did her best to remain impassive on the outside, but it was quickly becoming a losing battle. Natasha noticed this and placed a comforting hand on top of Summer's, giving her a tight smile when Summer glanced up at her in slight surprise. Natasha was _not_ a touchy-feely person, but she knew when a moment of comfort was needed all the same.

She mustered up a smile in return that was really more of a grimace, wondering if this would ever get easier at any point during the trial. This was the start of it all, and it would get far worse from here, but her heart already felt unbearably heavy. She had tried to prepare herself for the last several weeks, during jury selection and then after, but really one could only prepare themselves so much for such a thing as the love of their life being put on trial for crimes that they truly did _not_ commit.

She took another deep breath as Matt stood up from the defense table, walking stick in hand as he prepared to make the defense's opening statements. She had full faith in him as well as Foggy, but she still prayed extra hard that she had made the right choice in hiring them. They were going up against not only a lawyer with infinitely more experience than them, but a lawyer with the full backing and support of the government and Justice Department. It was, for all intents and purposes, David and Goliath.

She could only pray that Matt was good with a slingshot.

* * *

Bucky had done his very best to mentally prepare for this day. It was one thing to wait for the trial to begin and to know theoretically what was on the horizon, but now that the primary proceedings had finally begun and he had just listened to the prosecutor open his case against him... keeping his outward emotionless mask intact became his primary mission.

His appearance was the one thing that he could control. It was why he had cut his hair a few months before, and why he allowed Summer to fuss over his suit and tie and make sure that he looked like an upstanding citizen who had full control over his own mind. It was why he'd had a session with Dr. Connor a few days prior, to help ensure that he went into the trial with the best attitude and outlook possible. He wanted to be strong. He didn't want to sit there and let the world see the fear and dread clutching at his insides in a constant, never-relenting grip. So he stared ahead, paying attention and remaining respectful while keeping every last feeling buried under the surface.

He watched as Matt took a moment before he began his own statement. He seemed to be gathering his thoughts or perhaps listening for something, but before the judge could grow impatient, he finally began to speak.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he said, facing the jury and starting off with a traditional greeting, "all of here in this room have a long road ahead of us. That's one thing I'm sure we can all agree on. Each of you understands the significance of this case and the historical nature of the crimes that my client has been charged with. I am not going to lecture any of you about how important the outcome of this case is, because none of you would be here right now if you didn't already understand that. I am also going to respectfully disagree with Mr. Strong on one very important point. This is _not_ a complicated case. It's actually the simplest one that I've taken on in my... admittedly relatively short career."

Matt let himself grin just a touch at the end of that sentence, and Bucky glanced at the jury to find one of the female jurors trying to stifle a small smile. What the _hell_.

"This case isn't a question of forensics or DNA evidence, or even if my client was present at the scenes of the crimes," Matt went on, walking forward a few steps. "Most of us are already aware of most of the prosecution's key pieces of evidence thanks to the SHIELD leak and the nature of 24 hour news cycles and the Internet. What might not be as well-known is the reason why I advised my client to plead innocent instead of not guilty by reason of insanity, which the New York Times claimed was 'arguably the worst legal decision ever made'."

Bucky glanced at the judge, who was listening intently while reading over something laying in front of him. The jury, meanwhile, was fixated on the words of the very green lawyer handling the defense of the world's most prolific assassin. Bucky might have questioned hiring Nelson &amp; Murdock had Steve and Summer not vouched so determinedly for them.

"Let's think about the word _innocent_. According to Merriam-Webster, the primary definition of 'innocent' is _free from guilt or sin especially through lack of knowledge of evil. _I want to ask everybody in this room to consider that for a moment. Think about a child who's forced to do something by their parents that they don't want to do. Regardless of how horrible or unthinkable the act, we don't blame the child for the crime. The child is innocent. The child doesn't know right from wrong or understand what it is that makes something evil. We punish the parent for the crime, because the parent is accountable. The _parent_ is guilty, because the parent possesses the knowledge of evil."

"Now I want you to think about that same child. That child knows their own name. They know what year it is. Depending on their age, they know their address, city, state. Most kids can tell you what their birthday is before they can answer what two plus two is. Even in that basic state of innocence, they have an equally basic foundation of knowledge about themselves."

Standing still, leaning only a little on his walking stick and facing the jury like he could see them as clearly as any seeing person in the room, Matt continued, "Now I want you to think about my client. For over 70 years, he was beaten, broken down and brainwashed until there was nothing left of the man that he once was. There's no knowledge of evil when you're a blank slate. There's no knowledge of right and wrong when you're denied even the basic self-awareness of a five year old child. My client spent _seven decades_ having no knowledge of his own name, when or where he was born, or anything outside of what his captors and handlers _allowed_ him to know. And they went to great lengths, through conditioning methods both sadistically crude and sophisticated, to make sure that he knew nothing beyond how to kill, who to kill, and how to submit to their authority."

Bucky's carefully maintained mask slipped just by a fraction. He blinked and looked down, memories of being strapped down and forced to endure countless rounds of unbearable electroshock and waking up to shivering, freezing cold water dripping down on his face from the melting ice in his hair flashing through his mind before he could stop it. But it wasn't even the worst of it. The worst was the screaming - not his own, but of the people that he was sent to kill, the people whose lives he took without even questioning why because it felt _right_ and natural and...

He blinked and shoved those thoughts away. He had to stay present. Dr. Connor had been very keen on reminding him of that.

"Innocence isn't necessarily the absence of a crime," Matt said. "It's actually far simpler than that. Convicting James Barnes of the crimes that he is charged with would be tantamount to incarcerating the murder weapon rather than the person wielding it. It isn't justice. It makes no logical sense. _He_ was the weapon. A living, breathing, mindless weapon. HYDRA was the the finger on the trigger."

"Today, Mr. Barnes is no longer a weapon. He broke through his conditioning after the fall of SHIELD and has been recovering ever since with the help of family, friends, and a board certified psychologist. He has worked with the Avengers over the last few years out of a desire to atone for his past and use his skills to save lives rather than take them. He has a wife and two kids. He is not a danger to the public. He's a victim, as much as HYDRA's victims were. And I have faith that you, ladies and gentlemen, will reject the call to set a dangerous precedent of victim-blaming. Because if, as Mr. Strong told you, this case is about truth and justice... we will achieve neither by sending an innocent man to death row. Thank you."

After closing his opening statement, Matt walked back to the defense table and sat next to Foggy, all while Bucky blinked and let out a long, quiet breath. Listening to arguments both for and against him highlighted the ever-simmering war within himself, his dueling urges to blame himself and defend himself never reconciling the way that he wished they would. He wanted to believe in Matt's words and on some level he truly did, but there was always that voice lurking in the back of his mind telling him that no matter what anyone said or thought, blood would always be on his hands and it would always be his fault for not breaking the conditioning and putting an end to it.

With his almost inhumanly sharp hearing, Bucky heard when Foggy leaned over and whispered _nailed it _in Matt's ear. Only time would tell if that was truly the case, but one thing that Bucky knew for sure was that at the very least, his legal team truly did believe in his innocence. Inexperienced as they were, maybe they really were his best shot at freedom.

* * *

Later on that day, after the day's proceedings had come to an end, Summer hugged both Matt and Foggy in the halls of the courthouse and thanked them for believing in Bucky as much as she did.

She thought that the opening statement had been perfect, and she decided to never again doubt her decision to hire them. They were way better than any high-priced shark of an attorney would have been, and she made sure that they knew she thought that of them.

Outside of the courthouse were reporters, naturally waiting to try to get a statement or two from the now-notoriously tight-lipped man on trial. He never spoke a single word to any of them, instead holding Summer's hand almost painfully tightly as he stared past all of the vultures and steered them to the car that waited for them. Today was no different, but when Bucky slipped his right hand into Summer's left just before they walked out of the courthouse, she had an idea.

She walked behind him and then settled at his left side, looking him the eye as she took his metal hand in hers and intertwined their fingers. It was hard enough for him to show it in public at all - after a lot of debate and hesitance on his part, Bucky had decided to not disguise the limb during court proceedings - and she wanted to make sure that the world knew how accepting she was of _all_ of him.

He understood perfectly without her having to say a word. He leaned in and kissed the side of her head through her hair, and then they stepped outside.

The next day, when several news articles that she read online contained zoomed in photos of their linked hands, Summer wasn't surprised one bit. She did, however, take inspiration from it and write a post on her blog commenting on the matter. Accompanying the post was a photo that she took specifically for it, of his hand lying palm-up while her smaller hand laid within it, their fingers loosely entwined. The name of the post was simply _Acceptance_, and it was an answer to a number of comments that she had seen expressing disgust or bewilderment over the courthouse photos.

The post received an overwhelmingly positive response. Wives of vets and others with artificial limbs appreciated Summer's words, and Summer was more than grateful for every last bit of support that she could garner for Bucky.

But she also knew that she could write all the blog posts in the world and it likely wouldn't change the outcome of the trial. What _could_ was the upcoming weeks of testimony, and those began in what felt like the blink of an eye.

* * *

_Week one _

The first week saw two very important witnesses take the stand - Nick Fury and Natasha.

"Director," Strong said as he approached the witness stand where Fury sat looking appropriately blank but as unimpressed as ever, "you don't exactly have a history of honesty when it comes to co-operating with the courts or the government. You are aware that you're under oath?"

Fury's one eyed, mildly amused glare said all anyone needed to know about how he felt about the prosecutor. "I am."

"You are also aware that during the months you kept Mr. Barnes in your employ, you were breaking quite a few federal laws?"

"Considering the fact that I've yet to be charged with a single crime," Fury replied, "I'm gonna decline to answer that question unless you've got an arrest warrant in your pocket."

Strong continued on unimpeded. "You sent the defendant out on field missions while he worked for you, is that correct?"

"It is."

"And what sort of process did he clear in order to be approved for such work?"

"Full psychological evaluation," Fury replied. "Extensive medical testing, interviews, field simulations. Same standards you guys have at the FBI, only _more_ rigorous considering we deal with enhanced humans."

"Right, of course. Enhanced humans who don't answer to the law but rather to you instead, Director. Do you believe that this is acceptable under the law?"

"No, I don't _believe_ that. What I _know_ is that we live in a world that the men who wrote our laws never could have dreamed of, and keeping it safe means doing what we have to do."

"Doing what we have to do," Strong nodded. "Right. So you would ask us, the American people, to trust you with all of this power and trust your judgement when you want to put the Winter Soldier on the streets even though just a couple of years ago he was responsible for the deaths of at least 15 SHIELD agents and several civilians? Should I remind you that _you_ were very nearly one of those casualties yourself?"

At the defense table, Bucky's eyes flickered down and away for a moment. Strong was referring to the mess in Washington D.C. during the SHIELD debacle, and Bucky had indeed caused those deaths.

_HYDRA caused those deaths_, he mentally corrected himself, though his conviction there was... unsteady .

"Let me tell you what I believe, Counselor," Fury said, looking Strong square in the eye. "I believe that if you and the Attorney General want to throw Barnes in prison, then you'd better arrest Clint Barton and Erik Selvig immediately and charge them with aiding Loki during the Chitauri invasion. But I never heard even a peep out of anybody calling for that after the attack on Manhattan. Why is that?"

"As far as I'm aware, the circumstances were very different in their cases."

"They weren't," Fury replied. "The only difference was the fact that they were brainwashed by magic where Barnes was brainwashed by more traditional methods. The _other_ difference is that President Kennedy and Howard Stark were very visible targets who the government has to punish _somebody_ for in order to feel like they've still got some credibility with the public."

"The truth is actually a lot simpler than that," Strong replied. "We have the assassin in custody and we are prosecuting him accordingly, despite the efforts of men like you who would prefer to parade dangerous men and women around in costumes rather than follow the rule of law. Can you truly argue otherwise?"

"If not for my dangerous men and women in costumes, Manhattan would be the capital of Loki's new world order and you probably wouldn't _be_ here trying to prosecute an innocent man right now," Fury replied.

Ignoring that comment, Strong asked Fury one last question before the court took a recess. "Did Mr. Barnes ever exhibit erratic or unstable behavior while on your payroll?"

Fury paused for a moment, thinking over how to best answer that question. "Yes."

"Can you elaborate?"

"Absolutely. I can tell you that the erratic behavior he occasionally displayed was identical to every other war veteran I've ever worked with. I won't tell you he's not damaged or suffering from one hell of a case of PTSD. But so are a lot of Americans, and what they need is help, not punishment."

Strong nodded. "So previous trauma is an excuse for murder?"

"It is when the trauma in question was still in progress during the time of the murder and involved literally frying Barnes' brain on a regular basis until he forgot _how_ to say no. I'd say that's a pretty damn _good_ excuse."

With that, the prosecutor excused Fury and the court took a recess. When they returned, Natasha took her oath and was next to take the witness stand. She was dressed sharply for the occasion and sat in a manner similar to Fury, shoulders back and confident with not a trace of doubt anywhere on her face.

"Miss Romanoff, you know something about conditioning and mind control, correct? If my understanding of your history with the KGB is accurate."

Natasha eyed the prosecutor with a well-practiced neutrality and replied, "That's a fair statement."

"Was your experience similar to that of the defendant?"

She paused and thought for a moment before replying, "Yes and no. I was a child when my conditioning began. It was easier, in a sense, for my handlers to manipulate me. It was more of a case of implanted memories and subtle, constant conditioning rather than machines and experiments and electroshock."

"Right. Do you consider yourself to have been making conscious decisions when you killed for the KGB and the others you worked for, or was it all the conditioning, as the defendant is claiming was the case for him?"

"To be perfectly honest, my own personal history is a lot more complicated than his and I would not use it as a reference. I was never a hero who fell into the wrong hands and became a weapon."

"I never said you were a hero," Strong replied somewhat pointedly. "What I am asking you is if you were aware of right and wrong while you were under Soviet control and carrying out their assassinations."

"I was aware of the _concept _of right and wrong_, _yes, but my understanding was completely backwards. And after a certain point, I stopped caring. That's the nature of brainwashing. It's easier to cling to what you know and trust than break through the lies and face what you've done."

"So, could you say with 100% confidence that, in the case of Mr. Barnes, he carried out every mission fully under the control of others with zero knowledge of right and wrong? Do you, as someone with firsthand knowledge with the art of conditioning, believe that the sort of total innocence that he is claiming is possible?"

"In his case, yes," she replied. "You can't strip a person of their identity and autonomy and then tell them they're ultimately responsible for their own actions."

Nodding and turning, pacing a few steps that were seemingly meant to be dramatic, Strong turned back to her and said, "I suppose one of my main concerns is the fact that while these arguments are compelling, we simply have to take your word for it. None of us are in your head, or Mr. Barnes's head. Can you give me one airtight reason why any of us should believe that he truly had no awareness of the evil of his actions?"

Natasha glanced at Bucky as she thought, her eyes briefly flickering to Summer always sitting faithfully behind him in the gallery along with Steve, and then she replied, "Well, anyone can _say_ anything. I could preach at you all day and it wouldn't convince anybody of anything. Ultimately it comes down to actions, and I would suggest that the jury find their answer to your question by looking at the big picture. In HYDRA's hands he became an enemy to the United States - and many others - but each time he's had the freedom to make his own choices, he's always chosen right." She paused and then added, "And that's more than I can say for myself."

Strong raised an eyebrow and then replied, "Thank you for your honesty, Miss Romanoff. Would you consider him a potential threat to the public, given his past and instability?"

"I think that any person can become a threat to the public given the right circumstances," she replied smoothly. "He's no more of a threat than Steve Rogers or myself."

"Maybe that's the problem," Strong said before ending his line of questioning. Natasha glanced at Bucky again before leaving the witness stand, and she gave him an almost imperceptible smile in reply to his equally imperceptible look of gratitude.

* * *

_Week two_

"Captain," Foggy said as he approached the witness stand, no trace remaining of the starstruck man who had once asked this very witness for his autograph, "you dealt directly with my client when he was still under HYDRA's control, is that correct?"

Steve, dressed in a fine gray suit and hyperaware of every last word out of his mouth, replied, "That is correct. Until HYDRA tried to have me killed, I still believed that he had died in 1945."

"Were you immediately aware of the extent of his brainwashing, when your paths crossed?"

"Yes," Steve nodded. "As soon as I saw his face I said his name, and he didn't recognize it. He didn't recognize me. He had no awareness of anything beyond completing his mission."

"As someone who knew Mr. Barnes since childhood and arguably better than anybody else currently alive," Foggy went on, "do you believe that he was able, in any capacity, to control his actions as the Winter Soldier? Was there some part of him that you believe might have been aware and still functional, however slight?"

"Absolutely not," Steve replied. "I looked in his eyes when he was still under their control and there was nothing there. They made sure of that. We've recovered files and video footage from HYDRA raids that show how whenever he would question orders or show a sliver of remembering anything, they would hit the reset button and make sure it didn't happen again."

"The jury will be viewing that footage soon," Foggy noted. "You've been with him throughout almost his entire recovery, following the fall of SHIELD," Foggy went on. "Does he ever exhibit unprovoked violent tendencies or suffer relapses, for lack of a better term?"

"No," Steve replied. "There's flashbacks and nightmares and the... classic signs of shell shock. PTSD," he corrected himself, remembering the modern term. "But if you're asking me if he ever wakes up one day as the Winter Soldier and tries to attack at random, no, he doesn't. He deals with the same things as everybody who's been to war. It's just... amplified. And that's expected, considering the extreme things that he went through."

A few more questions later, it was Strong's turn to question Steve. As it turned out, he really only had one question that he felt was necessary in order to make his point.

"Captain Rogers, if I understand the chain of events correctly," Strong said, "you were willing to place yourself in a watery grave at the bottom of the Potomac before you put a stop to your old friend's killing spree. Can you give the jury a single reason as to why you feel that they should listen to your very obviously biased opinion of Mr. Barnes?"

Nonplussed, Steve replied, "Well, it's like Mr. Nelson said - I've known him longer than anyone. I've known him since we were kids. I know better than anyone who he is and what he's capable of and what he's _not_ capable of. Am I objective? No, I guess I'm not. But that's not really the point here."

"No, the point is that you are asking the jury to make the same questionable gamble that you did when you let the defendant nearly beat you to death in a disintegrating helicarrier. Is it not true that without your accelerated healing, he would have accomplished his objective to kill you?"

"I don't see how that's relevant to this case and whether or not he's accountable for the crimes he's charged with," Steve replied.

"It's relevant because so far the defense's primary tactic is to tell the jury to take the word of highly biased witnesses that Mr. Barnes is as innocent of these crimes as a child would be," Strong retorted. "Now I'm not charging that he willingly defected to Soviet Russia or that no mental manipulation occurred because the evidence clearly states otherwise. But Captain, if the Winter Soldier had been anyone else, someone whose face you had never seen before, can you truthfully say that you would defend _that_ man as vigorously as you are defending your friend?"

"Yes I would," Steve replied. "I've spent my whole life doing what I can to stand up to bullies and protect innocent people."

"You're calling the federal government a group of bullies?"

"No, they're something worse," Steve replied without flinching or even considering mincing his words. "In this case, they're cowards."

* * *

While the trial wasn't televised, journalists sat in the gallery on a daily basis and took notes that they would report on later after court was dismissed. Steve's branding of the government as _cowards_ struck a nerve with some, but to the surprise of some, many in the general public seemed to agree with the notion. Faith in the government was even lower than it had been in previous years, and while the trial was obviously an attempt to change that, it didn't seem that there was much tangible success on that front just yet.

Dr. Connor testified the day after Steve did, closing out the second week's testimonies. He painted a clear and credible picture of his longtime patient, not attempting to sugarcoat the struggles with dissociation, depression, and anxiety that Bucky had been _consumed_ with when he had first allowed Steve and Natasha to drag him to the psychologist's office. As frank as the doctor was, he was also very firm when he said that while Bucky was still a work in progress, he had come _miles_ from where he had once been and was, in his professional opinion, innocent of the charges that he was facing. He described Bucky as a traumatized and permanently altered ex soldier who would never be what he once was, but also a morally conscious man who wanted to atone for his past while living a quiet and peaceful life with his new family.

The prosecutor in turn attempted to paint the doctor as an Avengers apologist who was in too deep with the lawless group to see the full picture. He pointed out differences in Connor's assessment versus that of the top psychologists at the Bureau who had evaluated Bucky after his arrest. The former painted a forgiving and sympathetic picture, where the latter described a man who was unstable and uncooperative and potentially _very_ dangerous.

Weeks three and four came and went after that with more evidence and more testimony, and Summer watched Bucky grow more restless and disturbed by the constant back and forth of the prosecution's offense and the responding defense. He was barely sleeping and she could hardly get him to eat half the time, and the kids were picking up on both of their parents' stress levels despite Summer's efforts to insulate them from it all. David kept to himself most of the time, his main companion being Loki the kitty, and Adelaide never ceased to cry every day when Summer and Bucky would kiss her goodbye and leave her in someone else's care until they returned from court. Then at night, both kids would usually sleep curled up in bed with their parents, almost like they feared they'd disappear at some point during the night.

The first time Adelaide ever shook her head _no_, it was while Bucky was handing her to Darcy so she could take her for the day and he and Summer could head to court. But little Addie grabbed the lapel of his suit jacket and pulled, wailing and shaking her head vigorously as she clung to him with all of her might. Bucky looked heartbroken as he gave in and cradled her back to his chest, the little one and a half year old girl chanting _dada_ and still crying as she locked her little arms around his neck and refused to let go. Summer had watched as Bucky walked away with her for a moment, comforting her and whispering things to her that made his eyes shine a little bit, and then Summer knew why this was so hard on him. One day very soon, he might have to hug and kiss her goodbye for good.

It was impossible to ever relax or have a true moment to breathe when the trial loomed over the family like an enormous cloud that stretched from one corner of the sky to the other and couldn't be escaped. Summer still had to work her regular job to keep them afloat while keeping up with her new public image and doing what she could to gain more support for Bucky, and almost every breath she took was influenced in some way by the trial. Every happy moment they could capture had a twinge of sadness that came with it, as neither Summer nor Bucky could bring themselves to say out loud what would become of them both if they never got to have those sorts of moments again.

The funny, charming, self-assured personality that she had watched bloom over the years within Bucky seemed to evaporate under the stress that he was trying to cope with. He and David were similar in that sense, retreating into themselves further the harder things got, and she didn't try to change that. Everybody had their ways of coping, and hers was working herself to death in order to have minimal downtime where she'd be left with nothing to do but think and worry.

Then, during the fifth week of the trial, Matt and Foggy suggested a tactic that made Summer do nothing _but_ think and worry. After weeks of witnesses either vouching for Bucky's innocence or questioning it, Foggy was the one to point out that the jury hadn't heard more than two words from Bucky himself in any capacity. There were no interviews, no statements, nothing to go on aside from what others said about him. And while that was fine, Foggy wondered if hearing directly from Bucky himself would better convince the jury that he was, in fact, an actual human being and not the ruthless killer that the prosecution was painting him as.

It was still relatively early in the trial, and the move was risky considering Bucky would have to face Strong's cross examination while on the stand, but after several days of debating the matter, Bucky somewhat reluctantly agreed to the idea. Summer was equally reluctant in giving her support, but she saw the logic of the idea. The public knew her and Steve and Natasha, and Matt and Foggy were in quite a media spotlight of their own these days, but nobody knew Bucky. Changing that, at least for the jury, could go a long way in showing them who he really was.

Bucky "practiced" with his lawyers for the better part of a week before they officially called him to the stand. When the day came, Bucky was even more quiet and lost in his own head than usual.

Inside the courthouse a few minutes before court would be back in session, Summer fixed Bucky's tie as they waited in the halls. Steve was there along with Matt and Foggy, and a number of others were also on their way. Natasha would be there momentarily with Wanda, everyone aware of how difficult the day may prove to be for Bucky and wanting to show their support.

Summer, meanwhile, simply couldn't stop fiddling with his damn tie.

"Damn it," she groaned, pulling and adjusting the knot to work out imaginary imperfections for the fifth time, and Bucky was growing rather tired of it.

"It's fine, leave it," he muttered, staring off into space and second guessing his decision to testify with every new breath he took.

"No, it's not," she replied under her breath, refusing to stop. With how few things in life there were that she could control in any capacity, she had to control the things that she could - even if they were as insignificant as making sure Bucky's tie wasn't rumpled or tied unevenly.

"Summer, it's - will you please stop?"

"I'm almost done, I just need to -"

Her words cut off when Bucky physically took her wrists and gently pushed her hands away and quietly snapped, "_Stop_." She looked up and was surprised to see genuine irritation in his eyes, and she might have been hurt if she hadn't been aware of the fact that he was carrying the world on his shoulders and that she had been mothering the _crap_ out of him lately.

"Sorry," she nodded, letting her hands drop to her sides. She looked away from him, and he instantly looked regretful for having snapped at her, but then Steve's hand was on his shoulder and he lost any chance he could have had to say that he was sorry.

"Ready?" Steve asked, and Bucky nodded wordlessly. "Remember, you _don't_ have to do this. It's not too late if you want to change your mind."

"I'm not changing my mind," Bucky replied quietly. "It's the right move." He paused. "I think."

Steve nodded, patting his shoulder again. "Just keep your head on straight, okay? Strong's gonna try to play on your guilt and you can't let him do that. Don't let him get in your head."

Steve nodded, and then having overhead the conversation, Matt interjected, "He's gonna try to win the case based on whatever happens today. It's _that_ important."

"I know," Bucky replied. "I can do it."

Steve nodding and Matt accepting that answer, Bucky then turned to Summer and took her hand in his. She gave him a small smile and leaned in to kiss her cheek. "Sorry I snapped at you."

"Oh gosh, no, don't be. I'm sorry for getting on your nerves," she smiled back, wrapping her arms around him in a short hug. "I love you."

"Love you too," he murmured before pulling away. He offered her a tight smile that was almost a grimace, and then it was time to head inside the courtroom and wait for the judge.

The couple walked in hand in hand until they had to part ways. Summer took her seat in the gallery and Bucky at his next to his lawyers, and they both hoped to God that disaster would not ensue once the proceedings began.

* * *

Matt and Foggy took turns questioning Bucky, and it went off without a hitch. Everything went largely as they had practiced, with Bucky answering questions about the torture and brainwashing that he had endured at the hands of HYDRA. Bucky confirmed that he had been awake at least some of the time during the procedure that attached his now-infamous metal arm, though his memory of the operation was fuzzy. He recalled being put into cryo-chambers and recounted what he could remember of the thawing procedures, and at multiple turns, the lawyers would ask of his self-awareness during these events. The answer was always the same; he knew nothing aside from what his handlers told him and "programmed" him to know.

Matt then played the video footage of Bucky's debriefing following the death of Howard Stark. It was no easier to watch than it had been the first time, when Bucky had watched it at the tower following a HYDRA raid, but it was a piece of key evidence and it backed up Bucky's claims. The jury watched with visible horror on a few of their faces as on the screen, Bucky sat confused and mumbling to himself as he slowly came to realize that he had once known the man that he had just caused the death of. The now-deceased Alexander Pierce tried to assure him that he was doing good work and that it was impossible for him to have known the considerably old Stark, and that Bucky needed to trust them. But as his memories continued to threaten to break through to the surface, Pierce's tactics changed and HYDRA's brutality was showcased.

Bucky looked away from the screen as he was forced down into that God-forsaken chair and held there by multiple agents. He struggled in the midst of his panic, biting one agent who tried to shove a bite guard into his mouth and killing several others with his bare hands they continued to try to subdue him and force him into submission. It was a losing battle, of course, and it ended the way that quite a few of his memories did - with screams, pain and agony, and the loss of what tiny fraction of his identity that he might have recovered had the machine not reset him back into the emotionless and nameless assassin that he once was.

Most of the jury was horrified to have seen the memory-wiping process firsthand. Summer, sitting in the gallery as always, couldn't help the several tears that fell from her eyes after the screams in the video finally subsided. Wanda, who had never seen the video before, had the same expression as most of those in the jury.

"As you can see, ladies and gentleman," Matt said, directly addressing the jury, "Mr. Barnes's actions as the Winter Soldier were not made of his own will or with his own consent. For anyone who doubts the truth of that statement, I welcome them to volunteer to undergo the same treatment at the hands of the same kind of people and see what kind of decisions they're capable of making after."

And with that, Bucky was then the prosecution's witness. Matt sat back down with Foggy, and Strong wasted no time in standing up and getting started, as if he'd been waiting impatiently for this moment all week.

"Mr. Barnes," the prosecutor began, "have you recovered all of your memories or only some?"

"Some," Bucky replied. "A lot. Not all."

"Do you remember your family at all? Growing up? Going to school?"

"Yes," Bucky replied.

"Joining the Army?"

"Yes."

"Serving and being captured in Austria?"

"Yes."

"Do you have any memory of the fall that was believed to have killed you?"

Bucky, strong as he was, still let his eyes drop briefly before he nodded and muttered more quietly, "Yes."

"Of the dozens of murders believed to have been carried out by the Winter Soldier," Strong went on, "how many of those do you remember?"

"Some," Bucky replied.

"Which ones?" Strong asked.

Bucky hesitated. "... 12 or 13 of them."

"Is it 12 or is it 13?"

Before Bucky could reply, Foggy was speaking on his behalf. "Your honor, _objection_ \- irrelevant _and_ badgering."

The judge paused before nodding, "Sustained. Make your point, Counselor."

"Yes, your honor. You see, I ask because when the Bureau raided the defendant's home, we recovered a very worn notebook buried pretty deeply among his possessions. This notebook was written in both Russian and English, and it appears to be a journal of sorts. Did you or did you not write down your memories as you recovered them?"

"I did," Bucky replied, stomach twisting slightly. He didn't like where this was heading.

"Did your therapist have you do this?"

"No, it was my wife's idea," Bucky replied. She hadn't been his wife back then. In fact, she had suggested he write down his memories before they had even shared their first kiss.

"I see. There's a lot of dark stuff in this notebook. You wrote down your memories of some of your old targets, correct?"

"Yes," Bucky replied through slightly gritted teeth.

"One of those targets was seven year old little girl at her birthday party, wasn't it?"

Bucky refused to look the lawyer in the eye. Heart starting to race, he muttered, "Yes."

Foggy glanced nervously at Matt, and then at the jury. Summer and Steve were both trying to stuff down their inner panic, staying cool on the outside while they were both bubbling with anxiety on the inside.

"Why did HYDRA have you kill an innocent child?"

"I don't know," he answered truthfully. "I never knew why, with anyone. All I knew was the mission."

"And you never questioned why a little girl with, in your own words, 'blonde hair and big blue eyes with an even bigger smile', would be your 'mission'?"

"No. I didn't." He paused. "I couldn't."

"But you sure seemed to think twice about killing Howard Stark, at least after the fact," Strong remarked. "Why was that?"

"I almost recognized him," Bucky replied. "He said my name. I didn't know it was my name, but he said it and it... it triggered... something."

"So you recognized the _very_ aged face of someone you were acquainted with before your fall," Strong said, "and your instinct told you that killing him was wrong. Why didn't that same basic human instinct stop you from killing an innocent child?"

"I don't know," was all Bucky to think to answer with. He would never feel a deeper sense of shame than he did for that particular little girl's death. It was incomprehensible, the evil of that act.

"Is it possible that you were more than aware of the difference between right and wrong and simply chose to do the easiest thing and follow your orders?"

This time Matt objected, but the judge overruled him and told Bucky to answer the question. He forced himself to reply, "No. All I knew was my mission."

"Right," Strong nodded. "Except in the case of Steve Rogers. You failed _that_ mission because you didn't want to kill your friend, correct?"

"I _did_ almost kill him," Bucky said in disbelief.

"That's not an answer to my question."

Bucky exhaled sharply, frustratedly, and replied, "I didn't kill him because I was confused and he said something I thought I remembered. I didn't know he was my friend. He kept saying he was but it didn't make sense, _nothing_ made sense."

"Still, you made a choice," Strong pointed out. "And this was while you were still under full conditioning. If you were capable of making a choice then, how were you not capable of making a choice during your dozens of other missions?"

Bucky had no way of answering that. He just didn't know. "I don't know."

"Do you think that it's possible that you _do_ know and you simply don't want to come to terms with your own culpability?"

"No," Bucky answered somewhat weakly. Strong was indeed playing on his guilt, and he was doing a damn good of it. Bucky already deeply regretted taking the stand.

"Can you give us any assurances that you are not still under HYDRA's conditioning and therefore no longer a threat?"

Bucky's head snapped up sharply. "What?"

"According to ex-HYDRA agents in our custody, HYDRA liked to install safeguards and key words in their more mentally compromised agents. Shutdown codes, trigger words, 'reset buttons', if you will. Can you prove that none of these 'codes' are still active in your own subconscious?"

Bucky furrowed his brows, just the very thought of such a thing existing deep within his mind sending a thrill of panic through his veins and his very skin. "I... no, I can't prove that, but... no, I don't think so. I've never had anything like that happen."

"Right, well, the trigger could be any word in any language. You could be fine one minute and snapping the neck of the person closest to you in the next if they say the wrong word. Any word. _Motherland, Khrushchev,_ maybe _Sputnik_..."

The minute the word left the prosecutor's mouth, before Bucky could so much as breathe or understand what was happening to him, his eyes rolled in the back of his head and every muscle in his body went limp as he simply and literally _shut down_. He fell forward, slumping over the witness stand and his head and upper body dangling precariously off of it. It was exactly the result that the prosecutor had been aiming for.

And just like that, the entire courtroom immediately erupted into complete and utter chaos.

**A/N #2: ehehehehehehe *hides***


	59. Chapter 59

**A/N: holy crap, guys! 45 reviews for one chapter's a new record for this story, so my HUGE and GIANT thanks to each and every one of you :D (honestly, you guys make me want to Sputnik Bucky more often lol) Seriously though, I'm floored. DANG. Also, I'm sorry for ending the last chapter the way that I did (I'm also not sorry, though, because clearly I'm a terrible person) BUT hopefully getting this next chapter out in a timely manner will help make up for it :) "Hopefully" being the key word. Lol. **

**One word on the legal details of this story and the whole Sputnik thing: I know nothing about anything legal beyond what I've seen on TV and what I've read to research writing this case. Literally, I know nothing beyond the very basics lol, and I know that if this trial and such happened in real life, it would be BEYOND a circus. I say this because while I've done my best to keep the trial realistic, I'm also trying to maintain a certain flow and timeline here, so the consequences that the prosecutor will face for his actions are the ones that fit the story's needs the best. I'm sure that in real life things would go a bit differently, but I also think that in real life, Bucky would never have gotten a formal trial in the first place and he would have either been killed upon arrest or given a military tribunal. So I'm just doing the best I can and trying to kind of maintain the balance between realism and what'll help keep the story moving the way it needs to. So yeah... I just wanted to put that out there, because I've been very nervous about competently writing all the legal stuff (seriously, ACK) since day one, and I hope that it all translates as passably realistic. You guys can let me know if I fail miserably or squeak by on that one :) **

**ALSO ONE MORE NOTE. Ahead in this chapter is talk of torture, attempted suicide, and I guess what qualifies as body horror and mutilation, and technically self-harm also. There's nothing very graphic, but there's enough that I feel that a trigger warning is necessary. Heavy stuff ahead, guys.**

**But anyway, without further ado, behold the aftermath :D I love and adore you all! (And midnightwings96 for her ever-irreplaceable help!) **

In her lifetime, Summer had witnessed some pretty chaotic things - her house being hit by a missile, Stark Tower being attacked, and HYDRA nearly killing both herself and her son - but yet none of it had prepared her for something as terrifying and shocking as what Richard Strong had just done to her husband.

The minute that the word "Sputnik" had left Bucky crumpling forward and hanging unconscious halfway over the witness stand, the court had erupted into gasps and shocked shouts and general mayhem. Summer and Steve both shot up out of their seats at the exact same time, not caring one bit about protocol or how the judge was immediately calling for order. Steve leapt over the divider and Summer jumped over it as best as she could, both of them rushing to Bucky despite how security forces were already converging on both Bucky and the prosecutor.

Summer thought the worst. She had no idea what had just happened or what was still happening, and for all she knew, Bucky wasn't merely unconscious but _gone_. Nothing could keep her away from him.

But despite her best efforts, two security guards grabbed her and restrained her before she could reach him. The judge was still yelling to no avail, and Steve had managed to gently grab Bucky and set him leaning back in his seat to check on him right when a team of paramedics came flooding in through the door, apparently on standby. When they took over and began an initial and quick examination, Steve rounded on Strong and asked him with absolutely _murderous_ eyes, "What did you do to him?"

Two cops were on either side of Strong, keeping an eye on him but not moving to restrain him though nobody seemed to understand what he had done to to Bucky. "I used an old shutdown code in order to illustrate -"

Steve took a few more steps forward and _loomed_ over the shorter man. "Are you HYDRA? How did you know what that word would do to him?"

"Step back, _Rogers_," Strong replied harshly. "We received a lot of information on Barnes from one of his former handlers, including that shutdown code."

Steve glared at the man, suddenly knowing full well at that moment who was responsible for this.

Meanwhile, Bucky was being loaded on to a stretcher and was still completely out. Summer was yelling questions at the medics and they were ignoring her, and two officers continued to hold her back until Natasha came to her aid and told the men to back off, and that she would take care of Summer.

"Come on," Natasha said, taking Summer's arm and leading her back into the gallery. When Summer fought her, Natasha grabbed her other arm and forced her to look at her. "Summer. Listen to me. He's fine. He's not dead, he's knocked out. You need to get yourself under control and get back in the gallery."

"But he's - where are they taking him?!" Summer asked somewhat hysterically as the medics began to quickly transport Bucky out of the room.

"I'll go with him," Steve said. "I'll make sure he gets to the medical wing at the Avengers facility."

"I'll come too," came Foggy's voice from Summer's right side. "If what he did has any lasting effect on Barnes at all, we can make them burn for this."

"I need to come too," Summer said.

"You two go," Natasha told Steve and Foggy. "We'll be right behind you."

Now that Bucky was out of the courtroom and some of the chaos was dying down, Summer gave in and let Natasha lead her back to the gallery. Strong and Matt were both standing, the latter stunned by events and quickly finding Summer once the judge called for five minutes for the court to get itself together so that he could properly take stock of things after.

"Go be with him," Matt told her. "I'll take care of this."

"Was that even legal?" Summer asked, her heart still racing out of control. "Can they get away with that?!"

"No," Matt assured her. "It could be grounds for a mistrial. I'll call you once I know something."

"Okay," Summer replied, thanking him before taking off with Natasha. Wanda headed out with them as well, and as soon as they cleared the doors of the courthouse, the press was on them like wild animals.

Despite Foggy and Steve's best efforts, the press had caught a glimpse of Bucky being loaded into the waiting ambulance and now speculation was running wild as to what had happened in the courtroom. Even with two Avengers at her side, Summer still had microphones shoved in her face and questions all but screamed at her, and it took all of her self control to not lose her mind and scream at them to back off.

Once they were all successfully in Natasha's car and safe from the cameras and the reporters, Summer let out a breath and looked down at her lap to find her hands shaking almost violently. Natasha quickly got the car into gear and sped away, glancing over at Summer when it was safe and saying, "Try to calm down. He's going to be fine."

"But how did they do that? I don't understand," Summer asked desperately. "How can one word do that?"

Nat shook her head. "There's a lot of ways to control someone. I've never seen one word shut someone down but it doesn't surprise me."

"What if it did more than that?" Summer asked, voice bordering on hysterical again. "What if he doesn't wake up?"

"He'll wake up," Natasha replied confidently. "It wasn't a kill code."

"Why would that man do this?" Wanda asked from the backseat. "He just proved his own arguments wrong. He proved HYDRA's control over Bucky."

"I think he was aiming for something else," Natasha said. "He also just proved that Bucky's still dangerous in ways that none of us might even know. If that code was buried in his brain somewhere, who knows what else might be. It's about fear. Dirty trick, but effective."

Summer dropped her face into her hands. _One thing at a time_, she told herself, deciding that once she knew that Bucky was okay and she could see it with her own eyes, _then_ she'd freak out about everything else.

* * *

With Natasha and her extremely high clearance aiding her, Summer got to go back to medical wing of the Avengers facility immediately upon arrival. Wanda stayed with them, and the very moment that the correct room number came into view, Summer basically threw all of her body weight against the door and flung it open.

Inside the room was Steve, Foggy, two doctors and one nurse, and a still-unconscious Bucky lying on a standard issue hospital bed. His suit jacket was off but he was still in his own clothes, and Steve was at Summer's side as soon as he saw her come in.

"Hey," Steve said quietly, comfortingly touching her arm.

"Is he okay? Is he -"

"He's fine," Steve assured her. "Vitals are fine, all the numbers are fine. He just needs to wake up, that's all."

"_Is he _going to wake up?" Summer asked, directing her question to the doctor rather than Steve.

"He'll be fine," the doctor assured her without sparing her a glance, prying open Bucky's eyelid to check his pupils. "Seems whatever code that was activated was strictly meant to literally shut him down. I imagine his handlers would have used it in the event of him becoming too violent for them to handle. Safety measure."

"Can't believe that bastard did this," Foggy muttered, shaking his head. "Not only was it _beyond_ unethical, but he could be disbarred for a stunt like that."

"Matt said something about a mistrial," Natasha said, and Foggy nodded.

"If this isn't grounds for that, I don't know what is. It would be a stall at best, but..."

All the words and all the talk and movements becoming nothing but noise to her, Summer hugged her arms to herself and stayed as close to the bed as the doctors would allow. They did their work for awhile longer, checking a few more things and keeping close eyes on the monitors before deciding that all there was left to do now was wait. They left the room and before the door had even closed behind them, Steve was there next to Summer carrying a chair that he set down at Bucky's bedside for her. She gave him a grateful, sad smile and sunk down into the chair, suddenly feeling like she'd been hit by a truck.

Bucky stayed out for several hours. During that time, Matt called Foggy to tell him that the motion for a mistrial had been denied but that Richard Strong had been removed from the case and was being held in criminal contempt. One of the other lawyers on the prosecution's team would be taking over, and the judge had instructed the jury to not allow what had occurred to influence their judgments one way or the other. Whether they'd follow that instruction or not remained to be seen.

Summer's phone rang off the hook. Paul called her in hysterics after having seen the news talking about chaos in the courtroom and the defendant being removed from the premises in an ambulance, and Summer did her best to assure him that everything was fine while still trying to convince herself of the same thing.

At one point after hanging up with him, Summer overheard Steve telling Natasha something that utterly _infuriated_ her.

"Strong got the info from Rumlow," Steve muttered. "It makes sense."

Summer turned her head and stared at Steve with suddenly furious eyes. "Brock Rumlow? The same guy who blew up my house and got Bucky arrested in the first place? _He_ did this?"

Steve frowned and nodded. Foggy then added, "He's on the prosecution's witness list."

"That should be a fun day in court," Natasha sighed.

Summer bit her anger back and turned back to Bucky, leaning forward and placing her palm on the back of his hand. She looked at his face, so deceptively peaceful at the moment, and she wished that she wasn't so powerless. He had all these enemies _everywhere_ \- in the government, in federal prison, on the street in the form of protestors who wanted him to be executed for treason - and all it took was one word to shut him down and remind him that even after all this time, HYDRA still had its tentacles wrapped around him. And what could she do about it? _Nothing_.

Her sad and angry thoughts were briefly interrupted by Wanda appearing at her side, handing her a cup of coffee from one of the nearby lounges. Natasha and Foggy had left the room by then, leaving just Summer, Steve, and herself.

"Oh, thank you," Summer said, gratefully accepting the cup. "You can go if you want, you know. You don't have to stay if you don't want to."

Wanda merely shook her head, putting a friendly hand on Summer's shoulder before replying, "This is what family's for. Right?"

Summer smiled, the other woman's words briefly replacing the cold anger inside of her with warmth. "Yeah. Thank you."

Wanda smiled back before heading back to where Steve was keeping watch, near the door. He was fielding phone calls and pacing a lot, even more agitated than Summer was, and all in all, the day had been hell on everyone.

All Summer wanted was for Bucky to wake up and open his eyes so that she could see them again. Each moment that passed fueled her worries that he might not wake at all, and when three hours had passed with still nothing, she was considering finding the doctor and asking for a shot of Xanax before she had a meltdown.

But then, just as she was praying for the thousandth time for him to wake, his fingers twitched beneath hers. Her head shot up and her eyes shot open, her gaze rapidly moving up and down his form in a sudden burst of hope.

"Bucky?" she said softly, squeezing his hand and then gently rubbing it. When she saw his eyes begin to move underneath their lids, she smiled and then told the two others present to come and see. Steve came to the other side of Bucky's bed while Wanda left to get the doctor.

It took a few more minutes of twitching and slight shifting, but _finally_ his eyes began to flutter open. Wanda had returned with the doctor by then, and as Bucky blinked and his eyes slowly began to focus on the ceiling, Summer called his name soothingly and told him that everything was fine and that he was safe.

"Hello there, Mr. Barnes," the doctor said cheerfully as he approached the side of the bed that Steve was sitting near. "Glad to see you back with us."

Furrowing his brows slightly and staring a bit blankly, Bucky began to sit up. Summer removed her hand for the time being, and the doctor went on, "Take it easy there, soldier. You've been through an ordeal. Can you tell me what your name is?"

Bucky stared at the man, not saying a word.

"Bucky," Summer said softly, "are you okay?"

He turned his head slowly and stared at her as if he had never seen her before in his life. Right then, she knew deep down that something was very, _very_ wrong.

* * *

When Bucky first opened his eyes, all he saw was light. Unnaturally harsh fluorescent light. Familiar light. The sort of light that he was used to awakening to. Or at least that was what he thought.

He stared at the ceiling at first, feeling nothing and thinking nothing. Then he heard voices. They weren't familiar like the light, and they were speaking English. He couldn't follow their patterns of speech at first, still too disoriented and confused to grasp very much.

There was a pressure on his right hand. It was warm and soft, and... it was another hand, he realized. That was strange.

All of this was strange.

He sat up in the bed, looking around and seeing nothing but faces he'd never seen before. An old man, a girl with long brown hair, a tall blond man, and a woman with black hair who was the one holding his hand.

The old man was a doctor. He asked for his name. Bucky couldn't answer, because he didn't have a name. He'd never had one. Didn't the old man know that? Why didn't he know that?

Who _were_ these people?

Then the woman with the darkest hair spoke to him. Called him something strange - _Bucky_ \- and he looked at her in confusion. The longer that he stared at her, the more pale her face became and the more frightened she looked.

Then the blond man spoke, and that changed everything.

"Bucky," he said softly, "you're here at the Avengers building. You're safe. Everything's okay."

He turned his blank gaze to _him_ next, and that was when he finally understood. He knew that man. He knew his face. He knew -

_Two targets, level six_.

He was one half of his mission. And judging by his surroundings, Bucky had been captured. These were his enemies, and it was his mission to kill the blond man at any cost.

The woman with the black hair touched his hand again. He didn't even look at her as he swung out his right arm her way, slamming her in the chest and sending her flying across the room. She let out a shocked cry and then slammed into a glass cabinet on the wall, shattering the cabinet's windows before she then hit the floor. Then everything was chaos.

"Bucky, no," the blond man yelled frantically. "Stop, what are you - Wanda, cover her -"

He shoved the old man away in much the same fashion, and then he ripped the IV out of his arm and all but jumped out of bed, heading straight for his target who held up his hands and immediately began to retreat.

"Bucky, listen to me," the target pleaded, "you know me. You know all of us. That woman you just threw is your _wife_."

Preposterous. He had no wife. He had no name. All he had was his mission, and his mission was all that mattered.

He lunged for the man once he had him backed into a wall. He landed one solid punch to the man's face and was gearing up for a second when suddenly his fist was frozen in the air. In fact, his entire body was frozen and he couldn't make it move a single inch.

He stared at his fist in confusion. It, and the rest of him, was enveloped in a deep red and unnatural glow, as if a sort of energy was keeping him completely immobile. He growled and tried to fight it, trying harder and harder until he was putting all of his considerable might into the struggle to simply move. But he couldn't.

What the hell was happening to him?

* * *

Bleeding, in pain, and absolutely heartbroken and terrified, Summer felt hands helping her to sit up as she watched Bucky - no, that wasn't Bucky, that was the Winter Soldier - lunge at Steve. The hands belonged to Natasha, who had just rushed inside the room and was now half-dragging Summer to the corner furthest from Bucky.

"Are you okay?" Nat asked quickly, and Summer shook her head.

"No, he's - he's not - I think he's -"

"I know," Natasha said just as Steve grunted with pain. Bucky had backed him into a corner and punched him in the face. "Wanda, stop him."

As Natasha covered Summer, just like Bucky would have wanted her to in this kind of situation, Wanda sprang into action. Bracing herself, she thrust out her hands and froze Bucky in place with her power, his fist in mid-swing and his eyes unfocused and _empty_.

Summer was bleeding from her forehead and her lower back was throbbing in pain along with one of her shoulders and a knee that she'd landed badly on, but she barely felt any of it. Adrenaline numbed her and utter panic stopped her from focusing on anything but the fact that her Bucky was gone and an emotionless killing machine was in his place.

"How long can you hold him?" Steve asked Wanda, getting away from the wall and not taking his eyes off of his best friend.

"I'm not sure," Wanda replied. "But I can try to bring him back."

"How?" Summer asked desperately, barely aware of how she was crying as she asked this.

"_Can_ you do that?" Steve asked her cautiously.

"I can try," Wanda said, shifting her hands and curling her fingers to maintain her control over him. "I can look in his mind, try to pull him out from this."

Steve looked at Summer, unwilling to give the okay to anything without her input. She replied by all but screaming, "Do it! Do _something_!"

Steve nodded, and then Wanda lifted her hand and in doing so lifted Bucky off of his feet as he continued to try to fight and struggle against her. She then pushed her hand out and he was flung backwards, landing on his back in the hospital bed almost hard enough to collapse it. It wasn't gentle, but there were bigger things to worry about than that.

Natasha helped Summer up and moved her towards Steve, who was in front of the bed but at a safe distance away from it. He looked at Summer and grimaced at the blood trickling down from her forehead, but then he turned back to what was happening in front of him and quickly stepped back into action. At Wanda's request, he used the restraints on the bed to strap Bucky to it, and they would likely hold him for awhile because they were reinforced for enhanced individuals. Once that was done, Wanda's power withdrew and Bucky was able to move again, but only in the form of continued struggling and wordless growling.

"Wanda," Steve said gravely, looking at Wanda who looked more than a little apprehensive and unsure, "you don't have to do this if you don't want to."

But Wanda merely gave him a look and jerked her head towards Summer. "Cover her, in case he breaks free and this doesn't work."

Steve nodded then, and the time for debate was over. He went back to Summer's side, and Wanda looked into Bucky's wild, murderous eyes and stood over him as she read his mind. What she found was nothing - absolutely nothing aside from a singular focus and desire to finish his mission so overwhelming that it was almost like a compulsion. There was fear there too, a lot of it, and she found that he was as terrified as he was dangerous. He thought that he was still with HYDRA, that he had been captured by the enemy, and that his mission was to kill Steve. He had reverted back to his most recent programming, his last mission before he had broke HYDRA's conditioning.

Wanda took a deep breath and opened her eyes, hesitating only a moment before raising one hand and sending little winding tendrils of energy from her fingertips to his temple. His eyes became as scarlet as hers at the contact, and he stopped struggling. In fact, he stopped moving at all and stared at the ceiling without seeing it, his breathing calming slightly before Wanda closed her eyes and leaned on one rail of the bed for support before moving beyond the first barrier of his mind into the depths below. She had never done this before and she could only hope that it would work and not simply make things worse.

Summer watched helplessly in a state of fear and almost crazed hope. The fact that an old HYDRA keyword had made Bucky revert back to this and now his chance at remembering again was having his mind invaded and tinkered with by one of their friends - how had it even come to this?

She thought about the kids waiting back at home with Paul before she immediately made herself think about _anything_ else. She couldn't think about what would happen to them if this didn't work, or what would happen legally if Bucky stayed like this. His chance at freedom would be gone, and everything would be over.

She watched and waited, not tearing her eyes from Bucky once as Wanda did her very best to bring him back.

* * *

He saw red. Everything was red, and the fight that he had been filled to the brim moments earlier was gone. Something else was in control - _someone_ else - and he could _feel_ her. He could feel her in his head and gently moving about his mind as if such a thing was even possible, and through it all he was powerless. All he could do was lay there and watch and feel what happened next.

Wanda, for her part, felt as if she was grasping at smoke. Finding the real him behind the walls of resurgent HYDRA programming and self-preserving defenses was almost impossible but at the same time a bit encouraging. He was actively fighting her in every way that he could, pushing back every time that she pulled, and yet he wasn't even aware of it. His constant fighting against someone trying to get in his head and possibly control it wasn't a characteristic of the Winter Soldier but of Bucky himself, and she knew that if she reached deeply enough into his subconscious, she would find him there. And she was right.

It took time and patience, but finally she was able to grasp on a real memory and hold on to it tightly enough before it faded. It was just a flash, a memory of the closest thing to a constant that Bucky had ever had, and when the image bloomed behind Bucky's eyes so vividly and clear that it shocked him, it cracked the walls and got through to him.

It was Steve's face, from decades and decades go. Skinny and pale and perpetually sickly, and the most familiar thing in the world when nothing else was.

He was his mission. But he wasn't. He was more than that. He had a name, one that he'd known since before he had known his multiplication tables. He had been there, always been there for him, until one day he wasn't anymore...

Wanda pulled on that thread, and as it turned out, Steve was the skeleton key that unlocked far more than she had bargained for. Without a single warning, the protective walls crumbled and an entire lifetime's worth of memories came flooding back not only into his mind, but hers as well. She couldn't untangle her mind from his or stop was what was about to happen.

The first time he had broken HYDRA's programming, he had done so on his own and had regained his memories slowly over a period of _years_. Even then, there were still significant holes in his memory, gaps he couldn't fill, and he had expected that to never change. But with Wanda's power flooding through his head and her mind accidentally linking and meshing with his, this time it was far more sudden and complete. _Everything_ unlocked and came back to him - the good, the bad, and the unthinkably horrific.

His entire life flashed through both his mind and Wanda's mind, starting in Brooklyn and running through the mostly happy memories there. He saw his parents more clearly than ever before, his sweet little sister and the little apartment they had all survived the Depression in together. There was laughing and crying and ups and downs, a normal but mostly happy life despite poverty and hardships. Then, one day at school, there was also Steve, and the memories kept coming.

He grew up. He went to war. He left Steve behind. He fought for his country, had his innocence ripped to shreds the first time he killed an enemy soldier and watched his friends die next to him in a foxhole they were taking cover in. The memories weren't just sights and sounds but _smells_ too, mostly the smell of dirt and gunpowder and blood and death. Wanda experienced it all from his firsthand perspective, living the memories for the first time as much as he was reliving them.

Everything he felt, she felt too. She felt his love and commitment to not only protecting Steve but making sure he never had to face the world alone. She felt his longing and his conflicted but true love for a woman with red hair and green eyes who sang like an angel, someone else he'd left behind when he went to war. She felt his fear and dread when he and his unit was captured and taken to a HYDRA work camp in Austria.

Bucky relived every last miserable moment of what he experienced during his first encounter with HYDRA, though in real time it only lasted seconds. He relived being worked to death, beaten when a virus he caught from one of the other POWs left him too weak to work, and then being reassigned to the lab run by Arnim Zola. That was where the real torture began. Soldiers were trained and expected to take beatings and endure worse, but being injected repeatedly with something that made his veins burn like fire and made his muscles feel like they were being torn apart and stitched back together under _aching_ skin over and over... _nobody_ was trained to handle that.

That was when Wanda's own memories started colliding with his. For a moment he was looking through his eyes at a very different life, one that was also familiar with poverty and the kind of love that only a family could bring. But he didn't see any of that at first. Instead he saw cages made of bulletproof glass, heard the screams of people trapped inside of them as their bodies warped and minds _melted_ from the effects of alien radiation. Then it was him - no, _Wanda_ \- in one of those cages, huddled in the corner and shaking in terrible, mind-numbing pain. He looked down and saw trembling, pale hands glowing scarlet, and they _burned_. The fire crawled along every inch of Wanda's skin and finally became too much to bear, and when she screamed with agony, a flash of red exploded within the glass walls.

* * *

"She's crying," Steve muttered, watching and ready to intervene and stop Wanda's intervention if it began to appear dangerous.

Natasha watched just as carefully. "I hope she knows what she's doing."

Wanda was still standing over Bucky, though not long after she had begun, she had leaned closer and put her hand directly on the top of his head rather than hold her fingers near his temple. Her eyes were closed and his were wide open, still unnaturally glowing red and completely unseeing. Wanda was indeed in tears, crying quietly and steadily for the last moment or so.

Summer wasn't sure that she had ever prayed so hard in her life as she did in those moments.

Sam then quietly entered the room, watching what was happening with an appropriately bewildered expression. He didn't come alone - Vision was there too, slowly walking inside and coming to a halt next to Summer when he saw what was happening.

He looked incredibly worried as he asked anyone who would answer, "What is she doing?"

"He reverted back to his old HYDRA programming," Natasha replied. "Wasn't his fault. She said she wanted to try to bring him back."

"Bring him back?" Vision repeated, looking at Steve and Natasha in a way that didn't bring them much comfort.

"I'm gonna stop it if this gets out of control," Steve tried to assure him, but Vision merely shook his head.

"No. You have to let her finish. Let them both finish," he said quietly. "If you interrupted, there's no way to know what sort of state either of their minds would be left in."

Summer breathed in shakily and tried to keep holding it together. _Dear God _she couldn't take much more of this.

* * *

_Falling_. He was falling for _ages, _down_, _down_, down _with no end in sight. A few seconds of terror and trying to reach for his best friend's hand was all that he had before the bar he'd been hanging on broke and sent him falling to his death. And now, unlike before, he was able to remember every last terrifying second of it.

He didn't want to die, not like this. He wasn't done yet. He was too young and he had survived too much to die now, like this, he couldn't, he...

_He was_.

He hit the ground on his left side, bones snapping like twigs and world going dark before the full extent of the pain could even register. That snowy ravine would have been his eternal grave if not for Zola's work, if not for that unwanted gift that he didn't know had bound itself to his DNA and helped keep his heart from stopping as he laid there bleeding in the snow. Nothing else could have kept him alive but unconscious for three days, until a few Soviet soldiers found him during a routine patrol.

Then, to his horror, all the memories that a part of him was glad he'd never fully recovered were the next to come rushing back. He was forced to live through it all again, remember every last bit of agony that he had endured against his will for the sake of his metal arm. His journey to becoming the Winter Soldier had begun with a surgery, and it was one that he had been awake for the _entire_ time.

Before there had been flashes. He had known that they'd kept him awake for at least a portion of it, but now... now...

_Oh God_.

They injected him with a paralytic and _only_ a paralytic before getting to work removing what was left of his own left arm. They cut it away with a bone saw, doctors and nurses speaking a language he couldn't understand, while he was forced to lay still and feel _every last_ agonizing moment of it. And he couldn't even scream.

He was still Bucky Barnes. He wasn't their soldier yet. He was himself, he remembered his life, and he was terrified and he wanted to die on that table more than anything he had ever wanted before. He prayed for death, screamed for it in his head, and yet relief never came. And the removal of the arm was only the first step of the operation.

He smelled his own skin burning when they attached not the arm but the metal socket that the arm would be attached to, fused it to his skin and bones and made it a part of him. They burned him, they cut him, and they kept him awake so they could test for nerve function until the surgery was complete.

They were monsters, and nobody was coming to save him from them. He was dead to everybody he knew, because _nobody_ could have survived that fall, and yet he had. He wondered what he had ever done in his life that was so bad and so unforgivable as to be worthy of a punishment like this.

_Just let me die_, he pleaded with God over and over again, begging for forgiveness for whatever he had done that had warranted _this_ to happen to him. He was sorry for everything, for killing those enemy soldiers who barely fit their uniforms for how young they were, for leaving Steve behind and not being a better son to his poor mama who was grieving his death now. He was sorry for all the times he'd picked on his sister, for every broken heart he'd caused since he woke up one day and realized how much he liked girls, and he was sorry for that time he stole some groceries from a corner store because he was broke and Steve hadn't eaten in _two days_.

He'd take whatever judgement was coming, whatever was fair, even if it was hell. He'd take hell over this, he'd burn and he'd do his time and he wouldn't question it because at least it wouldn't be _this_.

Unless this _was_ hell. Unless he had died in that ravine after all, and _this_ was the sum of all of his sins that he would spend the rest of eternity paying back.

* * *

Wanda's legs gave out. Steve jumped to go to her, but Vision held out an arm and kept him back. "Don't. _Nobody_ touch her."

Steve looked at the others helplessly. Summer was crying quietly but constantly, in a steady river down her cheeks. Wanda was now slumped over the bed, one hand still on Bucky's head and the other holding his shirt in a white-knuckled fist. She looked like she was seconds from spinning out of control, and Bucky... _he_ was crying now, too.

Then he screamed. It was a blood-curdling, throat-ripping scream that made every other person in the room jump and most of them gasp.

Whatever blood was left in Summer's face drained immediately. Even during his nightmares, his worst nightmares, he'd never screamed like _that_. He sounded like he was being ripped limb from limb, and... _oh God, what if he was_?

Wanda held on to him tighter, a sob leaving her own throat before her power pulsed and then the screaming stopped. She had steered his mind somewhere new, to a far less traumatic and hellish memory, to one of her own.

* * *

_Pietro, stop! I'm gonna tell!_

_Try and catch me, little sister!_

Childish laughter and a boy with a headful of dark waves flooded Bucky's staggering mind, giving it a bit of relief. This memory was warm and sweet, vivid and cherished, just one of many happy days from Wanda's childhood. It was a commonplace theme - Pietro would tease her and sometimes torture her a bit, as all brothers do, and then he'd run off and leave her with just her wits to find a way to triumph in whatever game was afoot. It was no wonder then that one day the scepter would unlock what powers it did in the twins. He had been running since he could walk, and her mind had always been her sharpest weapon.

They were two halves of a whole and as close as two siblings could be. They fought and they schemed against each other and Pietro _always_ stole Wanda's candy from her, but they were inseparable.

The happy memories turned dark then as Bucky caught a glimpse of the day their parents had died. He watched the shell collapse their home and kill the elder Maximoffs, felt the terror and the disbelief and the lost innocence that Wanda had endured. And then, waiting trapped under the rubble with her brother for days while they waited for the undetonated shell emblazoned with the name _Stark_ to kill them... he felt and saw it all.

He felt the rage and the hatred that has festered within her from that day on, the unquenchable thirst for revenge against the man whose weapons had taken her parents and nearly killed herself and her twin too. The drive for justice and for becoming more than just another pair of sad, poverty-stricken orphans had eventually steered them right into the open arms of HYDRA.

That was when the push and pull of their minds landed back on his own memories. HYDRA, that parasite on the whole world and his own personal circle of hell, dominated his every thought and every move and his entire identity, or the lack thereof, for the next seventy years following his surgery. His path to becoming their strongest weapon was long, much longer than he had known before.

Soviet Russia served as the interlude between his service to the United States and his service to HYDRA. They didn't like HYDRA, and like Hitler himself, thought the Red Skull to be little more than a raving lunatic and his beliefs utterly laughable. They foresaw the post-war world before it arrived and took steps to ensure its place within it. They were allied with the Brits and Americans against the Axis, yes, but as soon as that common enemy was defeated, the chess pieces would shift and an entirely new war would be at hand. But this one would not be fought with guns or soldiers. At least not in the conventional sense.

One man with the right skills at the right place at the right time could be more effective than an army, the best Soviet thinkers contended. That was the very foundation of the Winter Soldier Project, and it was a lengthy one.

They broke their American prisoner down the conventional way, not even letting him recover fully from his fall and his surgery before they began. They threw him in a filthy cell that even the rats didn't want to live in, and they used every kind of torture to see him break. They needed him loyal to Russia to be of use to them, and to make him that way, they had to purge his identity from every corner of his mind.

But they never did. Through every cruelty, through every beating and every method of conditioning and torture that they inflicted upon him, he never turned. He desperately wanted to die, and living with the horrific, huge piece of metal that was supposed to be his arm was unbearable, but he still never gave in, even when it would have been so incredibly easy to just lie and go along with it to make the pain end.

But the pain was _always_ there. He felt it even when they weren't beating him or feeding him the vilest of substances, or peeling off his fingernails one at a time. His left arm ached as if it was still there, as he was still laying in the snow with it still barely attached, or even worse, laying on that operating table again.

He knew what was happening to him and what they wanted. They wanted to take him and make him into a weapon, someone who would fight for everything he had spent his life fighting _against_, and he'd die before he let that happen. So he tried, more than once, to die. And it never worked. Whatever Zola had given him made him heal no matter what happened to him.

When he gave up all hope for death, he also began to feel himself slipping away. Some days he'd wake up in that cell, rotting in filth and blood and listening to the guards outside laugh and gorge themselves on food, and it would take him an hour to remember his own name. It would take even longer to remember Steve's. And then he'd spend hours trying to remember what color Vivian's hair was.

And so, to make sure he'd never forget again, one day he found a tiny, jagged rock in one of the cracks of the cell floor. He picked it up with his hideous, revolting metal hand and then used it to carve out names and words on his right arm to serve as reminders when he would need them most.

He carved out his name, his rank, his serial number, the city he was born in, and the names of his parents. His sister's name. Steve's name. Vivian's name. Her eye color, her hair color.

When he was almost out of room, he cut one last sentence into his arm that he tried to hold on to at his darkest hours. He wrote it as a sort of punishment to himself as much as for his memory, because nothing broke his heart more than thinking about those words.

_I'm with you to the end of the line_. His promise to Steve after Sarah had died, now nothing more than a joke. He hadn't been with Steve to the end. _This_ was the end, and he was alone. And according to the Russians, Steve was dead after crashing the Red Skull's Valkyrie into the ice, to spare thousands of American lives.

He had broken his promise. He wasn't with Steve in the end, and yet he himself was still alive. It wasn't fair. None of it was fair. He just wanted to die and _finally_ make it to the end of his own line.

When the guards found him bloody and still clutching the rock that he'd used as a poor substitute for a tattoo needle, they laughed before beating him mercilessly. He prayed that they wouldn't stop, but as always, they did. They always did. And he always healed.

He spent a week reading the words on his arm and memorizing them like a prayer before everything changed. The guards woke him from a fitful sleep and dragged him into a room he'd never seen before. It looked like a lab of sorts, and at the center was some kind of contraption of a chair. And that chair was apparently his destination.

Weak, starving, mentally dead and physically not much better, he was shoved into the chair and then restrained to it. He no longer cared what they did to him or how they hurt him, but fear began to trickle low into his gut when one of his usual tormentors approached and began to speak to him in English with a sick smile.

_You will not break,_ he said. _After all that you have endured, you still will not break. Admirable, really. This... sense of loyalty will be useful in the future. You see... we've found a much more effective and less time consuming way of persuading you to join our cause. Much more civilized than the barbaric treatment you've been enduring._

That was all the warning he got before the new procedure began. Terrified, shaking, and repeating the words on his arm to himself over and over, begging himself to not forget no matter what happened next, the restraints tightened and a halo-like piece of the machine lowered down and clamped on his head and...

* * *

Bucky screamed again. This time, he struggled against his restraints on the bed and screamed not just with sounds but words. Words like _no_ and _please_ came out in a heart-wrenching cry that made Summer cover her face and turn around, unable to look any longer.

Wanda screamed this time too. Steve looked at Vision with huge, scared eyes, clearly panicking at this point. "We have to do something!"

"Wait," Vision urged him quietly. "You do not understand what you are seeing."

"What the hell _are_ we seeing?" Sam asked.

Turning and looking at the two Avengers in question, Vision replied, "I believe that she is deep within his mind, and he in hers. He is feeling what she has felt, and she is feeling what he has felt. They are sharing memories, emotions... their lives."

Summer forced herself to turn around, opening her eyes and dragging her hands under her eyes to try to wipe away some of the tears. "They're... _what_? What does that mean?"

"It means we have to wait," Vision replied simply. "She is stronger than she knows. I don't think she ever intended for this to happen, but she will end it when the time is right.

Natasha let out a long sigh. "I hope you're right."

"So do I," Vision replied.

* * *

Bucky forgot. He forgot _everything_. His right arm healed without a single lasting scar, all of those words disappearing as if they had never been there at all, and he finally became the Soviet Union's Winter Soldier.

With no identity, no memory, and no moral awareness or compass, it was all too easy for his handlers to train him into a living, breathing lethal weapon. They indoctrinated him, taught him how to speak flawless Russian and multiple other language, and trained him in countless styles of combat. It took time, but he soaked it all up like a sponge; he had a natural talent for it all, the languages and hand to hand combat and sharpshooting, everything that would make him the best assassin that the world had ever seen.

But they found one flaw in their elegant new killing machine. Given enough time, he would start to ask too many questions. He would remember things - small things, but things nonetheless. The damage done to his brain from the chair would eventually heal and memories would start to resurface. This left his handlers with few options.

They couldn't use him how they would have preferred, but they could have the next best thing. They froze their weapon when he wasn't needed, and then when he was, they would thaw him and give him his mission. After he completed it, if he needed another memory wipe, they would administer it. If not, he would be placed back into cryo-stasis until he was needed again.

And that was his life for the next seven decades. His handlers changed, the missions changed, and eventually his Russian comrades became American ones after the fall of the USSR. They sold their relic of an assassin to the highest bidder, the American hand of HYDRA, though what many of those Russians didn't understand was that in reality, HYDRA had never let go of Bucky. They had their tentacles everywhere, including the Kremlin and the KGB and the nameless, "nonexistent" department that had facilitated the Winter Soldier Project. It was merely a logistical transfer to move him to the United States. They'd had him all along.

He killed... so, _so_ many. Even with all of the memories in his grasp, he couldn't count them. He killed good men, bad men, women of both sorts, and innocent children. _One_ innocent child.

Rather than serve his sentence in hell like he had once thought he was doing, he wracked up more sins and reasons to burn. But he never did. Instead he froze, he thawed, he killed, and then he froze again. It was an endless, mindless cycle, but it did finally break one day. And it broke with the utterance of the same phrase that he had once carved out on his arm in haphazard strokes of a rock.

Steve had brought him back. Steve, who had been there before and was still there now, Steve who had _not_ died in the ice, Steve who really would be with him to the end of the line. He hadn't given up on Bucky, even when Bucky had nearly killed him twice.

And because of that, because of Steve and his faith, Bucky had found himself again. For the first time since his fall in 1945, he finally broke free of HYDRA.

He also found love. He found a woman who did _not_ love him at first sight, but who took him in and cared for him when few others would have even considered doing such a thing. He also found a little boy, her little boy, who was different and very quiet but who also slowly grew attached to him and would wrap aluminum foil around his arm to imitate the metal arm that Bucky so hated. The little family took him in and accepted him for what he was and gave him shelter and real human contact when all of those things were so very foreign to him.

Summer brought him to life and made him feel like a real flesh and blood man again with a kiss. Then she brought him back to Steve so that he could start his recovery, and that was the start of his new life as a free man.

He had found a family with both her and with Steve and his new friends. Natasha, Sam, Clint, even Tony despite their complicated history - they let him in, and in time, he also let them in. He fell in love with Summer, became a father to her son, and he and Steve became best friends again. Slowly, he got better. Slowly, he found purpose again.

He had a family again.

But then, thanks to that word - _family_ \- the brief calm in his mind was shattered by a sudden pulse of pain that he felt in his very soul. It wasn't his own pain that he felt, but the pain of a girl who had lost her last remaining family to a monster that she had once worked for.

He could see through her eyes again, and this time he saw metal. There was metal _everywhere_. While he had been in New York helping Summer recover from being hit by a car, across the globe, Wanda was fighting off robots bent on world destruction. It was something out of a science fiction movie but it was real, and she was fighting for her country. She had seen the error of her ways and, after having come to a crossroads, decided to take Clint's advice and _fight_.

She had been prepared to die. She was anything but stupid, and the city was _flying_. She knew that death might come, and if it did, she would go down fighting and protecting her home. She made peace with that possibility the moment she decided to stop hiding and start fighting.

But then, as she fought standing in the middle of a church, keeping Ultron from sending the city plummeting back down to the earth, she sensed something. She felt it the same way that she could feel the cool air on her skin and and the breath in her lungs - she felt him, her brother, her twin, breathing his last breath as his life was extinguished.

It was unmistakable. She felt like she had been ripped in half, like the second half of her had just been torn away and now she was left open and bleeding and _dying_. He was gone, her brother was gone, and so was a part of her that she'd never get back.

Her scream ripped through Bucky's head along with that horrible, heavy pain that had manifested in a great burst of power that had shot out and demolished what surrounded her, as well as accidentally trigger the core that nearly destroyed all of Sokovia. He felt her pain and her horror, that eternal grief that would fade with time but never leave, and her sense of being left completely alone in a world that she didn't belong in. _Anywhere_.

She was young, but she knew pain. He was older, too old to be as young as he was, and he knew even more pain. And now they knew each other's pain in ways that they would never forget. In the span of minutes, they had lived the other's lives, and Wanda had given him the gift - and the curse - of restoring his entire memory.

Wanda finally let go of him, her power evaporating into scarlet wisps all around her as she gasped and collapsed. Rather than hit the floor, she fell into Vision's waiting arms.

Bucky also awoke with a gasp. The red leaving his wet, tear-filled eyes, his breath came in wild pants as he tried to move his arms and legs to no avail. Not completely sure of what had just happened, his mind was a frantic and overwhelmed mess of memories and emotions, not all of which were his. He'd never even met Pietro Maximoff and yet he could see his face as clear as day in his mind, and he was _crying_ over him. But that was only the tip of the iceberg. He felt like he might explode he felt and _thought_ and remembered so much.

"S... Steve," he called out, yanking against the restraints. "Steve, Summer -"

They were both at his side in less than a second, his use of their names a clear sign that their Bucky was back.

"Yeah, Bucky," Steve said first, leaning over him and giving hm a cautious smile. "You okay? Do you know your name?"

He nodded, eyes wide and a sense of panic bubbling up from being restrained and confused. "Yeah, I'm... what happened?"

His eyes went to Summer next as Steve removed the restraints. She was crying, though she looked relieved, and she was... bleeding.

Steve didn't answer him just yet. Bucky sat up, tears still streaming down his face and heart racing and limbs shaking, and the sound of screaming from near the floor next to the bed stole his attention next.

Wanda was in Vision's arms, clutching her head and _wailing_. She was hysterical, sobbing and inconsolable, and in between broken, barely coherent words in her native language, the words _too much_ and _hurts, hurts so much_ kept flying out of her mouth.

She had just relived the worst moments of her life and taken on the unthinkable torture and abuse that Bucky had endured in his long, traumatic life. It really _was_ too much.

Vision picked her up and calmly took her out of the room. Her cries faded after they disappeared outside of the doors, and Bucky stared as she went, his own distress and shock written on his face.

"Bucky?" Summer said quietly, looking a little apprehensive and maybe even... scared of him a bit. "What happened?"

"I remember everything," he muttered. Then he lifted his eyes back up to Summer, who was an utter wreck as she hugged her arms to herself and stared at him with watery, frightened eyes. He glared at the cut on her forehead and the way that Natasha was protectively standing behind her, and then he asked in a shaky voice that didn't even sound like his own, "_What. Happened_?"

Natasha decided to spare the other two and answered him for them. "Strong used a HYDRA shutdown code on you. You woke up and your old programming kicked in. You tried to attack Steve and you threw Summer into a wall."

"I'm fine," Summer assured him when she saw the sudden panic and horror in his eyes. "I am, and Steve's fine too. Wanda stopped you, and then she... she got in your head, and... you remember _everything_?"

Bucky stared at her and then looked away, feeling a deep sense of shame slowly overcome him from the inside out. He closed his eyes and tried to focus, tried to push away the overload of emotions and memories running rampant through his head, making it feel like he was about to burst. It took him a few seconds, but then he remembered. He remembered waking up and being... that _thing_ again, the monster that he had thought he was free of, and he remembered looking his wife in the eye and throwing her into the wall like she was nothing more than a ragdoll. He remembered attacking Steve, thinking that he was his mission and that he had to kill him at all costs.

He remembered feeling and thinking _nothing_. After all this time, after all he had endured - the pain, the hell, the death, all of it - HYDRA _still_ had ways to control him and turn him back into a monster.

He started to shake. What if this had happened at home, while he had been sitting on the couch with the kids? What if someone had used the word Sputnik in a historical context and he had thrown Adelaide into a wall the way that he had Summer?

"Bucky," Summer said softly, a trembling hand going to his shoulder, "it's okay. None of this was your fault."

Bucky shook his aching head, holding it in his hands and mumbling, "_No_. No, _no_..."

Steve, as helpless as a man could possibly be, touched Bucky's other shoulder. "She's right. It's okay. You're back now. We're gonna make sure nobody can ever do that to you again."

_As if they could_.

"Bucky, please, look at me," Summer pled softly, trying to nudge him into lifting up his head, and that was when he snapped.

"_No!_" It came out like a desperate, unhinged roar, and he hadn't meant it to. He jumped off of the bed at the same time, and Summer stumbled back in obvious fear. Natasha quickly stepped in front of her, protecting her, and the rage and confusion that had been etched on Bucky's face faded into something worse.

For the first time since she had known him, Summer was afraid of him. And he couldn't blame her, because he was afraid of himself.

He had hurt her. One of his worst fears had come to fruition, and he stared at her with big, frightened, and shameful eyes that gave away how badly damaged all of this was going to leave him. She stared back with a thousand unspoken words in her gaze, and he couldn't handle looking at her anymore. He couldn't handle looking at _any_ of them anymore.

He turned and all but ran out the door. He didn't plan to go far, just far enough to find somewhere to be alone and fall apart in peace. Summer moved to go after him and called his name, but Natasha held her back.

"Let him go," she told Summer firmly. "We don't know what the hell just happened in his head. He needs space."

Summer's face crumpled and she turned around, the tears flowing anew as Steve watched her with that same helpless, sad expression he had been wearing since this mess had begun. He looked at Natasha and then at Sam, who was still there and had been watching protectively the whole time, and finally he sunk into a chair and dropped his head into his hands.

Natasha put a hand on Summer's shoulder and gently told her, "Come on. You need stitches. And you need to be checked for injuries, just in case."

Summer nodded, wiping her eyes uselessly and letting the other woman lead her out of the room. Sam gave her a reassuring pat on the way out, and Summer gave him a tight watery smile in reply before turning the corner and leaving.

Sam glanced at Steve then and asked, "You okay, man?"

Steve dropped his hands into his lap and shook his head. "Nope."

If there was one thing that was for sure, it was that _nobody_ was okay that day. And chances were that wouldn't change anytime soon.


	60. Chapter 60

**A/N: You guys continue to blow me away with your reviews and how amazing you all are :D you guys are the best and I hope you like this chapter. The drama's not nearly over yet, and I'm excited for the stuff coming on the horizon :D let me know what you guys think, and I'll see you all soon! Thank you so, so much for reading :D (and if anyone would like a break from the drama and read something a bit different from my usual fare, I recently posted a oneshot called ****_Yes Ma'am_**** that might be of interest to some of you guys lol) *giant hugs to each of you***

Summer winced as the surgeon sitting to her left finished up the stitches on the gash in her forehead. She was exhausted and sad and worried and still in immense shock over the day's events, and it wasn't even five in the afternoon yet.

"All done," the surgeon, a woman in her thirties named Dr. Lin said, discarding her gloves and standing after giving Summer a small pat. "I did the best I could, but you might still have a small scar. Shouldn't be too noticeable, though."

Summer nodded, knowing she'd never get lucky enough to walk away without a reminder of what had happened. "Thank you."

"Now, one last thing," the doctor said, reaching into a cabinet and grabbing a small cup that she then handed to Summer. "Just to be safe."

Summer stared at the cup dejectedly before taking it and glancing at Natasha, who was leaning against the wall with her arms crossed and watching over everything. She was the reason why a highly over-qualified surgeon had seen to Summer's stitches instead of a nurse or a less trained doctor. She gave Summer a sympathetic look and said, "You know they have to check."

"I know, I just... I don't even want to think about _that_," Summer sighed, turning the cup over and staring at it. "Because if I _was_ and Bucky accidentally... if what he did..."

"Look," Dr. Lin said comfortingly, "It's just a precaution. No need to get ahead of yourself. Just go ahead and fill it up. Sooner you do, the sooner you can put your mind at ease."

Summer nodded and decided that the doctor was right. She stood up from the exam seat, wincing a bit at the pain in her back as she did, and then she trudged off to the nearest bathroom to do her part for an obligatory pregnancy test. She was pretty sure that she wasn't pregnant, but the chance was there. With how clingy the kids were as of late and the stress of the trial taking its toll, she and Bucky didn't sleep together with nearly the same frequency as before, but it still happened at least once a week. And that was more than enough to make taking a test necessary, to err on the side of caution.

Meanwhile, as Summer prayed that her oven was bun-less, Bucky was holed up in an empty office and sitting against one of its walls with a thousand yard stare. His knees were drawn up and his arms draped over them, his thoughts running wild as his mind tried to adjust to being completely restored.

It was like seeing the world through both brand new and very old eyes. Everything was so clear now - _everything_ \- and it was terrifying and bizarre and overwhelming.

He could remember Rebecca's first words. He remembered her face, her laugh, everything about her so perfectly now, where before her image had always come in mostly fuzzy flashes here and there. He remembered his mother and father. He remembered his first girlfriend, and his second and his third. He remembered it all.

And that meant that he now remembered things that he'd give anything to forget again. Like the surgery. The torture. Each and every last death that he had ever caused.

He closed his eyes and brought his hands to his head. _God_ he just wanted to forget again. He wanted to go back to how it had been before, but he couldn't now. Now he was whole again, and he felt different. He felt like a strange, upside-down and twisted version of himself, like he had been walking around half asleep for five years and was now suddenly awake for the first time.

It just made everything hurt worse. He felt a deeper sense of shame now for every life he had taken and all the pain that he had never meant to cause. He felt like the lowest of the low, like every name and curse that the protestors outside of the courthouse liked to hurl at him were completely true.

And yet somehow the worst thing of all - the thing that he knew he'd never forgive himself for - was hurting the woman he loved.

He knew he hadn't been in his right mind. He had looked her right in the eye and had not recognized her at all. But that didn't matter to him. The details were just that - details that didn't matter, in his opinion. What mattered was that it was by his own hand that Summer had been thrown into a a wall, and there was simply no excuse for that. It made his heart ache to think of what else he could have done had he not been stopped, and how much worse it could have been.

She'd forgive him in a heartbeat, he knew. She probably already had, but somehow that made it even worse. Knowing that later, she would probably hug and kiss him and tell him that it was _fine_ and she was _fine_ and that it hadn't been his fault... _God_, he couldn't stand it. He had an irrational need for someone to yell and scream at him and tell him that it was he _was_ to blame for once, but he knew nobody would do it. He himself was the only one who would provide that service.

Bucky's head shot up when he heard the door to the office slowly creak open. He watched and was unsurprised when Steve's head was the one to pop inside the room, peering in cautiously until he caught sight of Bucky.

"Hey," he said quietly, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. "You okay?"

Bucky shook his head, looking away and staring ahead. "No."

"I know," Steve muttered quietly. He made his way to Bucky and sat down beside him, leaning back against the wall. "I don't know what to say."

Bucky didn't either. After a moment's silence, he asked without looking at Steve, "Is Summer okay?"

"Yeah, she's fine," Steve assured him. "She's with Dr. Lin right now, getting stitched up. She wasn't hurt badly."

"Could have been," Bucky muttered.

"But she wasn't."

Bucky stifled a sigh. "Wanda?"

"I just checked on her," Steve replied. "She's still with Vision. He calmed her down enough for a doctor to look at her. They gave her some kind of mild sedative. Her heart rate was high at first, but she's resting now."

Bucky closed his eyes for a moment, still feeling like Wanda's mind was tangled with his even though the connection had been severed more than an hour ago. He could still feel her emotions, see her memories like they were his own, and it was incredibly unnerving. Especially considering that he was trying to get used to suddenly having all of his _own_ memories back.

"She took a big risk, doing what she did," Steve said. When Bucky didn't answer, Steve looked at him and said quietly, "I thought you were gone."

"I was," he muttered, still staring ahead. "I _was_ gone."

Steve drew a deep breath, looking down and then asking, "You know it's not your fault, right? None of this was your fault."

"Never is," Bucky muttered miserably, giving a small shrug of his shoulder. "Nothing's ever my fault."

Steve looked at him with concern. "Bucky..."

"Just... don't," Bucky said, closing his eyes and dropping his head back against the wall. "I don't wanna hear it."

"But it's the truth," Steve said.

"Doesn't matter. I could have killed everybody in that room. If I had snapped Summer's neck instead of just throwing her, you'd be telling David that I killed his mother right now instead of sitting next to me and trying to make me feel better."

"Doesn't matter," Steve shot back gently. "Because you didn't do that."

"But I could. I still could. Maybe there's other shit buried in my head. Maybe I'll wake up again and forget who I am and I _will_ kill her. Or David or Addie. Or all of them. Maybe -"

"_Stop_," Steve interrupted. "Don't do that to yourself."

"Why not?" Bucky asked, finally turning to glare at his best friend. "_Somebody_ has to. I _swear_ I can't take one more fucking minute of hearing how I'm innocent and how nothing I've done is my fault."

"If you really have all your memories back," Steve replied, "then you _know_ that you're innocent. It's not something I say because I want to believe it. I believe it because it's true."

Bucky merely shrugged and looked away again. "You're all better off without me. Every one of you. Should have just stayed dead in '45."

Steve clenched his jaw and leaned forward, looking at Bucky with narrowed eyes and a deadly serious expression. "All right. You wanna have a pity party, I get that. I do. You have every right to feel the way that you do. But you have a family now, Bucky, and whether you think they're better off without you or not, it's too late to go back now. So you've gotta get up and keep going. You've gotta keep fighting. If you can't do it for yourself, then you do it for them and you do it for everyone else who cares about you."

Bucky reluctantly met the other man's gaze then, wanting to argue and wanting to just _shake_ the man until he stopped having this undying faith in him. But at the same time, he wanted to grab him and hug him and spend the next several hours talking about all the new things that he could remember from their older, much simpler lives.

He looked at Steve now and could see him so much more clearly than he had before. He saw the bony little boy that he had met at elementary school and the headstrong teen who started working odd jobs wherever he could from a terribly young age to help his mom pay the bills. He could remember all the times he'd been sick, all the times Bucky had feared he might just stop breathing in his sleep or during one of his frequent asthma attacks, but even more importantly, he remembered all the good times. He remembered laughter and joy and feeling like he was one of the luckiest guys in the city to be able to call Steve his best friend.

And it all made him hate being a burden on Steve even more than he already had before.

"One of these days," he told Steve quietly, "something's gonna happen. I'm gonna go too far, do something awful. And you're not gonna be able to defend me anymore. None of you are."

Steve shook his head. "That's not gonna happen. I know you. I know you better than anybody."

"Then you should know better than anyone else how much HYDRA's still got a hold on me," Bucky replied through gritted teeth. "Five years away from them and one word - one _fucking_ word - and I'm trying to kill you again and I hurt my wife."

"That prosecutor triggered you on purpose," Steve replied. "He's trying to prove that you're dangerous."

"Well, he did," Bucky said. "And he's right."

Steve paused and, clearly fatigued by Bucky's insistence on taking on all of the blame for something that Steve would never cease defending him for, replied, "Only if you prove he's right. And I mean now that you're you again. He's only right if you let him be."

"Maybe not," Bucky mused. "Maybe some part of me's always gonna be HYDRA's. Maybe I'm too fucking damaged. Maybe I _should_ be locked up."

Steve didn't hesitate. "I don't believe that."

"I'm not what I was," Bucky shrugged. He knew that now better than ever, having such a clearer memory of who he had been before war had come and made a killer out of him.

"I know," Steve said. "Neither am I."

"Yeah," Bucky muttered, looking away and shaking his head. "You got even stupider."

Steve breathed out a short chuckle. "Now you're sounding like yourself again."

Bucky didn't quite smile back, but some of the anger and darkness left his eyes for a moment. "Why'd you come here?"

"To talk you down off the ledge," Steve replied. "And to drag you back to the doctor. They need to look you over. They'll probably want to watch you for the night. Just a precaution."

Bucky sighed and nodded shortly. "Summer probably doesn't want me home right now anyway."

Steve furrowed his brows and shook his head then, telling Bucky gently, "She's shaken up, but she's not scared of _you_."

"The look on her face could have fooled me," Bucky said through a mild grimace. "She should be scared of me." He paused before forcing himself up and getting back on his feet. "I am."

Steve sighed, giving his friend a pat on his right shoulder in an attempt to be at least somewhat comforting. Bucky looked at him and felt that urge to grab Steve and hug him return, and it was so strange because hugging wasn't something they did very often these days. But that had been different back in those earlier years, and now that instinct was back.

He ignored it, however, and simply fell into step next to Steve as he led him out of the office and into the hallway. He didn't want to deal with any doctors, but it was best to just get it over it as quickly as possible.

Meanwhile, as they headed back to the medical wing, Summer was watching the door to her own exam room open and the Dr. Lin walk through with a smile.

"Good news," she said. "You're not pregnant."

Summer let out a deeply relieved breath and looked at Natasha, who appeared just as relieved. "Thank God."

"Yep, so no further testing or imaging is necessary," the doctor said. "Just take it easy for a few days and make sure and keep your cuts clean. That bruise on your back is gonna be there awhile, but it'll heal soon enough. You're gonna be sore in the morning, but I went down to the pharmacy and had these filled for you."

She then handed Summer a bottle of painkillers, nothing too strong but definitely better than anything sold over the counter. "Oh. Thanks."

"They'll help you sleep, too," Dr. Lin nodded. "Feel better, okay?"

"Okay, I'll try," Summer smiled, and after the doctor said her farewells and left, she let the smile drop from her face immediately. "_God_, I hate all of this."

"I hate Brock Rumlow," Natasha stated casually.

Summer shook her head, staring down absently at the bottle of pills. "I still can't believe that guy's still finding ways to try to ruin our lives. I've never even seen him but I hate him more than I think I've ever hated anyone."

"He's a real piece of work," Natasha agreed. Then she paused and, after contemplating something for a moment, she said, "He asked me out once."

Summer made an _ew_ face and looked at her friend in surprise. "Did you say yes?"

Natasha gave her a look. "_Please_. Not my type."

Summer smiled slightly and nodded with relief, looking back down at her hands. "Too bad you never tripped and accidentally broke his neck."

"Too bad," Nat agreed, walking a few steps towards her and gesturing with her head towards the door. "Come on. Let's go."

After getting to her feet and wincing a little at the soreness that she could already feel radiating from her lower back and through her limbs, Summer asked, "Go where?"

"Well," Natasha said, looking down at her phone and the latest text she'd received from Steve, "looks like Bucky's being looked at now. So I say we go and grab something to eat, and then you can see him and talk after the doctors are done."

Now out in the hallway, Summer shook her head and said, "I'm really not hungry..."

"You have to eat anyway," Natasha replied, leaving no room for argument. "Besides, your lawyers are waiting in the cafeteria to talk about all the chaos from earlier."

Summer furrowed her brows. "Where did Foggy go? He wasn't there when Bucky woke up and... went crazy."

"He left to go and get a cup of coffee," Natasha replied. "Then Matt showed up, and they were on their way back to the room when a nurse stopped them and told them it wasn't safe."

"Oh." Summer paused. "How do you know all that?"

Natasha held up her phone and smiled. "Somebody had to take care of things over the last few hours while you were in your deep, dark pit of angst."

Summer smiled gratefully and then sighed, "God, I love you."

Natasha smiled back. "Yeah, I know."

* * *

While Summer forced herself to eat at least a portion of a full meal while discussing the rather horrifying details of what had occurred with Bucky's lawyers, Bucky sat and endured a seemingly endless mountain of questions from various doctors. His own therapist was there and had something of an emergency session with him, and he was stunned to learn of Bucky's full memory recovery. A top neurologist also performed a lengthy exam and wanted to order a scan of his brain to compare it to previous ones, but Bucky was in no mood to lay perfectly still in an enclosed space for such images to be taken, so that was delayed for the time being.

Bucky hated every last minute of it, but he endured it all the same. He agreed to see Dr. Connor again in two days and start seeing him with greater frequency, now that they had much more to navigate through when it came to the winding maze that was Bucky's mind.

When the revolving door of doctors seemed to finally come to an end, that was when the door opened one more time and Bucky glanced up to see a much more familiar face cautiously peek inside the room. It was Summer, with Natasha just behind her.

"Hey," Summer said quietly, eyes flitting back and forth between Bucky and Steve for a moment. She was waiting for permission, and Steve gave it to her in the form of a slight nod. He hated that she felt the need to hesitate and wait for someone's okay in the first place.

She walked inside then, looking away for a moment and carrying something in a small paper bag. "I, um... I brought you both some food, so... yeah." She handed the bag to Steve, who gave her his thanks and then set on the standard issue patient tray sitting next to the bed Bucky was sitting on. She then stood there, clearly full of nerves and unsure of what to say or do, and Bucky found that looking her in the eyes was almost impossible.

"All right, well, we'll give you two a few minutes alone," Steve said, jumping up from his seat before anyone could protest. He then took Natasha's hand and steered them out of the patient room, calling over his shoulder that they'd be outside if they needed anything. Then the door was shut, and Bucky finally managed to look Summer in the eye.

She looked like hell, and not just because of the cut in her forehead that made shame bubble up in him all over again. She looked exhausted and pale and so _nervous_ that he could almost feel it. She hadn't been this fidgety with him in ages, maybe not ever, but she had good reason to be.

"So," she finally said, heading towards the bedside chair that Steve had vacated, "they want you to stay here overnight?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Just to be safe."

She nodded and stood rather than sit down in the chair. "Okay. If you want, I could stay here with you. I don't know if they'd let me stay in the room, but..."

"No," Bucky muttered. "No, you should go home. Be with the kids. They never sleep well without you there."

Summer nodded, neither of them looking at the other for a moment before she sighed and finally stopped trying to ignore the elephant in the room. "Look, about what happened -"

"Don't," he quietly interrupted, briefly meeting her gaze before looking away. "I already know what you're gonna say and I don't..." He trailed off and clenched his jaw, not wanting to say anything more.

"Fine," she said with a small shrug. "Then I won't stand here and try to make you feel better. It was scary as hell. You scared me to death," she told him, her voice immediately getting a little wobbly with her admission, but only a little. "I thought that you were gone for good and that you weren't gonna remember me or the kids or _anything_ ever again. And I've been through some really _bad_ things before, but that scared me more than anything I've ever seen."

When Bucky refused to look up or anywhere in her general direction, Summer sat down on the bed and faced him so that he had no choice but to look at her. She reached out and touched the side of his face, cupping his jaw a little and finding it a relief when he didn't turn away from her touch.

"I know you," she said softly, "and I know you're gonna have a lot of guilt over this. I can't say anything to make that go away. I know that. But it's okay. What happened today, it's okay."

He closed his eyes and furrowed his brows. "_No it's not_."

"It's not okay that they did that to you," Summer clarified, "but we all know it wasn't you. I know you had no control over yourself."

"How does that make it any better?" he asked her, eyes slightly wide with emotions that she knew were wreaking havoc on him.

"I don't think better's the right word," she said quietly. "It's just..."

"Don't," he shook his head, reaching up and taking her hand to pull it away from his face. "Someone said one word and I turned into a monster. And you were the first one I hurt."

"I'm _fine_," she tried to assure him, her tone a little desperate.

"I threw you into a wall," Bucky reminded her, "just because you touched my hand. I could have killed you."

"But -"

"We could have been sitting at home," Bucky went on, "and you could have been helping David with his history book, said that one fucking word, and I could have killed all of you when I woke up."

"Yeah, and you could have strangled me to death a million times in your sleep by now, but you haven't," she replied, trying to take his hand. He pulled it away so she couldn't. "Bucky, _stop_."

He shook his head, staring at the wall. Summer let out a breath of impatience and leaned a little closer, reaching out and taking his face in both of her hands. Forcing him to look her in the eye, she told him in the most firm and non-shaky voice that she could manage in that moment, "Listen to me. I know that today was absolute _hell_ and if you really do have your whole memory back, you're probably remembering _beyond_ horrible things and I _know_ you're hurting. I _know_ that. I can't even imagine how bad it is. But you can't shut me out now because if the trial doesn't go our way, then these are the last few months that I'm gonna have with you. And I don't want us to spend that time like this."

Her voice cracked slightly on the last few words, and his previously stony eyes softened a bit. They had both been taking such care to avoid talking about _that_, about what would happen if he was convicted and put away for life, but maybe it was time to stop pretending like that wasn't a real possibility.

"Please don't shut me out," she added more quietly. She watched him close his eyes and frown before he reached for her, and then he was pulling her into an embrace that she hadn't even realized she desperately needed until she was in the midst of it. She wrapped her arms around him, one hand on the back of his head as she closed her eyes and leaned her head on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," he murmured against her ear, his right hand running down over the back of her hair.

She shook her head against him, her voice slightly muffled as she replied, "It wasn't you."

For a moment, everything was almost okay again. He felt a little better with her in his arms, and she felt incredibly relieved that he was _him_ again and he wasn't pushing her away. But the moment was short lived, cut off when Bucky's hand drifted down over her back and Summer involuntarily tensed in pain. She hadn't meant to, but she couldn't help it.

Bucky noticed, of course, and drew away to look at her with concern. She tried to wave him off. "It's fine. I'm fine."

He was unsurprisingly not convinced. He looked at her with dread in his eyes and muttered, "Turn."

"Bucky, I really don't -"

"Just do it, _please_," he said through slightly gritted teeth.

Summer gave up and shifted so that her back was facing towards him. He reached out and gently pushed up the bottom of her shirt, revealing an incredibly ugly and large purple bruise on her lower back. It stretched from one side to the other, painful and tender to the lightest touch, and Bucky stared at it for a moment before dropping her shirt and looking away.

Summer knew what would happen next if she didn't do something. He'd drift off in his own head or stand up and start wandering aimlessly about the room, mentally beating himself up all over again, and she didn't want to let that happen. Before he could get lost in the dark again, she pulled his face towards hers again and told him, "I know it looks bad. All of this looks bad but it's... it's not the end of the world. I'm okay. Just cuts and bruises."

It was obvious by the pained way that he looked at her that he didn't believe what she was saying, but that was what she expected. He just needed time. In time he'd see that it really wasn't the end of the world. They just had to get through this initial rough spot, and then he'd see that she really was fine and that he wasn't going to wake up one day and start randomly slaughtering everyone in the room.

She pulled him back to her, kissing his forehead before throwing her arms around him again. She wished that she could make it all go away and make him feel better again, but some things were just beyond her reach. All she could do was make sure he knew that he wasn't alone and that she wasn't scared of him, and help him in anyway that she could moving forward.

"I love you," she murmured, still holding him close. "I could kill that guy for doing this to you."

Bucky, clutching her just as tightly in return, didn't answer with words but rather with his actions as he buried his face against her neck. She felt him breathe in, the scent of her hair always grounding and comforting when he needed something familiar to hang on to. It made her feel just a little bit better, knowing that even though she was so very powerless when it came to so many things, she could at least give him some comfort when he needed it most.

* * *

Night had fallen by the time that Summer finally headed home. Steve set up camp in Bucky's patient room, not even considering letting Bucky stay there alone and certainly not letting any doctors or staff tell him otherwise. Bucky, of course, told him that he could go home and get some sleep that didn't involve trying to curl his overgrown body into an uncomfortably small chair, but Steve wouldn't hear a word of it. And deep down, Bucky was relieved.

They spent a large portion of the night simply talking. Bucky didn't say much, but Steve spoke fondly of all the memories that Bucky could now remember and it made for a pleasant distraction from the harsher things haunting his mind. They talked until the day caught up with Steve and he nodded off in his chair, leaving Bucky exhausted but far too restless to sleep.

He knew there was no hope of sleeping that night. The room was too cold, too unfamiliar and clinical, and every time he closed his eyes he saw himself being operated on. The thought of spending the rest of the night like that, fighting sleep and sitting there in silence, prompted him to slowly and silently ease out of bed and make it out of the room without waking Steve. There was someone else staying the night in the medical wing that Bucky had a feeling wasn't getting much sleep either.

She was just a couple of rooms down from his, curled up in her own bed with her eyes closed but not asleep by a longshot. Bucky saw her through the room's window first, and he looked around before softly tapping on the door and then pushing it open. Her eyes opened then, and as she looked tiredly towards the door, her self-appointed guardian at her side looked at Bucky with cautious but not unkind eyes.

"The doctors are supposed to be watching you," Vision said as Bucky hesitated before coming in any further.

"Yeah. Can't sleep," he shrugged, glancing at Wanda as she sat up. "I just... wanted to talk, after..."

Wanda nodded and then told Vision, "It's okay."

Vision looked at her for a moment before nodding and standing. "I'll wait outside," he said before quietly moving past Bucky and leaving the room. The door closed, and Bucky walked to the chair that Vision had just vacated and sat down.

Wanda looked smaller than she had ever seemed before, sitting in the bed a thin blanket wrapped around her. She was, like Bucky, wearing scrubs that they had been loaned in lieu of other clothing. Her eyes were tired and red-rimmed, and she had the distinct appearance of someone who had been crying for much of the day.

"They told me you remember everything now," Wanda said quietly.

He nodded. "Yeah."

She swallowed and looked down at her hands as they fiddled with her blanket. "I didn't mean for us to... for our minds to do that. I couldn't help it."

"Yeah, I know," he replied softly. "You okay?"

"Not really," she replied honestly. "I can't sleep. Every time I close my eyes I..." she paused and shook her head. "I see what you saw. I still feel like I'm in your head_."_

"Yeah, I know," he muttered. "Same for me."

"It's strange," she said, fingers still fidgeting. "None of it feels right."

"Well," he said with a small shrug, "I don't think it's supposed to." He then looked her over as she continued to sit there, staring down at nothing, and then he said, "I'm sorry. I can barely handle what's in my head myself. I never would have let you take all that on. Wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy."

She simply smiled a bit hollowly at him and shook her head. "I did what I had to do. And it worked."

"Yeah. Thank you," he told her sincerely. "I don't know if I would have remembered... _anything_... without what you did."

She offered him a small smile. "You know, it wasn't all bad. I felt all the good things, too. How much you love Summer, and your children. How important Steve is to you. He was the reason I was able to pull you out."

Bucky thought about that for a moment, glancing down towards his feet. Steve was the only connection that his present self had to his past, to his childhood and his family, and it made sense that Steve would play such a key role in his mind and memory. He shuddered to think of where he would be without Steve - most likely dead years ago after Project Insight was successfully launched. He wouldn't even be around to be on trial and have his head messed with by overly eager prosecutors.

"I'm sorry about your brother," Bucky said when he looked back up. Wanda's eyes flickered up to meet his, filling up with tears all over again.

"You would think it wouldn't hurt so bad by now," she said, swiping her fingers under her eyes. "I keep waiting for it to get better, but it never really does."

He could feel it as clearly as he could earlier, the way that she had felt when she'd sensed her brother's death. It was a permanent, unnatural tear that ripped through her very soul, and something like that never healed. Not really. It just scabbed over, waiting to be ripped off again and again.

He wondered if that was how Steve had felt when he'd watched him fall all of those years ago.

"But even after that," she said, "I don't think I could have ever been ready for seeing what _you_ went through. Your arm... what they did to you..."

Bucky's jaw clenched as he forced himself to take a breath, not wanting to talk about this but knowing that he had to. It was easier to talk to someone who had quite literally experienced it alongside him earlier. "I didn't... I didn't remember the surgery before, or... what they did after. It was just flashes."

"It's too much for one person," she replied. He couldn't disagree.

He drew another shaky breath and then said in an effort to take his mind off of the memories trying to edge their way back into his head, "They tortured you, too."

She furrowed her brows and looked away. "I volunteered."

"But you didn't know who you were volunteering for," he replied. "I saw it all. And I felt how it burned you."

"But when I was in my cell," she said, "I sat there and waited for the burning to stop and then when it finally did, I counted the days until I could start fighting and getting my revenge. I didn't scratch names and words into my arm so I wouldn't forget them."

The skin on his right forearm suddenly tingled as if from physical memory. He knew it was all in his head, but he almost expected to look down and see jagged scars instead of seemingly flawless skin.

"You can't compare us," she insisted quietly.

He looked up at her and replied, "Wasn't trying to. I just didn't know what you've been through until now."

"Well, now we both know a lot more than we ever wanted to," she said, smiling humorlessly. "I'm glad you remember. If you hadn't, I don't know what would have happened."

He nodded before muttering quietly, "I don't think I can thank you enough for bringing me back."

She smiled and shrugged. "You _do_ owe me now."

He almost chuckled. It was more of a sharp exhale than anything resembling a real laugh, however, but it was something. Then he glanced towards the door, outside of which Vision was speaking to someone as he continued to stand guard. "Looks like you've got a guardian... droid."

"Yeah," she said softly, looking his way with a quiet, maybe even slightly dreamy look in her eyes. It was the same look that Summer always insisted meant Wanda had it bad for the guy, and Bucky couldn't disagree. "He's very protective."

A moment later, Bucky drew in a breath and said, "I should get back. You need to get some sleep."

"So do you," she pointed out as he stood up.

He scoffed slightly. "Yeah, not gonna happen."

She pursed her lips and then replied, "Then at least do me one favor. I know how much guilt you feel. It's crippling. You can't live like that."

He paused, having not expected her to say that, but on second thought it wasn't surprising at all. "Don't think that's gonna change any time soon."

"You shouldn't feel so much guilt over things you couldn't control," she told him.

"Neither should you," he replied gently. She frowned then, looking down and nodding almost imperceptibly. They both knew there would be no resolving of their issues in the near future, especially not that night, so he put a comforting hand on her shoulder as a way of saying goodnight. Then he turned and left, giving Vision a small nod before heading back to his own room where a long night waited ahead.

Steve was still asleep when Bucky got back. He silently crawled back into the small, uncomfortable bed, feeling an unpleasant twist in his gut at the thought of laying there all night as a captive to the noise and images in his head. But if he slept, he'd see it all again and _feel_ it all again, and that was even worse.

Maybe he'd never find true rest again until he was dead.

* * *

The following morning, Summer woke up at the crack of dawn to the sound of Adelaide giggling in her crib just across from Summer's bed. She blearily sat up and squinted until she could see somewhat clearly, and that was when she determined the culprit of the issue - Loki the cat, who had hopped into Adelaide's crib and was now purring happily as she pet his head and sleepily played with him.

"Fricking cat," Summer muttered, looking at the clock to find that it was barely 6:30 AM. She let out a sigh and looked at Bucky's empty side of the bed, then at David who was, as per usual, curled up not unlike a puppy at the foot of the bed. Then she briefly laid back down, wincing when she did because as she had predicted, she was sore as hell.

But none of that mattered, and neither did her measly three hours or so of sleep. She got out of bed and picked Adelaide up and out of her crib, kissing her cheek and giving the annoying but gorgeous kitty in the crib a scratch or two behind his ears before officially getting the day started. It was just as well - the sooner she got out of the tower, the sooner she could bring Bucky home.

Two hours later, both kids were up, fed, and happy, and Summer debated between leaving them at the tower or bringing them to pick Bucky up. She quickly decided against taking them merely as a precaution in case she happened across any reporters or cameras along the way, and that meant she had to go and wake up Darcy so she could watch them for her. She _hated_ doing things like that, _hated_ being a burden on others, but her options those days were hideously limited.

After the kids were situated and Darcy had taken over without a hint of bitterness, which somehow made Summer feel even worse, she looked in the mirror before grabbing her keys and heading out. The cut on her forehead looked as awful as it had the day before, and no amount of makeup would fully conceal it. She sighed and decided to ignore both it and the twinges of pain she felt every time she so much as moved, and she headed out the door.

She just wanted a nice, quiet, calm day where Bucky would come home and they could deal with the aftermath of the day before in peace. He needed a break _badly_ and she just wanted to have a moment to breathe.

But as usual, the universe had other plans.

* * *

From the moment she picked him up to the time she brought him home, Bucky didn't say more than two words to Summer. Natasha hitched a ride with them and provided most of the conversation from the backseat, and every few minutes, Summer would glance to her right at Bucky to check on him. Each time, she found him staring aimlessly out the passenger window, a million miles away in his own head, and she could tell that he hadn't slept a wink the night before. He had a rough road ahead of him, and she absolutely hated it.

Once they returned to the tower, Summer stood next to Bucky in the elevator ride up and took his hand in hers in what she hoped was a comforting gesture. He looked at her when she touched him, not smiling but not frowning either, and she knew that was the best she was going to get. She squeezed his hand and then looked up as the elevator doors opened, only to stop dead in her tracks when she walked through and saw who was waiting for her.

It was the damn social worker who had promised to check up on Summer's "situation" from time to time, and as always, the woman's timing was impeccably terrible.

She had been sitting on the couch across from Darcy, watching the kids play on the floor, and she stood up as soon as she saw that Summer and Bucky had arrived home. "Mr. and Mrs. Barnes," she said sharply but cordially, smiling and heading their way. "Good morning. Sorry to drop in unannounced, but after yesterday's events I wanted to check in and see how everybody was."

Heart suddenly racing and panic simmering just under the surface, Summer glanced at Bucky when he looked at her in pure confusion, and then she mustered up a smile and told the woman, "It's okay."

She then looked at Bucky, who looked both lost and highly concerned, and then she held out her hand and said, "I'm Margo Davis with the Department of Children and Families. I haven't gotten to meet you yet."

Bucky reluctantly shook her hand, his entire expression changing when it dawned on him who this woman was and why she was there.

Summer then felt a huge wave of guilt threaten to crash over her head. She had never told Bucky about the social worker's first visit, mainly because she didn't want to cause him more stress or add to his worries. Now, however, she regretted that decision, especially when Bucky looked at her in a way that made her feel even worse.

"How are you feeling?" Margo asked Bucky after dropping his hand. "I saw what happened on the news."

She didn't _really_ see what happened on the news. All that the press knew was that Bucky had collapsed in the courtroom and had been taken away by ambulance - the details were being withheld quite deliberately.

"I'm fine," Bucky told her, and as soon as he spoke, both David and Adelaide heard him and promptly got up and rushed to him. He had only been gone one night, but they had missed him terribly and they both smacked into him with full force as they hugged the crap out of him.

As Bucky hugged them back and picked Adelaide up, Summer glanced at Darcy who mouthed _I am so sorry_ while gesturing to the social worker. Summer nodded and gave her a reassuring if empty smile, knowing there was nothing Darcy could have done to keep Margo out.

Meanwhile, Natasha was the one who was clear-headed enough to step in and cut to the chase. "Miss Davis, we all have a lot of work to do and not a lot of time to do it in, so if you could state the reason for your visit?"

Margo eyed Natasha and then ignored her, turning back to the parents before her, addressing Summer first. "As I told you during my first visit, it's my job to make sure that the needs of the children are being met. I'm just here to check on them."

As soon as the words "first visit" left the woman's mouth, Bucky looked at Summer with pure disbelief. She tried to only freak out about one thing at a time, replying, "I understand. They're fine. They're doing good. As you can see."

"They look good," Margo nodded. "You, on the other hand, look like you've got some stitches in your forehead."

_Oh crap_. Stomach turning, Summer shrugged and said, "It's not a big deal. I'm fine."

Margo didn't look convinced. She looked at Bucky next, thinking only God knew what, and then she asked Summer, "How exactly did you get that?"

Before Summer could flounder for a lie that would have been embarrassingly transparent, Natasha was already lying for her, and much more smoothly than she could have herself. "I've been teaching her self defense. She took a tumble yesterday while we were training."

Margo slowly turned to look at Natasha as if to express how little she cared to hear anything she had to say, and then she looked from Bucky to Summer again. "You looked fine on the footage from yesterday. You were training while he was in the hospital?"

Summer nodded. "Yeah, he was out for a few hours, so to pass the time..." She shrugged. "I have anxiety issues, so keeping busy helps keep me from going crazy in situations like that." _That_ wasn't a lie.

Margo didn't look convinced, but she also had no reason _not_ to believe them. "All right. Well, I've already checked the fridge and the kids' rooms, so I've completed most of my check. I want to come back soon for a more thorough visit, with the both of you."

"That's fine," Summer quickly nodded. "If you could call first next time..."

"Of course," Margo assured her with a false smile. "I'm concerned about the safety of this particular living arrangement. The kids have their own rooms, which is good, but this is hardly the sort of environment we want to see children raised in."

"It's temporary," Summer told her. "I told you that last time. They wouldn't be safe right now in a normal house, with the press and protesters and everything."

"But are they safe _here_?" Margo asked, eyeing Summer's forehead as she spoke. Bucky, in the midst of all of this, simply held on to Adelaide as she babbled obliviously in his arms, trying not to let his guilt show too clearly.

"_Yes_," Summer replied. "We're doing everything we can to keep them safe and give a sense of normality. And routine. Trust me, they're our priority no matter what's happening."

Margo nodded, watching Adelaide as she gnawed on her tiny fist while laying her head on her father's shoulder. "Well, as I said, I'll be in touch soon. You have my number," she told Summer. "Make sure and let me know if you need anything."

Summer nodded, a bit confused by that last statement. "Okay."

Margo bade farewell then, clutching her purse to her shoulder and walking towards the elevators. She didn't see the black furball in front of her feet until it was too late, and after she stepped on Loki the cat's tail with her high heel, the cat screeched and then hissed at her with all the fury of a much bigger and scarier cat. The woman faltered and laughed, leaning down to pet the cat and offering an apology, but he merely swiped his claws at her hand and made an indignant noise before walking off with his tail high in the air. She rolled her eyes and continued on her way.

Once she was gone, Bucky gave Adelaide a kiss on the cheek and then murmured an _I love you_ before setting her down and then giving David a pat on the head. He then turned and made a beeline for his and Summer's bedroom without a word or glance to anyone.

_Oh man_. Summer quickly called out to him, "Bucky, wait, I -"

He kept walking and didn't even twitch in her direction. He got to their room down the hall and slammed the door shut behind him, and Summer closed her eyes in dismay.

"You never told him about her?" Natasha asked, and Summer shook her head.

"I didn't want to make it worse. I knew he'd just freak out even more, and... oh man."

"Go and talk it out," Natasha told her, picking up Adelaide. "I've got them."

"Thank you," Summer sighed before wasting no time in going after Bucky. She couldn't believe the timing of this crap - of all the days to get a surprise visit from DCF, this might have been the worst.

She opened the door to their bedroom and found it seemingly empty. She heard the sink running in the bathroom behind the closed door, so she sat on the edge of the bed and waited for him to come out.

It wasn't long before the door opened and he came trudging out, looking angry and sad and confused and miserable all at once. He took one look at Summer and his expression grew even darker.

She immediately stood up. "Bucky, I -"

"I don't want to talk," he told her, waving a hand at her dismissively.

"But I just want you to understand," she said, following him as he grimaced and headed towards their window. "She came here right after you were arrested. It was so long ago and I didn't want to make you worry more, so I just..."

"She knows I did that to you," he said, turning to face her. He pointed to the cut on her forehead. "She knows you were lying."

"You _didn't_ do this to me," Summer replied, and Bucky rolled his eyes.

"Yes I did," he said, "and you had to stand there and cover it up like a fucking..." He cut himself off, scowling and looking away. Then he said the last thing she ever expected him to say. "You should take the kids and leave."

She blinked. "_What_?"

"You're not safe here," he told her. "Neither are they. It's just a matter of time before that woman comes back and takes them away."

Summer shook her head almost frantically. "No. That's - _no_. Are you - you can't be serious."

"I'm dead serious."

"They _can't_ take them away from us," Summer argued. "It's their job to check up on us, but we take care of them and we feed them and love them, and they're happy. We're good parents, even she knows that."

Bucky laughed humorlessly. "No, you're a good parent. I'm not even... I'm just _here_. Barely. I didn't even know we had those people investigating us."

"That's my fault," Summer muttered.

"Yeah, it is," he didn't hesitate to agree.

Wincing and feeling _awful_, Summer sighed and said, "I'm sorry. I am. I should have told you. I was just... trying to protect you, I guess."

"Doesn't matter," he shrugged, looking away again. "They're gonna think I hit you now. They already know who I am and what I've done. It's just a matter of time before they think I'm gonna hurt the kids or that I already have. You should just... take them and disappear and..."

"_No_," Summer said, the firmness in her voice taking herself by surprise. She stepped closer to him and took his face in her hands, making sure that he was looking at her and nothing else. "I am _not_ taking them and going anywhere. I'm not leaving you."

He sighed and tried to move her hands away. "_Summer_..."

She stood her ground. "_No_, Bucky. We're in this together, okay? I wasn't just saying pretty-sounding words when I said for better or worse. This is the _worse_ part, and as freaked out as I am about all of this, there's no way in hell I'm going anywhere."

He shook his head, clenching his jaw and trying to look anywhere but in her eyes. He could only hold out for so long, however, and when he finally met her gaze, she watched as hurt and shame and despair welled up in his eyes. She was about to pull him close and embrace him, kiss him, do anything she possibly could to make him feel better, but then he took her wrists and moved her arms back to her sides, and he stepped around her with the intent of leaving the room without a word.

She reached out and grabbed at his right arm. "Bucky, _stop_."

He spun around and looked at her with a hardness and distance in his eyes that she hadn't seen in a long time. "I want to be alone," he muttered before taking his arm out of her grip.

She wasn't used to this. She was grasping at straws, just wanting to make him feel better and maybe not knowing quite when to stop in her current state. "But..."

"_Dammit_, would you just leave me alone?" he snapped, surprising himself as much as he surprised her. He furrowed his brows after as if he wasn't sure if he had just said that out loud or not.

She stared at him with slight hurt for a moment before her brain kicked in and reminded her that he had been through an unimaginable ordeal yesterday and was now dealing with even _more_ thanks to the social worker's visit. She blinked and then felt incredibly stupid and pushy, wishing she had just let him be in the first place. Of course he needed space. She was an idiot.

"Okay, yeah," she said quietly, nodding. "Sorry. Just text me if you need anything, okay?"

He sighed and muttered, "Summer, I didn't mean -"

"It's okay," she assured him, touching his arm comfortingly. "I understand. Take all the time you need. You should try to get some sleep too, if you can."

With that, she pulled her hand back and stepped around him, taking a deep breath and heading to the door. He watched her leave, feeling no better once she was gone and he had been granted his solitude.

She lingered for a moment on the other side of the door after she'd closed it, shutting her eyes and trying to force down a lump of unwanted and useless feelings crawling up her throat. Everything just kept getting worse. They couldn't catch a break. It was just one stroke of bad luck after another, and even something as seemingly positive as all of Bucky's memories being restored seemed to be a lot more of a curse than a blessing.

She opened her eyes when she felt a soft pressure against her leg. She looked down and wasn't surprised to see little Loki, rubbing against her leg and looking up at her with those almost unnervingly bright green eyes of his as he offered a soft _meow_.

She sighed and picked him up, feeling his happy purr vibrate through his little feline body as she patted his head and muttered, "What I wouldn't give to trade places with you every once in awhile."


	61. Chapter 61

**A/N: Alrighty so, first of all, thank you guys so much for your reviews and feedback and follows, I love you all SO MUCH and I am so so grateful for each of you lovely readers :D Now, unfortunately, this is going to be the last chapter that I'll be able to post for at least a month. Real life has taken a turn for the hectic and I currently have almost zero writing time - definitely not enough to focus fully on the next chapter and do it justice - so I'm going to be taking a bit of a break. Everything's okay, so no worries there, but writing just really isn't happening at the moment, not for a lack of motivation but just sheer time issues. I do anticipate things going back to normal in about a month though, so rest assured that I'll be back and that this story will be finished and all my future stuff in the works will happen as well :) It's not impossible that I might manage to squeak out another update here in the next few weeks, but since that's unlikely, I'm just going to say to expect one in about a month. So keep an eye out for that, and in the meantime, hopefully you guys will like this next chapter :D let me know what you guys think, and I'll be back with a new chapter as soon as I can! **

Following the legal blunder of the century, Bucky's trial was put on hold for three weeks while the prosecution got its act together and regrouped under a new lead attorney. This news came as a relief to Summer and the opposite to Bucky himself, who simply just wanted the trial over and done with and his fate decided.

Still, the break gave them all the chance to breathe, at least a little bit. Matt and Foggy dealt with the press and the inevitable reports of what had happened when to make Bucky fall unconscious in the courtroom. They only had a day or two of keeping the details under wraps before they were released, and the news only served to further divide public opinion. Those who considered Bucky innocent saw the incident as confirming his lack of responsibility for his actions as the Winter Soldier, and those who wanted him locked up saw it as undeniable proof that he was indeed still dangerous and certainly not fit to be roaming the streets as a free man.

Summer's blog was inundated with comments from followers who were highly concerned for them and had many choice words for the now-dismissed prosecutor, and reading through each comment took the better part of an entire day. It was worth it, however, for how it lifted Summer's spirits a little bit to see how many people were as outraged as she was. She wrote a post about the incident, leaving out the more sensitive details, and as was expected at that point, the post got plenty of attention on all the news cycles.

The good news was that Summer hadn't been photographed or seen in the media following those events, so she didn't have to endure any questions or speculation as to who had given her the nasty cut on her forehead. It wasn't something that she thought about often, and in fact she would do a very good job of forgetting that it was even there until she'd catch Bucky staring at it. He _couldn't_ forget what he had done, and he also couldn't stop punishing himself for it.

In the days following the full restoration of his memory, for Summer it was like watching him relapse into the struggling and sleepless man that he had been at the very start of their relationship. He was quieter, much more distant, and even irritable which was rather new. He didn't sleep much, and most nights he would either wait until she fell asleep and then quietly slip out of bed or he wouldn't come to bed at all until morning had nearly arrived. He was back in therapy full time and that was good, she knew, but whatever he was sharing with Dr. Connor, he wasn't sharing it with Summer. In fact, she was pretty sure that sometimes he was even avoiding her.

For the kids, he put on his best happy face and tried to make them feel as if nothing was different. It worked for Adelaide, being as little as she was, but David was too observant for much to get past him. He drew Bucky pictures to cheer him up and would act silly to try to get laughs out of him, and Summer recognized that as a trait he'd inherited for her. She always tried to use humor to make someone feel better and was painfully sensitive to the moods of the people that she loved, but her attempts at this weren't as successful as David's.

She tried to talk to Bucky and get him to open up at least a little about his new memories and why he was having such a hard time dealing with them, but he shut her down almost every time. He'd never done that before, and to make it even worse, they were legitimately _bickering_ for the first time on a regular basis. Ever since the social worker's untimely visit had set him off and the threat of having the kids taken loomed over their heads, there was a tension between them and every time she tried to resolve it or at least ignore it, it only seemed to get worse.

He didn't want to talk about it. He didn't want to let her in. He never wanted to do anything she suggested to take his mind off of his worries. All he wanted to do was punch and kick his frustration out in the gym, which he spent an inordinate amount of time doing, and he was also spending a lot of time with Steve. When he wasn't doing either of those things, he was usually either putting on a brave face for the kids or scribbling his newly recovered memories in a notebook because he was now more afraid than ever of forgetting again.

She never even touched that notebook or peeked at it, even though it was sometimes a tempting idea. She trusted him to open up to her in his own time, and she tried her very best to not push him or get on his nerves or do anything else to make it worse. She did, however, decide a two weeks following the _Sputnik_ incident to try a new tactic and hand the kids over to Steve and Natasha for a night so that she could try to get Bucky's mind off of everything for at least a few hours. She didn't know how successful she would be but at the very least, they'd get some time to themselves for the first time in a very long time and she definitely need that. Hopefully he did too, though it was hard to tell with how he was often running the other way.

When the night came, Steve and Natasha slipped out for an incognito night at the movies with the kids and Summer got dressed up and ready like she was preparing for a date. Dinner was in the crockpot, a very easy recipe and luckily one of Bucky's favorites, and he was in their room alone and oblivious as Summer got everything set up the way that she wanted once dinner had finished cooking. She got ready in Natasha's room to avoid suspicion, fixing her hair and throwing on a nice dress that she knew he liked, and because this was _Bucky_ she was trying to impress, she put on a pair of heels too.

While she uncorked a bottle of red wine that she'd nabbed from Tony's ridiculously extensive cellar, the smell of the food drew Bucky out of their room and into the kitchen. He paused when he saw the whole floor empty and Summer pouring wine at the table set for two, and he knew she was up to something as he trailed his eyes over the back of her and took note of her dress, dark hose on her legs and high heels. He liked that dress a lot - it was black and it fit her beautifully, fitted at the top and flowy at the bottom, tied at the side of her waist with a bow - and he wasn't sure if he'd seen the heels before. They were a deep scarlet color and _very_ high, and he could hazard a guess as to why she'd worn them.

After she filled the glasses of wine and set down the bottle, she turned and almost jumped a little when she saw him standing there watching her with a suspicious but knowing look on his face. "Oh hey," she smiled, tucking her hair back behind her ears and feeling oddly nervous. "I didn't hear you come out."

"You're all dressed up," he noted, walking towards her and the table. "Where's the kids? And..." he glanced around as he walked, "everyone?"

"The kids are at the movies with Steve and Nat getting some much needed time out of this tower," she replied with a smile, leaning up and giving him a peck on the lips once he was close enough. "And I bribed everyone else to let us have the floor to ourselves for a few hours."

He smiled faintly at her, a very small smile that she was used to seeing in those days, and he lowered his eyes over her body again before telling her, "You look beautiful." She smiled and then he glanced down at himself before adding, "And I'm wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt."

"It's okay," she insisted with a laugh, gesturing for him to sit down. "I'd rather you be comfortable. Besides," she grinned, "sometimes sweatpants make things more visible on guys, you know?"

He gave a small grin back and shook his head, looking down and not giving her the kind of comeback that she would normally expect from him. That was okay, though. She was happy just to be pulling these little small smiles from him at all, because God knew that wasn't easy to do anymore.

"I'll be right back," she said, briefly dragging her hand along his shoulder before heading back inside the kitchen to grab their plates. She could feel him watching her as her heels clicked across the floor, and she held fast to her hope that the night would go well.

Her goal was to get through dinner without either of them having to say a single word about the trial or lawyers or memories that Bucky wished he didn't have. It wasn't easy, but to her relief, they actually pulled it off. As they are, Summer carefully steered the conversation from one safe topic to another, from the kids and David's progress with his studies and the piano teacher he had been taking lessons from for months to mildly interesting stuff from her workplace. She still worked four to five days a week ten floors above their room planning events for SI, and that provided plenty of safe chatter.

He knew what she was doing, trying to distract him and pointedly ignore the constantly swirling storm looming over their lives, and he played along with her. She did most of the talking but he spoke when he knew it was needed, and it was okay. It wasn't bad, and it wasn't great. It was simply exactly what it was - a semi-effective distraction from things that he really wasn't sure that he _could_ be fully distracted from.

Summer knew this, and she was okay with that because dinner was only phase one of her plan. Once they'd finished eating and Bucky had volunteered to take their dishes to the sink for her, she prepared to commence phase two which had a much riskier chance for success. But if it did succeed, she was sure that it would be more than worth it.

After he was done cleaning up for her, Summer walked up to him as he dried his hands on a small towel and then smiled brightly as she asked, "Ready for the next stage of my evil plan?"

"There's more?" he asked, tossing the towel aside and letting her take both of his hands in hers and start walking him out of the kitchen.

"Of course there is," she smiled. "I plan giant events for a living. I can handle a date."

"Oh, so this is a _date_," he chuckled quietly as they moved out into the hallway towards their room. "Pretty forward of you, taking me to your bedroom right after dinner."

She smiled at his display of humor, painfully aware that it was the first joke he'd cracked in weeks. "Well, y'know... I'm a modern woman and all. But actually, I'm not taking you to our room for that. Not _yet_, anyway."

They reached their room just then, and she shot him what she hoped was a mischievous grin before opening the door and bringing them inside. She let him walk past her and then shut the door behind her, and then she quickly got to work moving things around while he watched her in brief confusion.

She moved Adelaide's crib and kicked away a bunch of baby toys that littered the floor, pushed a chair and a small table against the wall, and then once she headed to their dresser where Bucky's long-unused record player was, he finally understood what it was that she was planning on doing with him.

She already had a record picked out and put in place, so as she turned it on and got it started, she glanced at him and smiled. She got a half-smile back, and then once everything was set, she walked to him and reached for his hands again as she explained, "It's been a long time since we've danced, and... I don't know, I thought it would be nice."

He nodded and let her move him to the center of the room as the first notes of the song began to play. She'd chosen the record carefully, making sure it was a song that hadn't been released prior to his "death" in case a familiar song would trigger him or bring up difficult memories. The song was from 1949, and it was one that they'd danced to a few times back when he was still teaching her how to.

His metal arm slipped around her waist, pulling her close to him, and his right hand took hold of her left one. They slowly began to sway to the easy rhythm of the song, and Summer smiled up at him almost as soon as they had begun to move.

"Remember when we'd do this all the time, in this same room," she said, trying to fill his mind with a pleasant memory for once rather than a bad one. "I was so bad at first and you were so patient."

"You weren't that bad," he assured her. "Just needed a few pointers here and there, that's all."

She scoffed quietly. "I had two left feet. But you still managed to make a dancer out of me. Twice, actually."

She hadn't meant to say that, because bringing up how he'd helped her learn to dance again after her leg had been crushed by a drunken teenage driver didn't exactly qualify as a happy memory, but thankfully it didn't seem to bother him. He simply nodded and then smiled, "Yeah, and then Natasha went and _really_ made you into a dancer."

She blushed a little and glanced down as she smiled. "Yeah, she did. Wonder if I've still got the moves."

"If you want to give it a try and see, I won't stop you," he replied, and she chuckled before laying her head down on his shoulder and closing her eyes with a quiet sigh.

"I love you," she said quietly, and she felt him nuzzle gently into her hair as the words left her mouth.

"I love you too," he replied just as softly, and for a moment - just a moment - they were okay again. Everything was okay, they were in their own little bubble of happiness, and the world didn't matter for a little while.

He spun her slowly a few times, making her smile and then melt back against him when he'd bring her back against his chest. He smelled good, having showered just a few hours before after his usual overly strenuous and hideously long workout down in the gym, and he felt so solid and strong that it somehow took her by surprise. She didn't understand why for a few moments, but then it hit her that she couldn't remember the last time she'd been this close to him for this long. A lot of that had to do with the healing cut on her forehead that she'd caked with makeup before dinner, but so far he hadn't been staring at it like he usually did. He was doing good with this, and she wanted to keep it that way.

Music still playing and their bodies still swaying together lazily, Summer looked up at him and began to slowly lean in closer, wanting to see if he would lean in to meet her. When he did, she brushed her nose against his and closed her eyes before placing a soft, short little kiss on his lips. It was just a test to see how he'd react and if he'd reciprocate, and when he answered with a kiss of his own, she felt even more relieved than she had expected to be.

He drew away from the kiss only to untangle his hand from hers and then bring it to her face, gently cupping her jaw before kissing her again, more deeply that time. Summer could have _sang_ with joy, but instead she parted her lips for him and welcomed the soft, teasing little brush of his tongue against hers. She moaned a little just from that, and then they were no longer dancing but instead standing there in each other's arms and kissing until they were both breathless.

When they broke away for air, Bucky leaned his forehead against hers and murmured in a voice that made her shiver, "Thank you for all this, sweetheart. I needed a night like this."

"You're welcome," she smiled, wrapping both arms around his neck before pressing a kiss to his lips. Then she added, "It's not over yet, though."

His eyebrows raised up a little at the gleam in her eye. "No?" When she shook her head, he asked, "What else you got for me?"

"Take off my dress and find out," she purred, and the way that his gaze heated up at those words made her insides jump with excitement. She grinned and then turned around in his arms, pulling her hair over one shoulder so that he had a clear view of the zipper on the back of her dress.

She closed her eyes and sighed when he pressed his lips low on back of her neck. His flesh fingers gripped the zipper and slowly dragged it down, his lips kissing down between her shoulder blades as each new inch of skin was exposed. Then he drew away and pulled the zipper all the way down to her lower back, and after pushing the dress down and letting it pool on the floor around Summer's heels, he got the full view of the back of her last little surprise for him.

Underneath that little dress, she had been decked out in satin lingerie all night. He'd seen her in a lot of different lingerie sets over time, but he'd never seen her in the sort of red satin with black lace detailing that she was wearing now. After he raked in the sight of her, she stepped out of her dress, kicked it away, and then turned around to give him the best view of all.

He let out a strangled groan that he just couldn't help. She looked absolutely perfect, her long dark hair tumbling over her shoulders but not obscuring his view of her breasts as they sat snug and high in her red and black bra. Then it was all smooth and pale skin until his eyes reached her matching garter, sitting above an almost criminally tiny pair of panties that he was sure would rip with the smallest tug. The little garter straps were snapped securely to the tops of her stockings that stretched over her long and perfect legs, leading down to those damn high heels that just so happened to perfectly match everything else.

He reached out for her, ready to devour her, but she quickly darted just out of his reach and then slid surprisingly smoothly on to their bed. She scooted back into the middle of the bed, leaning back on her elbows and giving him what she hoped was a come hither sort of look, and it must have worked because he was crawling on the bed after her in an instant.

He halted, however, when she pressed one high heeled foot to his chest. He looked down at her foot and then back at her, the heat in his eyes even more intense now as he looked at her questioningly. She grinned and said, "You're a little overdressed."

He stood back up in a flash, hands gripping the bottom of his shirt and yanking it up and off dizzyingly quickly. Summer watched with a little grin and her lower lip caught between her teeth as he then quickly shed the rest of his clothes, not taking his eyes off of her once. Then, once he was naked and she could see how _excited_ he already was, he got back on the bed and this time she welcomed him with open arms.

_Oh yeah_, she thought as he hovered over her and kissed her long and deeply, _this was a good idea_.

* * *

He had need this night _so_ badly and he hadn't even known it.

The satin and lace of Summer's lingerie dragging across his increasingly sensitive skin, Bucky kissed her senseless and reveled in letting go and living in the moment. It was comforting, being this close to her and feeling his body take over and letting his instincts guide him, and the fact that she had dressed up like this for him only made it even better.

He wanted to make sure, above all else, that he properly thanked her for her efforts, so he made it a point to kiss down her body and touch her in the places he knew would make her shiver and crave more. He made his way down to her thighs, parting them and kissing the skin between the tops of her hose and her panties, and then he glanced up at her before taking the edge of one stocking between his teeth. He made a show of it, maintaining that eye contact as he jerked his head back and ripped the material free of the little garter snaps, and he was pretty sure that he heard her mutter a breathless _oh my God_. He smirked and then rolled the stocking from her leg with his fingers, removing the other next, and then he moved back up and pressed his lips to her stomach. She was already trembling a little bit, her hands on his shoulders urging him up as he slowly made his way back to her lips.

She kissed him with a low little moan and pulled him down against her, her legs winding around his hips holding them there as she rocked up against him. They stayed like that for a bit, just kissing and sliding together almost lazily, until the little sparks of pleasure weren't enough anymore and Summer maneuvered her way on top of him.

She reached behind her and unhooked her bra, dropping it to the floor and sighing quietly when his hands wasted no time in covering the newly exposed flesh. He squeezed and caressed them and then tensed when she ground herself deliberately slowly against him, telling her in a rough and heated voice, "Don't tease me."

"Yes sir," she smiled before leaning forward and laying one last kiss on his lips before taking her mouth down lower. She kissed and licked and nipped her way down his chest, across his abs and then stayed true to her word of not teasing him, gripping him first in her hand and then slowly taking him into her mouth. He might have protested, normally doing this first for her before she had a chance to do it to him, but he found that he couldn't speak or even think. He closed his eyes and let out a rough breath, flesh fingers going to her hair while his metal ones went to the hair on top of his own head.

She knew just how to give him exactly what he wanted, knew how to string him along and make him tighten his fingers in her hair and have to use all of his self control to not rock and thrust into her mouth. She did all of that work for him, making him feel so good and so carefree that it was all he could do to lay back and just take the pleasure she gave him.

_Fuck_ he'd needed this. He couldn't remember feeling that good in ages, certainly not before...

He clenched his eyes shut and told himself not to go down that road. Stay in the moment, stay focused. Don't let his mind drift, because if he did...

His eyes slowly opened and he gently tugged on Summer's hair until she lifted up and off of him, panting a little bit and flushed from her efforts. He pulled her up and kissed her, then flipped them so that she was on her back again. He shifted all of his focus off of himself and his own desires and on to her, determined to lose himself in her and keep his mind turned off the way that he needed it to be.

It was easy, focusing wholly on her and nothing else. She was so sensitive and easy to please, and he knew her like the back of his hand. He kissed every inch of her, taking his time and enjoying every moment of it, finally taking off her garter and the little scrap of panties that barely covered her and then burying his face between her thighs with a hungry groan.

_This_, he knew, he could do until exhaustion set in and he would be perfectly content. He absolutely loved it, loved everything about it and about _her_, especially the helpless way that she squirmed and moaned and then arched off the bed every time he pushed her over the edge. He didn't stop until the third time, and he only stopped then because she begged him to. He drew away, licking his lips and breathing hard, brushing the back of his hand over his mouth before he let her pull him back up and crash their lips together again.

After that, it was only seconds until she was bringing her legs back around his hips and then reaching between them, not breaking their kiss as she took him in her hand and guided him inside her. He _loved_ it when she did that, and he broke away from her lips with his eyes shut and a moan escaping his slightly open mouth. When he opened his eyes he found her smiling up at him, and he grinned back at her before starting to move and making her eyes roll shut in contentment.

She was tight and hot and _soaked_ around him, and his mind was blessedly blank as she moved with him and held on to him with both arms wrapped around him. He dropped his face down against her neck, his quiet but deep moans muffled against her skin, and as his instincts reigned once more, he kissed her neck and then sucked a possessive mark into the sensitive flesh. He licked over the spot after, and then he made the mistake of looking at it after he lifted up his head again.

It was a harmless little bruise, one that he'd intended to give her, but it was enough to make him suddenly recall in vivid detail how he had tossed her into a wall after waking up reverted to HYDRA's most recent programming. He blinked and tried to shake it off, but then his eyes drifted to her forehead where her still-healing cut was slowly becoming a scar under all the makeup she applied to it every day. It was definitely still there, unlike the enormous bruise that had since faded from her lower back.

He shut his eyes again and started moving faster. But that was also a mistake, because closing his eyes those days meant seeing things he didn't want to see.

Summer sunk just the tips of her nails into his back, and while that was normally something that would make him shiver with pleasure and want it harder, this time it made him cringe and falter for a moment. He didn't understand why, only that the brief moment of slight pain made his entire body feel hot in an unpleasant way.

She opened her eyes when he stopped, looking up to find his eyes closed and a look of intense concentration on his face.

"Hey," she said quietly, bringing one hand to the side of his face. "You okay?"

He nodded, briefly opening his eyes to look at her before he lifted up one of her legs higher and then got back to it. He tried to resume his previous pace and he told himself for the hundredth time to _stop fucking thinking_ and just feel, but now he couldn't get the image out of his head of Summer's body being flung into a glass cabinet and then hitting the floor, all by his own hand.

This time when he fell still again, it wasn't by his own choice, or Summer's either. He stopped because he physically couldn't continue, and _that_... well, he certainly felt hot again, and this time it was from sheer embarrassment.

They both laid there, frozen in place and stuck in a moment they'd never expected to be in. Summer looked down and then back up at Bucky, whose face was burning and who couldn't look her in the eyes. She stared at him in bewilderment and slight panic, having no idea what to do, and he didn't seem to be doing any better.

When he finally managed to glance up at her, he opened his mouth to speak but no words came out. He then looked away and eased off of her, and Summer was quick to follow him.

She put her hand on his chest and stopped him from bolting from the bed. "Hey, are you... are you okay, or..."

He still couldn't meet her eyes. She didn't wait for him to answer, instead turning his face towards hers and saying, "It's okay. Look at me. Do you... do you need me to do something? I can... try to..."

He stared at her helplessly, feeling absolutely humiliated and about as turned off as one could possibly feel. He shook his head. "I don't... no, I don't think anything's gonna..." He swallowed and looked away. "I'm sorry."

"No, no, don't be sorry, I... I understand," she said, the rushed tone of her voice and wide eyes giving away how desperately she was trying to diffuse the situation. "You're under a lot of stress, and... yeah." She paused. "It's stress... right?"

He honestly didn't know, and the longer that he spent sitting there next to her the worse and more embarrassed he felt. "Yeah," he nodded unconvincingly, brushing her hand off of his chest and then getting up.

Summer sat there in the bed, pulling up a sheet around her and staring as Bucky grabbed his clothes off of the floor. He gathered them up in his hands and then glanced back at her, again opening his mouth even though no words came out.

She didn't say anything either. They both stared at one another in an awkward state of uncomfortable silence before Bucky looked away and took refuge in the bathroom, leaving Summer there to stare after him and wonder _what the hell_ had just happened to them.

* * *

The following morning, Bucky was downstairs in therapy while Summer got the kids up and fed. He had been gone before she had woken up, and after the previous night's events, that didn't surprise her one bit. He had gone off somewhere else in the tower following the whole... incident, and he only came back to bed once the kids were back and they were all asleep.

The very minute the kids were sitting and eating happily, Summer plunked herself down at the table in the seat next to a coffee-sipping Natasha and whisper-yelled, "I need to talk to you."

Natasha looked away from her phone and eyed Summer without a hint of surprise. "Ready to tell me why you weren't a big ball of bliss when we brought the kids back last night?"

After blowing out a long and tired breath, Summer replied, "I don't even know where to start."

"Was Operation Date Night not a success?"

"I mean... most of it was," Summer said, glancing at Adelaide as she shoved a handful of Cheerios into her mouth. Then she turned back to Nat and said, "He loved the dinner, and he seemed to really like dancing, but then..."

Natasha raised an eyebrow and paused with her coffee mug halfway to her mouth. "What?"

Cringing and blushing with reborn embarrassment, Summer glanced around to make sure no other Avengers had wandered into the room. "Well, at first everything was fine. The uh... the lingerie was a big hit," she said quietly. "Everything was fine at first. Normal, super hot, he was really into it, I was about to scream my head off -"

"Right," Natasha nodded, urging her to get to the point.

"Right, so then right towards the end when we're... you know..."

Natasha almost rolled her eyes. "Yeah?"

Summer gestured vaguely with her hands and then made a face of pure dismay. "He just..."

"He what?"

"He... lost... _motivation_ to... um... finish."

Whatever Natasha had been expecting, it wasn't that. She appeared legitimately surprised. "_Oh_."

Summer nodded, face bright and voice still barely audible. "I feel bad for telling you because I know he'd probably kill me, but if I don't tell someone I'm gonna go crazy overthinking and convince myself that it was my fault and that he's not into me anymore, which I _know_ isn't true but -"

"Okay, slow down," Natasha said, raising her hand in the universal sign for _chill _and then following Summer's example of speaking so low that David couldn't hear a word they were saying_. _"So what you're telling me is everything went great until the very end?"

Summer nodded. "Yeah. Like he was very into it." She paused. "Until he wasn't."

"Stress can do that to a man," Natasha pointed out. "And he's under a _lot_ of stress. I'm sure going through that was humiliating for you both, but..."

"I know," Summer sighed, "but I just feel so _stupid_ now. I just... it's _Bucky_, you know? With everything we've been through, _that_ part of things has never changed. Ever. And I figured... I just thought that it was a no-brainer. Like a way to get his mind off of everything, but all I did was make everything worse. And I can't even describe to you how awkward it was."

Natasha, so unflappable most of the time, cringed herself a bit. "I don't doubt it."

"I'm just so stupid," Summer groaned.

"Well, it's not like you could have predicted that kind of thing," Natasha replied. "Did something happen to... kill the mood?"

"I've been going over every last detail in my head and I just don't know," Summer replied with a shrug. "I don't think so. But I know he was looking at my forehead right around when it happened. So for all I know he either got scared that he was gonna hurt me or he was thinking about what happened before. I don't know."

"Look," Nat said, "you can't blame yourself for that. Don't do that to yourself. You know better than anyone what his head's been like ever since he testified."

"I really don't though," she sighed. "He hardly tells me anything. He won't open up to me anymore, especially not about his memories."

Natasha furrowed her brows. "Oh. I didn't know that."

Summer leaned back in her seat and glanced at David's plate, reminding him to put down his tablet and eat the rest of his food before she turned back to Nat and said, "I get it if he doesn't want to tell me everything. I can't even imagine what all he remembers and I'm not gonna push him. But I've never had to tiptoe around him like this and after last night... you know me and how awkward and stupid I am. I'm gonna make an idiot out of myself."

"Just try to calm down. It's not the end of the world," Natasha pointed out. "With everything that you guys are going through, it's bound to cause some problems here and there." Her phone made a quiet noise then, and as she unlocked it to find out what it was, Summer turned back to her own half-eaten breakfast and resumed her previous task of overthinking until she was blue in the face.

She just felt so _bad_ about it all. The look that had been on his face when he had left her there in bed and got away from her as fast as he could was burned into her memory. He had been _so_ embarrassed and so frustrated, and the fact that whatever was going on in his head was enough to trump his serum-enhanced bloodflow and stamina was... well... it was _new_, that was for sure.

"Oh boy," Natasha said, holding up her phone so Summer could see the screen. "Look what just hit the Internet."

"Oh no, what is it this time?" Summer asked, expecting the worst as a video loaded. The Internet was certainly a thing to be feared lately, but to Summer's relief, this time it was a good surprise that popped up.

She blinked as Thor of all people appeared on the screen, with Steve, Sam, and Wanda behind him. They all appeared to be outside the tower, and Thor was speaking into several microphones held by random reporters.

"Yes, I would be happy to give my opinion, thank you for asking," Thor said, looking rather unhappy as he glared into the camera. "I left this realm some time ago and returned to my home to see to the welfare of my people, and today I return to find out that while I have been gone, one of my friends has been charged with crimes that he is not responsible for. At first I thought it was a joke, because humans are surely more advanced than this, but it is true. I still cannot believe what I have been told."

Summer's eyes widened, and David quickly moved to her side to watch as soon as he heard Thor's voice. "Is this from today? Is he _here_?"

"This was posted five minutes ago," Natasha replied with a small smile.

"What kind of justice is it to force a man to pay for crimes he did not commit of his own will?" Thor asked. "I know James Barnes, and he is a good man. He is a brave warrior and a _father_, and after all that he sacrificed in the name of your country, you people repay him like this? This is a disgrace! And anyone who's had a hand in this supposed _trial_ should be ashamed."

A slightly muffled voice of a reporter then asked, "So you believe that he's innocent and that he should be a free man, even though he killed one of our own Presidents?"

"Yes, that is exactly what I believe," Thor replied unapologetically. "I love this realm and I love its people, but this is a stain on your history. It is outrageous. It is cowardice, not justice, and the people of this land should not stand for it. I certainly won't."

With that, Thor and the others turned away from the camera, the video came to an end. Summer looked at Natasha with wide eyes. "_Holy fricking crap_."

"That was unexpected," Natasha grinned, and then when the sound of the elevators opening reached their ears, they both knew who they would see walking out. And sure enough, there was Thor heading their way, joined by the others seen in the video plus Tony.

David was off and running his way with an excited little squeal. Summer was smiling like an idiot, heart touched by the rousing defense of Bucky that Thor had just given _very_ publicly, and she and Natasha both got up to greet their returning friend as David launched himself at him.

"Ah, my little friend!" Thor grinned as he bent and gave the very excited boy a hug. "Look at you! You've been growing far too quickly, you must stop this."

David giggled and squeezed him back, and with Adelaide in her arms, Summer headed their way with a giant smile on her face. As soon as Thor straightened up and looked her way, he opened his arms wide for what was sure to be a brutal hug and walked the rest of the way to her. "I've heard the terrible news. I am so sorry, Lady Summer."

Pretty sure she'd never get used to being called Lady anything, she smiled back and then braced herself for the coming hug. As she predicted, he almost squeezed the life out of her. "Thank you. And I just saw your video! You didn't have to do that."

Thor tried to pull away, but Adelaide had reached out and grabbed one of his braids during the hug. Summer chuckled and uncurled her little hand from his hair as Thor replied, "Nonsense. I can barely contain my anger over what I have heard." He then looked at Adelaide and smiled brightly. "Look at this little one! The last time I saw you, you were a tiny little thing."

"I know," Summer sighed. "The time's just flown by."

Watching the reunion with his hands in his pockets, Tony chimed in, "You know, this kid's seen you exactly twice, Thor, and yet she sits here giving you the goo-goo eyes. I see her almost every day and she still won't even high five me."

"Yes, well, that is the least confusing mystery of all," Thor grinned at Tony.

"Well, it's good to have you back," Natasha said, holding up her phone so the others could see. "And look what the top story is on every single national news outlet."

Steve looked and then remarked, "Well, at least it's our side making news today."

"And in a good way for once," Sam added.

"Bucky's gonna be grateful for your support," Summer told Thor sincerely.

"Well, I am happy to give it. Where is he?"

"He's downstairs in one of the spare office rooms," Steve replied, "talking to his therapist."

"Ah. Is he well?"

Steve glanced at Summer briefly before answering, "He's hanging in there. He just recently got all of his memories back, thanks to her," he jerked his head towards Wanda. "The prosecutor used an old shutdown code on him that knocked him out and made him wake up thinking he was still with HYDRA. He didn't recognize any of us, so she had to get in his head and bring him back."

Thor looked at Wanda, then at Steve and back to Summer. "They did _what_ to him?"

Summer sighed and nodded. "It's been a pretty bad time."

"Well, if there is anything I can do, anything at all," Thor told her, "I will be happy to help in anyway that I can."

"If we ever want to scold the media again, we'll definitely know who to call," Tony remarked, patting Thor's enormous shoulder. "You basically put half the country in time-out."

That made Summer laugh a bit, and then she heard the elevators ding again. She looked up and then felt a bit of her anxiety return at the sight of Bucky stepping off, but he wasn't alone. Matt and Foggy were with him, having intercepted him on his way out of therapy, and they were all three talking amongst themselves enough to not really notice the Asgardian royalty in their midst. At least not until Foggy looked up halfway there and then suddenly stopped in his tracks and said, "Oh my God, that's _Thor_."

Thor turned at the mention of his name and then turned his bright smile back on. Foggy stared with wide eyes and suddenly clutched Matt's arm for balance, as if he might faint. Bucky, meanwhile, looked slightly confused. "Oh. Hi."

"Hello, my friend," Thor said, stepping closer to him and surprising him with a hug that Bucky somewhat awkwardly returned. "I am sorry to hear what is happening to you. It is a disgrace."

"Yeah," Bucky nodded after the hug ended, muttering quietly. "Thanks. Didn't know you were back."

"I've only just returned today," Thor replied. He then glanced at Foggy, who was still staring, and he smiled. "Hello."

Foggy visibly swallowed and then waved. _Waved_. "... Hi."

Summer stepped in at that point, smiling, "This is Foggy Nelson and Matt Murdock, our lawyers. They're absolutely brilliant and wonderful."

"Oh," Thor said, happily reaching out to shake their hands. "Very nice to meet you both."

"You as well, sir," Matt replied calmly while Foggy very unsubtly marveled at how very huge and majestic the man before them was. Of course, nobody could blame him one bit. He was _Thor_, after all.

"Thor here gave the press the soundbite of the year about fifteen minutes ago," Natasha said, handing her phone to Bucky with the video pulled up. He pushed play, and Matt and Foggy both listened as the video played.

"I was holding back," Thor mentioned to Steve and Tony. "I could have been much less forgiving."

"Well, probably better that way," Tony replied. "Defending someone is one thing. Scaring the pants off of an entire country's another." Thor laughed at that.

After the video was over, Bucky handed the phone back to Natasha and quietly said to Thor, "You didn't have to do that."

"Your lady said the same thing," Thor chuckled. "And I will say the same thing to you that I said to her. Nonsense."

"Thank you," Bucky told him sincerely, seemingly unable to say much else. He was distracted, Summer could tell that much. She assumed that his therapy session hadn't been particularly pleasant.

"Of course," Thor nodded.

"That'll keep the press busy for awhile," Matt said. "And I think it'll only help to have a god on our side."

Thor laughed. "I am no god, but I appreciate the sentiment."

"Could you maybe sign something for me?" Foggy asked with a nervous smile. "Well, for my mom. Not for me."

Matt sighed, and Steve grinned as Thor laughed and happily obliged. Sam produced a pen, and as Foggy tried to rein in his inner fangirl, a Adelaide shimmied out of Summer's arms so that she could go and run to Matt and clutch at his legs as she babbled at him. He grinned and then knelt down in front of her, saying "Hi, little girl," and then laughing when she giggled and, like every other baby in existence loved doing to others, ripped off his glasses from his face.

Tony lifted his arms and dropped them, watching the latest display of Adelaide's inexplicable and instant love for the lawyer. "Seriously, what the fu-"

"Language," Steve quickly admonished, gesturing to the children in their midst.

Tony rolled his eyes and scoffed. "Fine. Fudge. What the fudge. Better, _Dad_?"

Natasha's eyes widened momentarily before she teasingly said, "Careful, we don't want anyone on the Internet to know that Tony Stark likes to call Steve Rogers _daddy_ from time to time."

Steve groaned while Tony held up a hand and said, "I said _dad_, not _daddy_, Miss Filthy Mind." Then, never one to lose an opportunity to torture Steve, he looked his way and then added, "Although if you're into that sort of thing..."

As Steve tried - and failed - to get Tony to shut up and Matt played with Adelaide and tried to get his glasses back from her, Summer followed after Bucky when he slipped away from the group to head into the kitchen. He headed straight for the coffeemaker, and from just behind him, Summer chirped, "I just made that a little awhile ago, so it's still good."

He glanced over his shoulder at her briefly and gave the smallest of nods before grabbing a cup from one of the cabinets and continuing on without a word. She fidgeted a little bit and leaned against the counter and asked as he poured the coffee into his cup, "How was therapy?"

He didn't look at her, but his jaw clenched a little. "Fine."

Chewing on her lip and desperately trying to think of ways to bury the awkwardness between them deep enough for them to be able to ignore it, she replied, "I've got today off, so if you wanted I could find us some movies to watch, or... just do whatever you feel like doing."

Cup of coffee in hand, he turned around and looked over towards the group of people getting on rather loudly, both of his kids occupied and happy with them, and Bucky shrugged. "I'm just gonna go to our room for awhile."

"Okay," she nodded. "Are you hungry? I could bring you some food."

He shrugged again, still barely even looking at her. "No, I'm fine."

"Are you sure because there's still leftover coffee cake and..."

He shook his head and then turned away to start heading out. Feeling an irrational need to keep asking him to let her care for him until he gave in, she followed after him and said, "Well, if you need anything just... text me I guess."

He nodded again without looking back, halfway to their room with her still following. "Yeah."

Once he reached their door, she said his name in a slightly nervous way that made him turn around slowly and look at her with such unhidden irritation that it made her stop in her tracks.

But she was already apparently on his nerves, so why not make it count? "Are you okay?" she asked him quietly, aware that it was a stupid question, but she couldn't help it.

He rolled his eyes. "No. No, I'm not fucking okay."

The bite in his tone didn't surprise her, but it did make the nervous feeling in her gut even worse. "I just... I just want to help."

He opened the door and then muttered, "I know. But I don't think you can." Then he walked inside and closed the door behind him, and Summer closed her eyes and let her head drop back in despair.

_God_, how she hated everything.

* * *

Later that day, Loki the cat met Thor and gave him a reception that was oddly suited to that of his namesake. The minute that the kitty wandered out into the common area and spotted the Asgardian visitor, he seemed to form an immediate and rather strong bond that Summer found hilarious, almost as hilarious as Thor found the kitty's name. The cat curled up in Thor's lap and purred happily for a very long time, and whenever Thor tried to put him down, little Loki would hiss and smack him as if to say _I love you, you idiot, now stop trying to move me_. As a result, Thor spent quite a long time with the cat on his lap.

Bucky, meanwhile, stayed holed up in his room until he decided to go and do his best to spar his frustration out. He didn't go alone, and after he managed to best Natasha, Steve, and even _Thor_ due simply to his sheer amount of energy and obvious anger and aggression, Steve in particular was left feeling rather concerned for his friend's state of mind.

There was a ledge outside of their floor, on the other side of a window near the living area, and it was the same little ledge that Summer had given herself a heart attack over by sitting next to Bucky on it several years earlier. It was the closest thing to a balcony that Bucky was allowed to sit on, since his house arrest agreement didn't allow him to go up to the roof or anywhere else for fresh air, so it was where he went sometimes to breathe and be alone.

Steve _hated_ it when he went out there. Every time he saw Bucky go out there, he'd see flashbacks of Bucky falling from the train into the abyss below, and he wouldn't be able to properly relax until Bucky came back in. When he went out on that ledge that night in particular, however, Steve decided that he'd go out there and sit with him to save himself the angst of waiting inside. Plus, Bucky was clearly struggling and Steve wanted to help in any way that he could.

Slipping outside and making Bucky look up in mild surprise, Steve made it a point not to look down as he sat down and held on to the railing. Then he glanced at the cigarette in Bucky's right hand and muttered, "You know those things'll still kill you, right?"

Bucky replied by holding up the pack of cigarettes that had been lying next to his leg. "This is the same pack you gave me like three years ago." He then flipped it open, peered inside, and said, "And I've still got three left."

"Oh," Steve chuckled. "Fair enough." He then looked out at the skyline, all the buildings clustered together at his feet, and he said, "Thor seems to be fine even though you almost knocked one of his teeth out."

Staring at the half-smoked cigarette in his hand rather than finishing it, Bucky muttered, "I didn't mean to hit him that hard."

"Well," Steve noted, "he's Asgardian, not invincible. And your metal arm can punch through pavement. But like I said, he's fine. And impressed."

"But you're worried," Bucky said, this time bringing the cigarette back to his lips. He blew the smoke out aimed as far away from Steve as he could, as if he still had the ailments that the smoke would have aggravated.

"I'm just here to talk if you want to," Steve replied. "And if you don't, then I'll sit here until you go back in and I can stop picturing you falling off of this thing."

_That_ made Bucky pause. He looked down at the considerable distance that stretched between them to the street below, and then he muttered, "Sorry. Only place I can sit that's not inside."

"Yeah, I know."

After a few beats of silence, Bucky furrowed his brows and said, "I thought I was done with this."

"Done with what?"

"Having my head fucked with," Bucky replied. "Having _them_ in my head again. For awhile, I thought..." He smiled humorlessly. "I thought I'd beat them. But obviously I was wrong."

"What's going on?" Steve asked, as gently as he possibly could.

"My arm hurts," Bucky said, gesturing to his metal one. "I mean, it doesn't _actually_ hurt, I know that. But now that I can remember, I can feel the damn bonesaw and the fucking... all of it. It hurts like I'm still laying there watching them do it."

Steve grimaced, hurting _for_ him. "You tell the doc about that?"

"Connor? Yeah," Bucky shrugged. "He helps, I guess, but I am just so fucking sick of this."

"I know," Steve said sadly. "And having to relive everything through the trial... I know. You shouldn't have to go through this."

"It's screwing everything up," Bucky said. "_Everything_. I can't even..." He clammed up then, all but slamming his mouth shut before angrily taking the last draw of the cigarette and putting it out. "Feel like they're taking everything away from me again. Can't even function."

Steve furrowed his brows, unaware of the details behind that statement and certainly not able to piece anything together just from those words. "I know this is hard, and it's too much. But there's still hope. And we've gotta keep fighting."

Bucky looked at him then, anger in his eyes that wasn't directed at Steve or anyone else in the tower, and he shot back, "How would you feel if you hurt Natasha like I hurt Summer? I can't sleep 'cause I'm afraid I'm gonna wake up and forget everything again. Then when I do sleep I either dream of all the people I killed or of killing Summer or you or..." His expression crumpled a little and he looked away, misery etched plain as day in his face.

"... Or what?" Steve asked, scared to know the answer.

Bucky took a moment before shaking his head and saying through gritted teeth, "Last night it was Addie. And I could hear her crying like it was real and see it on her face and..."

"God, _Bucky_," Steve said in quiet horror.

"What am I supposed to do?" Bucky asked, more rhetorically than anything. "I can't sleep. I can't think. I can't go outside, can't go on missions. Can't even stay out of my own head long enough to..." He trailed off and then said, "You know last night Summer had this whole thing set up for us, did it all to get my mind off everything. Dinner, dancing, like a whole date but inside the tower."

"Yeah," Steve nodded. He'd helped facilitate that date by taking the kids with Natasha.

"And even that didn't work," Bucky grumbled. "She tried so hard and I still couldn't..." He shook his head, fists clenched at his lap like he wanted to deck somebody, probably himself.

"Don't be so hard on yourself," Steve said, still oblivious to the details. "She knows what you're going through."

"Not really, no, because I keep pushing her away," Bucky replied. "I haven't told her anything. Every time she tries to help or get me to talk I just... I can't get away fast enough. And I want to enjoy what time I've still got with her, but -"

"Don't talk like that," Steve replied. "The trial's not over."

Bucky merely shook his head, staring out at the night without really seeing anything. "Might as well be."

Steve sighed and leaned closer, shaking his head. "No. That's not true. You can't give up. You give up and then you _will_ lose."

"And if I don't," Bucky said quietly, as if he didn't want to be saying what he was, "if I get off but I'm still a mess..."

"You'll get better," Steve replied. "You will. It'll get better. You're a survivor. You'll keep surviving."

After a moment, Bucky let out a short, harsh chuckle and muttered while staring at his hands, "Wish I could believe that as easily as you can."

"Well," Steve sighed, "one day you will. Once all this is over and behind us... you will."

Bucky glanced up at Steve then and chided him, "You're a real sap."

"Yep," Steve grinned. "Now can we please go back inside?"

Bucky nodded, picking up the old pack of cigarettes and lighter. Steve went back in first, and as Bucky followed him in off of the ledge, he hoped that Steve was right. But he just couldn't help but fear that he wasn't, and that he knew exactly how all of this was going to turn out in the end.

* * *

Later that night, after everyone else had gone to bed, Summer had been asleep for about an hour when the bed shifting with new weight slowly woke her up. Her eyes cracked open and she glanced behind herself just as a warm, familiar body laid next to her.

"Go back to sleep," Bucky whispered, slipping his right arm around her waist and pulling her against him. She groaned softly and laid her head back down, melting sleepily against him and letting out a deep breath at the comforting feeling of being in his arms.

He pressed a soft, chaste kiss on her neck, and she closed her eyes as she murmured, "I'm sorry."

She could _feel_ the way that he paused. "Sorry for what?" he asked quietly.

She briefly opened her eyes as she replied, "Just... everything. I've been making things worse."

"No, no, sweetheart," he whispered, holding her a little more tightly. "No you haven't. It's me. It's... everything."

"I just want you to be happy again," she said, closing her eyes against a sudden threat of tears building behind them. Being half asleep, she had very little filter and she knew that she should shut up, but she didn't. "I can't stand seeing you suffer."

"Shh," he hushed her, kissing her neck again. "Don't... don't do that, just... close your eyes." She nodded, sniffing back tears and prompting him to add more quietly, "_Please_ don't cry."

It was hard, but she didn't. She forced the tears back down and kept her eyes closed, listening to the sound of his breathing and taking comfort in his embrace as she slowly but eventually drifted back towards her slumber.

"I love you," he told her softly, just before she fell back asleep. "No matter what happens, I love you."

Those words scared her more than comforted her, but she didn't let it show. She breathed in and breathed out quietly before snuggling closer to him and saying the only words that she could say in that moment.

"I love you too."


	62. Chapter 62

**A/N: okay so, due to some unexpected downtime, I managed to write another chapter sooner than I thought I would lol. It's a leeeeetle bit shorter than my usual chapters, but that's just the way the cookie crumbled this time around. I have no idea when I'll have the next chapter ready, and it might be awhile since soon I'm gonna be back to having no writing time, but I promise that it'll be up as soon as I can manage it. Thank you guys so much for your reviews and follows and general amazingness, I love you all SO MUCH. Also big huge thanks to midnightwings96 who is as fabulous, helpful, and brilliant as ever, 100% of the time :D I love you guys and I'll see you as soon as I can! :D **

Mid-morning after the kids had been picked up by Paul and taken to his house for the day, Summer found herself in a dilemma. The fact that it was a dilemma at all was rather depressing, but she had to play with the cards that she had been dealt and those cards were rather frustrating as of late.

She was in her and Bucky's bedroom, standing just outside of the bathroom door and listening to him get in the shower. They had a big day ahead of them with the trial back in full swing, and today was going to be one of the roughest days yet. The prosecution was calling Brock Rumlow to the witness stand, and considering the fact that he was the reason why the trial was happening in the first place - in addition to being a very familiar face from Bucky's days as HYDRA's captive - it was going to be a tense day, to say the very least.

Thus Summer's dilemma. They had to leave for the courthouse soon, and she needed to take a shower as well. In fact, if she waited for Bucky to get done, she ran the risk of running late and that was _not_ an option. So the obvious solution was to jump in the shower with him and conserve both time and water, but that idea wasn't nearly as simple as it had once been. Not now that being naked in an intimate setting with him was almost out of the question.

Ever since the embarrassing end to Summer's attempted home date night, Bucky had barely touched her and she was afraid to even try to touch him. There were the regular pecks on the lips and she always managed to find a way to snuggle in his arms every night as they slept, but there was nothing more between them. If she even looked at him for too long or tried to drag out a kiss or two, it made him run the other way sometimes almost literally. He was terrified of failing again and she was terrified of making his mental state even worse, so she kept her distance and gave him space.

But now she had to break that habit if she wanted to remain on schedule. So, with a deep breath and a prayer that she wouldn't manage to screw it up, she pushed open the bathroom door and then stepped through it, eyes immediately darting to the blurry silhouette of her husband through the walls of the enclosed shower. She then closed the door quietly behind her and tried to shake off her nerves, telling herself to _just do it_ as she pulled her hair out of its ponytail and started getting her clothes off.

The compromising of their physical relationship was a particular cruelty for them both. While sexual dysfunction was in all objectivity the least important problem that they faced, it was simply the icing on a horrible, miserable cake. It was hell on a woman with Summer's insecurities and even more hell on a man like Bucky who felt as if he was losing control of himself to his former captors yet again. The physical aspect of their relationship had always come so easily, so effortlessly, and without it, nothing else was the same either. Tack on the fact that Bucky was still not confiding in her and that their communication was also suffering, and their relationship was unarguably at the lowest point that it had ever seen.

Painfully aware of this, Summer did her best to put those thoughts aside and, once her clothes had all been shed, she pulled open the shower door and peered inside before stepping in. He was standing with his back to her, water cascading down his broad shoulders and back and pooling at his feet, and he was so pretty that it never failed to make her heart ache a little. She knew that he had heard her coming from the moment she walked inside the bathroom, so she wasn't surprised that he didn't turn to look at her. She expected him to stay just where he was, metal hand resting on the wall and head slightly bowed so the water could soak his hair, and that was what he did as she walked towards him.

Pressing herself against his back, she slid her arms around his waist and then laid her head on the back of his right shoulder, embracing him sweetly and silently. He acknowledged her by raising his head and placing his hand over both of hers where they were joined along his middle, and she felt him release a deep breath.

Then he turned around in her arms, and she looked up to meet his gaze far more shyly than she wanted to. His expression was unreadable aside from the usual burdened heaviness that was always present in his eyes, but she felt a nudge of encouragement when both of his hands went to her waist and he leaned down to kiss her. It was a soft, innocent kiss, but it lingered a bit longer than their usual ones did. Even more promisingly, when she slid her hands up into his wet hair and kissed him again, a little bit longer and deeper, he didn't stop her or pull away.

But she didn't want to push her luck, so she gently broke the kiss and then turned them around so that she could get fully under the shower's warm spray. With him facing her and his eyes fully on her, she tipped her head back and got her waist-length black hair wet, reaching up both hands to push it back and out of her face. She knew how the motions lifted up her breasts and the view that it gave him, and while she _hoped_ that he enjoyed it, she didn't expect it. She wasn't trying to seduce him or lure him into any kind of encounter, but she hoped that he at least still found her attractive. In her lower, less rational moments, she sometimes wondered about that.

But it was hard to believe that he found her anything but desirable when he looked at her the way that he was, like she was utterly gorgeous and like he couldn't stand to look at anything _but_ her. She stepped away from the water as she lathered her hair up, letting him get back underneath the water, and he didn't take his eyes off of her once. They switched back and forth silently, eyes on each other and occasionally brushing up against each other or otherwise innocently touching as they rinsed off, and then they both paused when they ran out of things to wash and reasons to stay busy.

Summer was the one currently under the still-beautifully hot water when they fell still, and she felt a nervous thrill run through her veins when Bucky took a step closer to her and reached both of his hands to her face. He pulled her close, flush against him, and then he kissed her with a passion that she hadn't experienced since the date night gone wrong.

She melted into his kiss and into his arms, her body all but singing for him as it molded to the hard planes and lines of his larger one. She wrapped her arms around his neck and opened her mouth to welcome his tongue as he let his hands wander, the metal of his left slick with warm water as it slid from her back to her upper thigh and back again, and for awhile, everything was perfect again. They were warm and pressed together and _touching_ and she was soaking up every last minute of it.

But they didn't have much time to waste, and soon - _much_ too soon - Summer noticed something that made her heart sink. Throughout all of their deep, thorough kissing and intimate, sensual touches, none of it was apparently enough to _rouse_ him. There was no hiding it, not with the way that she was pressed to him _everywhere_, and that sent her on a mission to do everything she could to help him along.

She kissed his neck and sucked and nipped at his most sensitive places, ground her hips into his and made sure that every time he did something to make her feel good, she would moan and let him know. He groped at her breasts and kissed the hell out of her, holding her nearly tight enough to hurt, but when she opened her eyes and took a good look at his face, she could see how much it was _killing_ him to not be even half ready for what they were heading towards.

She couldn't go on like that. Even if they'd had the time, every second that went by felt more and more like torture and less like a pleasurable experience between two lovers. He was so determined to make it work but it just wasn't, and when she finally stopped kissing him and put her hands on his chest to put some distance between them, her ears were burning with embarrassment and growing panic.

"Bucky, this isn't... it's..."

"Come here," he said simply, tugging her close again and kissing her skillfully enough to almost make her forget why she'd stopped in the first place.

She broke the kiss and shook her head. "But -"

"Shh," he urged her, turning her so that her back was to his chest. He pulled her tight against him and dropped his lips down to her neck, right hand snaking between her legs as he murmured, "I can still take care of you."

She closed her eyes and felt her heart just about break apart. He was trying so hard, so very hard, and his lips on her neck and fingers playing expertly felt wonderful, but... she couldn't properly enjoy it unless he was too. And the fact that she could feel how very little he was enjoying himself ruined any chance she had of even wanting to try anymore.

She put her hand on his wrist to stop him. "Stop. I can't..." she shook her head, "I can't do this if you're not into it too."

"I'm sorry," he muttered almost brokenly near her ear, his tone full of embarrassment and disappointment in himself. "Just... just let me get you off. _Please_." He kissed her under her ear and cupped a breast with his metal hand. "I can still do _that_."

She suddenly felt as if she might cry, hearing his voice sound like that and listening to him beg her to let him feel like he wasn't completely useless or non-functional. She couldn't deny him, so she let go of his wrist and did her very best to let go and let him take her where he couldn't go himself.

But only another moment or two proved that idea as futile as the last. The mood was ruined yet again and her mindset was nowhere near what it needed to be, so she once again took his wrist and stopped him, this time with a whispered, "I'm sorry, I'm... I can't do it. I'm trying but I..."

This time he didn't fight her. His entire body went still for a moment before he drew his hand away and then, to her surprise, turned away from her with a curse that wasn't in English. He left her standing there like that, all but storming out of the shower and leaving her to stand there under water that was now lukewarm and almost as unpleasant as what they had just experienced.

She reached up and flipped the water off, shivering a little and trying her best not to cry. It didn't work, however, and a few tears escaped as she stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel to dry off and warm up with.

She should have just waited. She shouldn't have gotten in the shower with him and allowed such a situation to occur. She heaped all of the blame on herself and then went out to the bedroom to check on him and make sure he wasn't breaking things.

He wasn't. He was sitting on the edge of their bed instead, a towel on his hips and his elbows on his knees as he stared miserably into nothing.

She lingered cautiously in the bathroom doorway for a moment or two before making herself step forward. He didn't look her way once as she came closer, stopping once she was near but still far enough away to give him some space before she quietly said his name.

"Don't," was all that he said.

Holding her towel tight under her arms, she sighed and said, "Just tell me what to do. Tell me how I can help you because I don't know and I'm..."

His eyes snapped up to hers. "You think I've got the slightest fucking clue?"

The bite in his tone made her shiver in a distinctly unpleasant way. She looked down and closed her eyes briefly, feeling words starting to make their way to the tip of her tongue despite her best efforts to shove them back down. "Is it me? Is it just... are you just not... do you not want me like that anymore? You have all your memories back now and maybe you just don't feel the same anymore?"

She didn't know what felt worse, the way that it felt saying those words out loud and voicing fears she'd barely even acknowledged to herself, or the way that he stared at her as if it was some kind of great betrayal to even think such a thing.

"_That's_ what you think?" he asked with sheer disbelief.

She swallowed nervously and shrugged, "I don't know what I think. But before, the last time, you were able to at least... get started, and now I can't even get you -"

He suddenly stood up, the unexpected movement cutting off her words mid-sentence. He looked _angry_. "Dammit Summer, _shut up."_

She blinked at him in shock. She wasn't sure that he'd ever spoken to her like that, in so angry and bitter a tone.

"All this time and you still revert to this," he said, waving a hand in her direction. "It's getting old. I've got too much other shit going on to have to worry about you and holding your hand and fucking convincing you over and over that I love you."

His words cut deep, especially considering that the last thing she wanted to be was a burden on him when he already had the weight of the world on his shoulders. "That's not... that not what I'm asking you for."

"Then what?" he asked impatiently.

"I just want to know what I'm doing wrong," she admitted in a small voice.

"Nothing," he replied instantly. "None of this has anything to do with you, Summer. Not a damn thing."

"How?" her eyebrows furrowed. "How can it have nothing to do with me when it directly involves me?"

"Because you're not in my head," he replied. "You have no idea what I remember and what I spend every minute of every day wishing I could forget."

"Then tell me," she all but begged, stepping closer and looking at him pleadingly.

He merely stood his ground, looking at her hard and shaking his head. "No."

"_Why_?" she half-shouted. "This isn't like you. You've always told me everything - how else are we supposed to get through this? I can't help you if you don't let me."

"I don't want your help," he replied stubbornly.

"Then what _do_ you want?" she asked a bit desperately. "What the hell do you want from me? You won't let me in, won't talk to me, you barely kiss me, you can't sleep with me anymore. I'm barely even a wife to you right now."

"Maybe that's a good thing," he said with a smile that was completely humorless and fully bitter. "You should get used to it now, 'cause when they put me away none of this is gonna matter anymore. The kids'll forget me and you won't _have_ a husband anymore." The bitterness and anger faded into sadness and self-loathing as he then added, "Should have done you all a favor and never even met you in the first place."

With that, he turned on his heel and left her standing there with her mouth agape and tears burning behind her eyes. She couldn't believe what she had just heard, and she was too saddened and too shocked to fully grasp it and certainly too blindsided to say anything back. He grabbed a suit from their closet and then went back inside the bathroom with the door slamming shut behind him, and for a few very long, very painful moments, Summer lost all hope for the future.

She didn't know that Bucky was way ahead of her and had already lost his own hopes some time ago.

* * *

A few hours later, sitting in the courtroom that had become hideously familiar over the last several months, Bucky kept his features entirely expressionless and blank as he watched Brock Rumlow swear on a Bible to tell the truth under questioning. He didn't know what was more laughable, the thought of Rumlow displaying nothing but honesty or touching a Bible without spontaneously bursting into flames.

Nonetheless, Bucky made it his personal mission to keep all emotions and potential reactions hidden under the surface for his own sake. It was bad enough that this was happening at all, but if he let his anger and rage that he felt towards Rumlow show in any shape or form, it would only give Rumlow a sense of satisfaction that he didn't deserve. And Bucky refused to give him that.

So, he sat there and watched impassively and didn't even flinch when Rumlow took a seat at the witness stand and looked right at him. Bucky stared right back, and Rumlow only looked away once the new prosecutor began to speak.

Katherine Campbell had taken over for Richard Strong following his censure from the court, and she was just as accomplished of an attorney as he had been. She appeared nonthreatening and even friendly on the outside, but she was nothing short of a shark in the courtroom and she looked at Matt and Foggy like they were particularly small and vulnerable fish.

"Mr. Rumlow," she began, approaching the witness stand as she spoke, "you are a convicted domestic terrorist who has been found guilty of multiple counts of murder, attempted murder, arson, treason, and obstruction of justice, among other charges. Correct?"

"Yes, ma'am," he replied, not showing one ounce of feeling in regard to anything that she had just said. He glanced again at Bucky, and then for just a brief second, he looked at Summer as she sat just behind Bucky in the gallery. He quickly looked away, but not before Summer's heart sank and her own anger spiked at having made eye contact with the man who had destroyed her grandmother's home and nearly killed her and David more than once, not to mention also given the Feds the information on her that led to this trial happening in the first place.

But she and Bucky both maintained their deceptively calm masks. They had to.

"During your time working as a SHIELD agent in Washington, you were recruited early on by HYDRA and became one of their highest ranked agents, correct?"

Rumlow nodded again. "Yes ma'am, that is correct."

"When did you first gain knowledge of HYDRA's secret asset, the Winter Soldier?"

Rumlow thought for a moment before replying, "Well, only the guys at the very top knew about him. Took me awhile to get there, so I'd say... somewhere around 2010."

Sitting next to Summer in the gallery, Steve clenched his jaw and let the furrow in his brows deepen. The entire time that he'd known Brock and worked alongside him - the entire time that Steve had worked for SHIELD - Rumlow had known that Bucky was in a freezer in a secret underground lab across town. There was a special place in hell reserved for such a man, and Steve would believe nothing else.

"And you became one of his handlers?" Campbell asked.

"I accompanied him on several missions, yes," Rumlow nodded. "For the most part he worked alone, but I led his support team and shadowed him, provided transport and backup, made sure he reported back to HQ immediately after mission completion."

"And were you aware of the Soldier's identity the entire time that you worked with him?"

"That was something I put together myself," Rumlow said. "Nobody used his name. That was rule number one of working with him - no names, no nothing. I recognized him from pictures I remembered from school."

"Tell us about Mr. Barnes as the Winter Soldier," Campbell replied, pausing in her steps. "What was his disposition like? What was his general level of awareness?"

"He was quiet," Rumlow replied. "Usually pretty submissive, but not always. He was aware of what he was supposed to be aware of and not much else."

"Was he the mindless weapon that the defense claims he was?"

"I wouldn't call him mindless," Rumlow replied. "He was brilliant. Seeing him work in the field for the first time was a shock. I've never seen anyone so brutal and precise."

"Elaborate," Campbell replied.

"Well, he's considered the best assassin of the last century for a reason," Rumlow said. "He was quick and efficient. Didn't blink, always did whatever had to be done. Always got the job done without question. And he didn't just show up somewhere and pull the trigger - the jobs were a lot more complicated than that. He got the toughest missions because he was the best at what he did."

"He was the best at killing?" Campbell asked.

"Put it this way," Rumlow said, "he didn't need a visual on the target to get his shot. He could extrapolate an exact location using the smallest of clues and still drop the target with a headshot. You can't say he was mindless when he used his head to complete every mission that the other guys couldn't. He was brilliant. Still is, I'm sure."

"You said a few moments ago that he was usually submissive but not always," Campbell said. "Can you elaborate?"

"Well," Rumlow sighed, "it depended on how long they let him stay out of cryo. If they just took him out and put him back in, there'd be no issue and he was easy to work with. But if he had to stay out longer due to travel or complications with the mission, whatever, that's when things would get dicey."

"_Dicey_ how?"

"Dicey as in he'd start to remember things he wasn't supposed to and then he'd fly off the handle and start killing everyone around him."

Bucky kept his expression blank even though inside he was stewing with a mixture of anger and shame. He knew exactly the incidents that Rumlow spoke of, and while he was ashamed of those deaths, another part of him felt as if every one of those bastards had deserved what they got.

"Did you witness such an incident?"

Rumlow nodded. "Yes I did. He was like an animal thrashing around, trying to kill everyone in the room with his bare hands. We barely got him restrained and into the chair to wipe him. Five guys died."

"Keeping all of that in mind," Campbell then asked, "would you consider Mr. Barnes fit to be free in society? Do you think it's possible to rehabilitate such a man and allow him near, for example, children?"

"Look," Rumlow said with a slight shake of his head, "he can deny it all he wants but the thing is, I know what it's like to do what he does. I know how it feels and what it does to you. It's like having a beast inside of you, and that doesn't just go away. You can try to ignore it, distract yourself with whatever works for awhile like maybe a wife and a couple kids, but it's still gonna be there inside of you waiting to come out. And the more you try to keep it buried, the worse it's gonna be when you finally let it out."

"So that would be a no, then?"

Rumlow glanced at Bucky and then back to the prosecutor. "He didn't choose what happened to him. I know that, everybody knows that. But I think for once you guys in the government are doing something right trying to get him off the streets."

Campbell nodded and then turned, handing the witness to the defense as she returned to her seat on the other side of the courtroom. After a few quietly spoken words between Matt and Foggy, Matt stood from the table and, walking stick in hand, approached the witness stand next.

He took a moment before speaking, seemingly gathering his thoughts carefully before he lifted his head a bit and said, "As the prosecution noted, you are a convicted domestic terrorist, Mr. Rumlow."

"Yes, sir," he replied.

"Is it also true that you exchanged information leading to my client's arrest for a more comfortable prison cell?"

"I don't see how that's relevant to this case, Counselor," Rumlow replied. "But yes, that's true."

"And now you, a convicted murderer and terrorist, are the prosecution's star witness," Matt noted. "Can you give me a credible and convincing reason why the jury should listen to you - an unapologetic killer who was complicit in a conspiracy that would have killed _millions_ of innocent citizens - over my client, who unlike you has expressed remorse for crimes that he was brainwashed into carrying out for an organization that he never pledged allegiance to, also unlike yourself?"

"Because I've got nothing to gain here," Rumlow replied. "I've gotten all the favors I can get and now I gotta live with rotting behind bars for the rest of my life. I've got no reason to be anything but honest. Unlike _your client, _who went and hid with his little super-friends and pretended to be a good guy until I helped the Feds catch up with him."

"But that's not what you did, is it?" Matt asked. "You didn't lead the FBI to Mr. Barnes. You led them to his wife, who you kept tabs on for years and attempted to kill more than once."

Before the prosecutor could object to such an inflammatory remark, Rumlow merely shrugged and replied, "I still don't see the relevance."

"That's because there's a lot of things you obviously don't see," Matt replied. "Upon your conviction, you were evaluated by a team of psychologists who reported that you present as heavily sociopathic with psychotic tendencies. Is this true?"

Rumlow chuckled as if Matt had just told a particularly funny joke. "Yeah, that's right."

"On the other hand, when the very same team evaluated my client following his arrest earlier this year, his report focused on severe PTSD and depression with some dissociative qualities, all of which are extremely normal and commonly found in soldiers and prisoners of war. And yet you claim he is the one who should be kept off the streets? Do you really expect a jury to believe a word you say?"

"I don't really care," Rumlow admitted. "I'm not here to make any friends or win any favors with anyone. But I _am_ telling the truth. And you and _Captain America _can sugarcoat it all you want, but the truth is that Barnes _is_ dangerous and always will be. And I bet even his little wife knows that deep down."

"Well, his wife can speak for herself when she takes the stand," Matt replied. "I only have one more question for you. Do you feel any guilt for having witnessed my client's abuse at the hands of HYDRA and aided it rather than try to put a stop to it?"

"No," Rumlow replied. "Because what HYDRA was trying to do and trying to accomplish wasn't easy or pretty. It required sacrifice."

"And Mr. Barnes's identity, autonomy, well-being - those were all inconsequential things to sacrifice for the greater good?"

"Absolutely," Rumlow replied. The prosecutor tried not to roll her eyes and cringe at the idiocy spewing from her supposed star witness.

"Just like all of those innocent people that Project Insight would have murdered?"

"Every great thing worth fighting for requires sacrifice," Rumlow replied. "I'd do it all again if I had the chance."

"No further questions," Matt said, finished with Rumlow now that he'd made him look like the homicidal and mentally unstable loom that he was. The members of the jury all appeared slightly horrified and more than a little confused, and Bucky made it a point to look anywhere but at Rumlow now that the questions were over. Summer didn't have the same qualms, however, and she watched intently as Rumlow was escorted out by armed guards. He stared right back at her, unapologetic and as hate-worthy as he had ever been.

Summer just wanted to punch him in his smug, scarred face. In some strange way, however, it was nice to be able to aim all of her anger at someone in particular for a change and have someone to hate, so that was exactly what she did.

After that, the court went into recess and the prosecution and defense teams retreated into their separate rooms where they took their breaks and strategized in. There was one other old HYDRA operative taking the stand that day, and they had about 20 minutes before the trial would resume.

"Well," Foggy said as he sat at a large round table, "I think that went about as well as we could hope for. Guy's more nuts than a can of cashews."

Bucky didn't sit with the rest of the team. As Matt and Steve began to talk and Natasha stood nearby listening, Bucky wandered over to a window in the room and stared out of it in silence, only half-listening to what was being said. Summer watched him a bit nervously, still in lingering shock from their argument earlier and unsure if she should try to speak to him or not. She never seemed to say the right thing anymore, and she felt like all she did was make things worse. But she loved him more than life and she couldn't _not_ go to him, even after the mess they'd both made of things earlier that day.

She approached him quietly from behind, not touching him like she wanted to because she was afraid that he'd flinch and pull away. "You okay?"

He didn't answer her. He just kept staring out the window, lost in thought and barely seeing or hearing anything other than the noise in his head.

"I'll leave you alone if you want," she said quietly, and he blinked at those words. "I just... I love you. And I know that I really can't do anything to help you right now and that this trial is... hell for you. It's hell for me too. I just want you to know that whatever happens, I don't regret a single minute I've spent with you."

That was when he turned and finally looked at her, eyes stormy with emotions that she could tell he could barely contain let alone control. He looked her right in the eye and he said, "I do."

And there it was again, the tip of a razor-sharp knife piercing the very center of her heart. "What?" she asked barely above a whisper, her voice sounding utterly pathetic to her own ears.

"I meant what I said this morning," he replied evenly.

"But..."

"Don't," he said with a shake of his head. "Don't tell me I'm wrong when we both know I'm right. All I've done is fuck up your life and David's life, and I'm not coming out of this a free man."

"You don't know that," she argued weakly, tears springing behind her eyes and making her voice come out a bit wobbly.

"Yeah I do," he muttered. "If you don't, then you're just lying to yourself."

"Please stop talking like this," she begged him, reaching out and touching his arm only to have him jerk away from her, just as she had feared. It made the knife already lodged in her heart twist painfully deeply.

"Don't touch me," he muttered before side-stepping her and heading for the door. Steve, who had been half-listening, started to get up to stop him, but Natasha put a hand on Steve's shoulder to halt him. There was nowhere else Bucky could really go in the building aside from s bathroom just down the hall, and that was exactly where he went to get away from everyone for a few moments.

Summer stood there staring at the door after he'd left, quickly wiping away a tear that annoyingly fell from her left eye. Natasha didn't hesitate to come her way, standing at her side as she told her, "Don't listen to him. He's nowhere near being in his right mind."

Summer shrugged and looked at her friend helplessly. "I can't even tell anymore. I've seen him at his worst before but _this_... I barely even know who he is right now. And I can't help him and it's the worst feeling in the world."

"I know," Natasha replied softly. "Just keep hanging in there. The trial'll be over soon enough."

"And what if he's right?" Summer asked. "What if he's not coming out of this a free man and they put him away? I mean, we all know that could happen, right?" She looked then at the lawyers and asked, "What do you guys think? What are the chances of him actually getting off?"

Foggy glanced at Matt before sighing and replying, "Honestly, I'd say it could go either way at this point. 50/50."

Summer then turned back to Natasha and said, "I don't know what I'm gonna do if it doesn't go our way."

"You're a survivor," Natasha replied simply, like it was a mere statement of fact. "You'll survive."

Summer believed her. She had survived a lot in the past and she would continue to survive whatever the future had in store. But the thought of going back to merely surviving after almost five years of _thriving_ and being truly and utterly happy... it was almost more than she thought she could take. Like half of her soul was being ripped away right along with the man that she loved.

It would be the hardest thing she'd ever have to endure to let him go and move on with life without him. She could only pray with everything that was in her that they would catch a break for once and that she wouldn't lose him the way that Bucky was already convinced that she would.

* * *

The rest of the day's proceedings went by slowly and uneventfully, the remaining testimony not nearly as interesting or shocking as Rumlow's had been. By day's end, Summer was drained and tired and Bucky was too, and they were both relieved when it was time to go home.

As they exited the courthouse, Summer took Bucky's hand like she always did and was by his side as they began to descend the steps towards the car waiting for them. Despite the turmoil between them, there was no need for the public to see even a hint of that, so they kept up appearances and kept their heads down as they avoided the usual gaggle of photographers and reporters and the inevitable onslaught of questions neither one of them would ever answer. Steve and Natasha were just behind them, and they had almost made it down to the car when a camera in Summer's face knocked into her shoulder and made her drop her purse from her shoulders.

Bucky and the two others behind them stopped as Summer leaned down to pick the purse up, grabbing it and shoving it back on her shoulder as she glared at the offending cameraman, and it was just as Bucky took her hand in his once more that the deafening and unmistakable sound of a gunshot firing off hit their ears.

It all happened so fast, too fast, but Summer felt a burning pain like she'd never felt before right at the same moment that she heard the gunshot. She didn't cry out or make any kind of noise because she was instantly in shock, plus the next thing she knew, she was on the ground underneath Bucky.

Bucky immediately grabbed Summer and flung her to the ground when he heard the shot, instincts taking over and his metal arm covering her as chaos erupted all around them. There were three more shots - _bam bam bam_ \- and the third bullet ricocheted off of his arm and into the street. Whoever was shooting, they were aiming at _him_. But they missed.

There was shouting from both Steve and Natasha and the sound of the reporters running away from the scene as quickly as they could, and when Bucky looked up and scanned the tops of the nearby buildings, he saw a sniper on the rooftop of a bank just before he turned to run away. Natasha saw him too, and she pulled a gun from her ankle and aimed and fired while the sniper was still in their sights. He stumbled - she hit him, just like she always hit all of her targets - but he kept going, and then suddenly Sam was bursting from the car that had been waiting and hurriedly fastening on to his shoulders what he called his "emergency wings" that he kept in his car for situations like these. It was Tony's idea, and they all owed him even more now.

"He's on the bank," Natasha shouted to Sam as he ran her way. "He's headed south."

"I know, I saw," Sam said, opening his arms. "Come on."

As if they'd practiced this a thousand times before, Natasha jumped into his arms and his metal wings quickly extended out, and then they were flying towards the sniper with Sam flying them there and Natasha's guns out and ready. Police were on their way too, the scene still utter chaos, but once Sam and Natasha were on their way to apprehend the shooter, Steve jumped out the last remaining few steps to check on Bucky and Summer.

"You hit?" He asked Bucky, who shook his head and moved off of Summer now that the immediate threat was gone.

"No, I'm fine," he said, looking down at Summer and then pausing as all the blood drained from his face and horror overcame him like ice through his veins. He was covered in blood that wasn't his, and Summer's light grey dress that she'd worn that day was stained red on the right side of her abdomen. "_Summer?!_"

His voice panicked and her eyes wide as she looked down and saw the blood for herself the first time, her mouth fell open and suddenly the pain finally hit her at full force. Steve stared in horror for a second before yelling for a medic, and Bucky couldn't believe what he was seeing. This couldn't be happening.

"_No, no, no, no_," he mumbled before putting his hand over the hole in her body as if that would do anything. Summer started hyperventilating, mind going blank with panic and the sudden horror of realizing that she might be dying when Bucky's eyes met hers.

He took off his jacket and wadded it up, pressing it to her wound to stifle the bleeding as he told her, "Stay with me, okay? Look at me, don't look down. Look at me, sweetheart."

She did as he said, staring at him as her vision started to go fuzzy from both the blood loss and the lack of oxygen to her brain.

"You're gonna be fine, okay?" he told her desperately, though there was zero confidence in his tone. "You hear me? You're gonna be fine."

She nodded and then burst into tears. The unexpected sight of her tears streaming down her face made Bucky's voice die in his throat, and then suddenly he could barely see through the tears in his own eyes.

"I'm sorry," she told him shakily through the tears streaming down her cheeks, reaching up and touching his face even though it took what felt all of her strength to raise her hand that far. He took her hand and held it to his cheek for her as she cried harder, repeating over and over, "_I'm sorry, I'm sorry_..."

"Shh, sweetheart, don't talk," he gently told her, kissing the back of her hand and knowing that her apologies encompassed so many things that weren't her fault in the least. She was sorry for everything that she couldn't fix, for everything wrong in their lives that she couldn't make go away, and now she was sorry for bleeding in his arms like this and making him feel the worst terror that he'd ever felt in his life. It was worse than falling, worse than watching her be hit by a speeding car, and the fact that she was _apologizing_ for that made his own tears fall even harder.

That was when he felt arms pulling him away from her as the paramedics arrived and got to work on her. It was Steve who had pulled him off, of course, and before Bucky could tell Summer that it was okay and he loved her and that he was sorry for pushing her away and that she was the best thing that had ever happened to him, her eyes rolled shut and she fell unconscious. The paramedics put an oxygen mask on her face and started hooking her up to all of their equipment and portable monitors, and as they put pressure on the wound and got ready to load her up and take her to the hospital, Steve tried to keep Bucky from completely losing it.

"It's okay," Steve told him unconvincingly, still having to physically hold him back. "She's gonna be fine. She's tough. She'll pull through this."

Bucky shook his head, trying to pull away and get Steve off of him, but he couldn't. "I have to go with her, I have to -"

"She's gonna need surgery, Bucky," Steve told him gently. "You've gotta let them take her."

He knew that Steve was right. He stood there and watched helplessly, uselessly, as his wife and the mother of his children laid bleeding on a stretcher from a bullet that was meant for him. The paramedics quickly and carefully loaded her into the back of their ambulance, closed the doors, and then got on the road with sirens blaring.

Steve then quickly led Bucky to Sam's car, and Bucky numbly got into the passenger seat as Steve got behind the wheel and followed the ambulance. Bucky's ankle monitor would start blaring soon, being out of the acceptable range that he was allowed within, but he couldn't have cared less. If the authorities wouldn't give him a pass to be at the hospital with his wife who had just been _shot_, then they were even worse than he thought and he would deal with that later, once he knew that Summer was okay.

_If_ she was okay.

Tears of shame and fear falling from his eyes and into his right hand as he covered his face and tried not to sob like the broken mess that he was, Bucky prayed and begged any God who would listen that she would be okay. He could lose his own life and his freedom, he could lose everything, but he couldn't handle _that_. She couldn't die. She had to be fine. She _had_ to.

She had to.


	63. Chapter 63

**A/N: heyyyy everyone! :D So, I had this written maybe about a week ago but between life being chaotic and moving, I have just now had a chance to update :D No guarantees on when the next chapter will be done, but I'm gonna try my best to get it up soon. Also, I just saw Civil War last night and I'm DEAD - DEAAAAAADDD - so if anyone wants to message me and freak out with me, feel free to do so! I AM ALL EARS. And just because I anticipate a few people asking me this question, I won't be incorporating aspects of the movie into this story because well, it's pretty close to being over (I estimate within 8 chapters or so) plus I don't see how I really could anyway. BUT. I do already have an idea or two for writing one of my short 5 chapter-ish stories and working Summer into what we now know is canon, probably pre-Civil War, so... don't be surprised if something like that pops up :D **

**Anyway, my huge HUGE thanks to midnightwings96 for her help and feedback and for being EXTREMELY high on my favorite people in the world, and my huge thanks to all of you for reading and following and making my day with your reviews. I love you all SO much. *giant hugs***

Just outside of the city in a house full of happy kids and two almost perpetually exasperated parents, David was sitting on the living room floor playing toys with his baby sister. They were used to spending a couple days a week at their Uncle Paul's house, and while David didn't prefer to leave the tower and come there, it had become a part of his routine and he had accepted it. Adelaide had been a different story at first, but David had learned how to help keep her happy and calm when they were away from their parents.

His older cousins at school and the younger ones bouncing around _everywhere_ and playing like they always did, David was focused on building his nearly two year old sister a castle made of pink and blue Legos when the big flat screen TV in the living room cut into breaking news coverage from its previous programming. David tended to ignore such things, especially since he started seeing his parents on the TV a _lot_ since his Daddy had been arrested, but for some reason he looked up and glanced at the TV anyway.

What he saw made him drop the turret he'd been working on and his heart fall into his stomach. There on the TV, plain as day, was shaky but clear footage of sheer chaos outside of the courthouse that Bucky's trial was being held at. People were scattering and running all over the place, and the sound of gunshots firing one after the other punctuated the images. David watched carefully, scanning the faces and bodies in the crowd for his parents, and the first people that he saw and recognized were Natasha and Sam. Sam was flying off and carrying her somewhere as she pointed her guns up and out, and then the footage cut to something that made David feel a sense of terror that he'd never felt before.

It was his mother, lying on the bottom steps of the courthouse and bleeding badly from the right side of her stomach as his Daddy and Steve both hovered over her. She looked pale and utterly terrified, and then Steve was pulling Bucky away so paramedics could look at her.

The bottom of the screen displayed the headline _Wife of Winter Soldier shot by sniper outside federal courthouse_. The last thing that David saw before the footage began replaying from the beginning was Bucky crying and an ambulance carrying Summer leaving the scene with their lights flashing.

That was also the moment that Sarah walked by the living room, carting her youngest daughter on her hip and talking to Paul on the phone as she checked in on David and Adelaide.

"I know," she said mid-conversation, "I just think that if we're going to be paying for ballet lessons _and_ cheerleading that we're gonna have to seriously consider..."

Her words trailed off as she glanced at the TV, did a double take, and then gasped as she nearly dropped the phone. She stared in horror for a moment before putting Marina down and then hurrying into the living room, picking up Adelaide and gently telling David not to look at the TV and to follow her into the dining room.

"Paul," she said quietly into the phone as she hustled the kids away from the living room, "your sister, she... on the news it says she was..."

Tuning out the voice of his aunt and feeling true panic set in for the first time in his young life, David let Sarah get him into a chair at the dining room table and looked down at his hands in his lap as they began to shake beyond his control. The images from the news burned into his memory, he started to feel as if he couldn't breathe, and that only fed his sense of panic. He'd never felt like this before, even though he'd been through more traumatic and scary things in ten years than most adults had in a lifetime. The reason why was that he'd always had either his Mama or Daddy with hm through all of those bad things, but now he didn't have either one of them and he had seen his mother on the TV laying there on the ground bleeding and looking like she was _dying_.

Now he was hyperventilating.

"David?" Sarah said, setting Adelaide in Marina's high chair so that she could kneel in front of David and take his hands. "David, sweetie, look at me. Look at me, honey, breathe. Slow breaths, okay? Calm down."

He tried to do as she said, but he couldn't help it. He felt like his throat was closing up and like all the air had gone from the room, and all he could do was take shallow, too-quick heaving breaths that weren't reaching his lungs or his head.

Adelaide, sitting there in her chair and watching her brother have the first full-blown panic attack of his life, watched silently for a moment before letting out a terrified wail. She had no idea what was happening but seeing David like that was enough to scare her to death and start crying her distinctive _scared_ cry.

Sarah glanced at Adelaide and then back to David before pulling him close in a hug, trying to comfort him as best she could and get him to breathe before he made himself faint. She didn't know what to do and she could only pray that their mother was going to be okay, because with their father facing the very real possibility of life in prison, those two kids needed Summer more than ever.

* * *

Putting down the phone and rushing to the nearest waiting room, Paul felt all the blood draining from his already-pale face as he found the right room and then ran straight to the TV mounted on the wall. It was already tuned to CNN, and he ignored the strange looks of the folks already sitting in the room as he grabbed the side of the TV and jabbed at the volume button until it was as loud as it would go. Then he stood back and watched the footage play in horror.

Summer had been shot. She had been shot by a sniper on a rooftop who had clearly not been aiming for her but rather for the man that she had been walking hand-in-hand with as that first shot rang out.

_His sister had been shot_, and Paul knew all too well as he watched the footage of paramedics carrying her into the ambulance that it was _bad_. It wasn't a graze or a shot to the limb or something else fairly minor - no, he knew exactly how bad this could be and all the different medical ways in which she could succumb to an injury like that. It was his curse as a doctor to immediately see and anticipate the worst possible outcome, and he could do nothing else.

Once he had seen enough, he turned and tore out of the waiting room and headed straight for the ambulance entrance at the emergency room. His hospital was the one closest to the courthouse and thus the sure destination for the ambulance currently transporting his sister.

He made a pit stop at the nurse's station in the ER and told her to page the chief of surgery as he grabbed gloves and other gear that was protocol to put on when receiving a trauma patient. He knew that Summer would need surgery and she needed the best surgeon in the building to do the job, and that was the chief of surgery.

Another doctor and a handful of nurses joined Paul as he waited, none of them questioning his presence or whether he should maybe let the others treat his sister first. They all knew how headstrong and stubborn he was - it was a family trait - and he wouldn't have moved from his spot if the President himself had showed up and personally ordered him to.

When the ambulance rolled in with sirens and lights still in full swing, Paul watched and fought the urge to be sick. The horrible pit in his gut only grew worse as the ambulance parked and the two back doors flew open, and when the medics carefully unloaded the stretcher and began to roll it towards the entrance, Paul got his first glimpse of Summer and nearly burst into tears on the spot.

She was pale and unconscious, an oxygen mask on her face and clothes stained with blood around the wound that was still bleeding despite the pressure being applied to it. Paul watched and let the other doctor present take point when the medics met them and began giving the overview of the injury, her vitals and how much blood she'd lost, and Paul took one side of the stretcher and stared down at his baby sister as they wheeled her to triage.

Horror and hope collided when her eyelids began to flutter, and he watched as her eyes then opened and stared up at the ceiling before shifting slowly and finding him. Voice stuck in his throat for only the briefest of moments, he put his hand over hers and told her, "Hey, Squirt. You're okay. You're at the hospital and we're gonna fix you up, okay?"

He watched as realization dawned on her, as she remembered what had happened and why she was there and why she _hurt_ so badly. Though he tried to stop her, she reached up and weakly pulled off her oxygen mask from her face just long enough to croak out, "It wasn't his fault."

He knew exactly what she meant. He nodded and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "I know. I know."

"Tell him that," she urged him, using up the last of her strength on those words. "Tell him that if I don't..."

Her hand dropped then, and her eyes closed as she once again fell unconscious. That was when they reached triage, and a hand on Paul's arm stopped him from entering the room.

It was the chief of surgery. "You need to stay out here, Paul," the man, a talented and renowned surgeon of 35 years told him gently. "I've got this. I'll treat her like she was my own sister."

Paul nodded, holding back a sudden wave of tears as he thanked the man and then watched as he turned and left him standing alone there in the hallway, Summer now behind a closed door and in the very capable hands of the others. Paul stared at the door for a moment, trying to hold himself together before turning and heading back out the way that he had come, through the ER.

In the midst of his mental anguish and stomach-churning fear and _anger_ that this had happened to his only sister, he passed by the nurse's station just in time to see the doors to the ER burst open and two very familiar and distraught faces storm inside. He halted his steps immediately, that sickening feeling inside getting even worse when he saw the puffy, red-rimmed eyes and pale face of Summer's husband.

Bucky and Steve immediately made eye contact with Paul and thus ignored the nurse telling them that they weren't authorized to be where they were, both marching right up to him and Bucky asking almost desperately, "Where is she? Did you see her?"

Paul swallowed down a lump in his dry throat and somehow managed to answer him without dissolving into pathetic sobs like a very significant part of him wanted and maybe even needed to do.

* * *

"She's in triage," Paul told Bucky with a shaky voice. "I was there when they brought her in."

"How does it look?" Steve asked, afraid to know the answer.

"I don't know," Paul replied honestly. "She... she woke up for a minute and she spoke, but then she -"

"What did she say?" Bucky asked, tone desperate and eyes welling up all over again. The tears were beyond his control, just like the terror coursing through his veins and the fear that was evident if one only spared him the slightest of glances.

"She told me it wasn't your fault," Paul replied softly. "She didn't get to finish her sentence, but... she wanted me to tell you that this isn't your fault."

Though Summer had surely intended those words as a comfort, they only made Bucky feel even worse. The fact that she'd used those few precious breaths to give such a message made him feel wholly unworthy of her and like he was less than the dirt under her shoe. She knew him so well and knew even in her current state that he would be blaming himself and she wanted him to feel better.

And this was the same woman that he'd been systematically pushing away and even occasionally bringing to tears over the last month and a half. Now she might not even live long enough to grant him undeserved forgiveness for everything that he felt so unbearably guilty for.

"She's in the best hands possible," Paul told both Bucky and Steve. "The chief of surgery is in there with her right now. He's one of the best surgeons in the whole country. If anyone can fix her, he can."

Bucky nodded absently, dragging a hand over his mouth and feeling like his lungs were burning with each breath he took. He only looked up when Steve's phone rang in his pocket and he picked it up to answer it. Only a few seconds passed before he glanced at both Bucky and Paul and said, "Sam and Nat have the sniper in custody."

"Who the fuck is he?" Bucky all but growled, more than willing to rip the man from limb to limb if anybody gave him the chance to.

Steve listened for a few more moments and then shook his head before murmuring, "Don't know yet. Sam said he's got an Eastern European accent, doesn't speak much English."

Bucky furrowed his brows for a moment before looking down and trying to process that. He certainly had no shortage of enemies and it was his habit to first suspect HYDRA of being to blame for every threat and attack, but that didn't seem to fit this time around. A lone sniper on a rooftop who hailed from Eastern Europe wasn't what he expected. This was hardly some backwoods American with a hunting rifle deciding that it was time for some vigilante justice for JFK's killer. This had to have been methodically and carefully planned out and executed, albeit poorly since the bullet had hit the wrong target.

"Come on," Paul said, gently touching Bucky's arm and gesturing down the hallway to their right. "You guys can't stay here. There's a private waiting room down the hall and to the left. You can stay there and I'll keep you updated."

Bucky nodded and kept his eyes downcast as he turned to follow Paul. That was when the doors burst open _again_, this time thanks to a gaggle of FBI agents who suddenly streamed into the relatively small space with their weapons not drawn but at the ready nonetheless. Bucky turned towards them and tensed for a fight out of pure instinct, ready to rip apart anyone who would get in his way and keep him from being as close to Summer as he could possibly be, but Steve extended a hand his way as a silent order to stand down.

The same agent who had been the one to arrest Bucky emerged from the group of other agents and held out his hands in a non-threatening gesture. "Everybody stay calm. I'm not here for a fight. But you're not supposed to be here right now."

The agent gestured to the monitor on Bucky's ankle that had indeed been on alert ever since he had arrived at the hospital. Steve eyed the agent harshly and said, "His wife's just been shot, the whole country saw it."

"I know," the agent said. "But according to the agreement that his bail was conditional upon -"

Steve opened his mouth to continue defending his friend, but Bucky beat him to it and interrupted the agent. "I'll die before I let you people take me away from here. You can post guards on every door and follow me everywhere I go, but I'm not leaving my wife unless you kill me first."

The agent fell silent and looked as if he wanted to roll his eyes and sigh. That became even more true when Steve added, "You'll have to go through me first."

"And me," Paul added. When every eye present turned on him, he sniffed and then shrugged, "I'd be pretty easy to go through, but I'm just saying."

This time, the agent _did_ sigh. He then instructed one of the others to go and remove Bucky's ankle monitor, and then he turned his eyes back on Bucky and told him, "We _will_ be keeping an eye on you. You won't so much as go to the bathroom without an agent following you."

Bucky was about to bite back with a seething retort along the lines of _have fun with that, fuckers_ when Steve replied first with a much more diplomatic, "Understood."

After that, the three men and a handful of agents headed off to the private waiting room. The ankle monitor was removed and then the agents left to stand outside the door, keeping guard over Bucky despite the fact that he posed zero threat to anyone in his current state.

Well, anyone besides the man who had put a bullet in his wife's stomach, but Bucky knew he'd never be let within a hundred feet of that man. Whoever he was.

Once the security matters had been settled, Bucky found himself alone in the sterile, bland and distinctly non-comforting waiting room with Steve and Paul. Almost as soon as the agents had walked out the door, Paul cleared his throat and decided to bring something up that he knew would only add to Bucky's stress.

"I was on the phone with Sarah when I found out what happened," Paul said quietly, Bucky reluctantly meeting his gaze as he spoke. "David, he... he saw the news on TV. He knows."

Bucky's face crumpled and he felt as if his already-battered heart was being mercilessly stomped on and left to die. "_Fuck_."

"He... she said that he had an anxiety attack. Full-blown anxiety attack."

Bucky paused and stared at Paul for a moment, letting those words sink in. "_What_?"

Paul's light blue eyes were pained as he added, "He's okay now - kind of. He's calmed down but... I don't know if you want to have Sarah bring the kids here or have someone else pick them up, or..."

Bucky let his eyes drop to the floor and he closed his eyes as a dull pain radiated through his head. He was the only parent those two little kids had at the moment, and though he felt like the least qualified person to care for anyone in his current mental state, he knew that he had to step up and do it. He didn't want to bring the kids to the hospital just yet - it would likely only make David more anxious and Adelaide would be bored to tears - but he didn't want to leave them at Paul's house where there were about a thousand other kids and only poor Sarah to look after them all.

"Wanda," he finally said, going with his first instinct. He looked at Steve and said, "Can you call her and have her pick them up and take them back to the tower?"

Steve had already pulled out his phone and brought up her number in his contacts. "Of course."

Wanda would keep David calm and Adelaide happy. David saw her as the big sister he'd always wanted, and when Summer was out of surgery and recovering, Wanda could bring the kids and let them see with their own eyes that their mama was going to be just fine.

That was what had to happen. Bucky couldn't entertain any other potential outcome without losing his damn mind.

As Steve called Wanda, Paul excused himself to go and see if there were any updates on Summer yet. Bucky stared sightlessly at the floor after he left, his head all over the place and as much of a mess as _everything_ currently was. He couldn't believe that he had told Summer _twice_ that day that he regretted their relationship and said things that he _knew_ he didn't really mean. He could blame his behavior on stress and anger and fear until he was blue in the face but nothing could make him feel better now. Not when there was the chance of Summer not making it and some of his last words to her being the most hurtful that he'd ever uttered to her.

"Buck," Steve said softly, jarring Bucky from his thoughts. "Try to stay calm. I know how hard it is, but... you and I both know how strong she is. She can make it through this. I know she can."

Bucky let out a shaky breath that he just barely kept from becoming a sob as he replied, "I've been mean to her. I've treated her like shit ever since..."

"Don't do that to yourself," Steve urged him quietly. "Not right now. None of this is your fault."

"The bullet was meant for me," Bucky pointed out, still staring at the floor. "If it's not my fault, I don't know whose it is."

"She knew you were gonna say that," Steve remarked. "That's why she told Paul to tell you that it wasn't your fault."

Bucky shook his head. "She's wrong."

Steve let a moment of silence pass before he spoke again, having gathered his thoughts. "The thing about Summer is... you know she would have jumped in front of that bullet and taken it for you if she _had_ seen it coming."

"That's ridiculous," Bucky muttered. "I've got HYDRA's fucking serum. I can take it, she can't."

"Still," Steve shrugged. "You know that she would have. And you know what she'd tell you if she saw you sitting here beating yourself up."

He _did_ know what she would say. He could hear her voice in his head as if she was sitting right there next to him, telling him _I love you and I chose this, I chose the risks that come with being with you and I'd choose it again and again_.

He took a deep breath and then blew it out. She just had to get better. She had to survive and recover, and then he could focus on groveling at her feet for forgiveness that he didn't deserve.

Paul walked back into the room a few moments later, looking at Bucky and telling him, "She just went into surgery. They have to remove the bullet and shrapnel and repair the damage done, so it's probably gonna be a few hours until we hear anything new."

Bucky gave Paul a short nod and then lowered his head, closing his eyes and telling himself to keep breathing and keep going.

_Just keep going_.

* * *

While Summer was in surgery, almost every person that she knew and was acquainted with came to the hospital. Pepper and Tony were the first to show up, the former of the two absolutely horrified and pulling Bucky into a hug that he wasn't expecting. Tony was more quiet and reserved on the matter but just as worried and dumbfounded. He'd grown quite the soft spot for the awkward, brave girl who had first taken refuge in his tower after her home had been blown up. He told Bucky that if he wanted, he'd have the best surgeons and doctors in the world there within a day's time.

Matt and Foggy arrived right on the first pair's heels, both of them having missed the chaos outside the courthouse due to having been speaking to the prosecutor inside when it had all happened. They were as horrified as anyone else, assuring Bucky that they were there for absolutely anything that he needed and that they would handle the press and make sure Bucky wasn't penalized for technically violating his house arrest by coming to the hospital.

Next to arrive were Esteban and Nicolo, both of whom were just about hysterical. Esteban was in tears from the moment he arrived, having found out about the shooting from a Facebook post of all things. Nicolo was sniffling too, and the sight of those two men crying over his wife made Bucky almost lose it all over again. She had so many people who loved her, and that had never been more clear than it was that day.

Sam and Natasha showed up next, the latter of which was equally as distraught as she had been when it had been Nick Fury laying on an operating table. She had just come from interrogating the shooter nearly into a coma, and she had some information for Bucky when he asked for it about two seconds upon her arrival.

"He's a mercenary," Natasha told him. "And while we're not sure _who_ he's working for yet, he was definitely sent to kill you. If I had to guess, he was probably hired by someone who wants the Winter Soldier to face justice and isn't happy with how slowly the trial's moving."

Bucky scowled and looked away, trying to ignore the hot prickles of shame brought by her words. The Winter Soldier had made many enemies in his day, had killed important men and women all over the globe, and it was no secret or surprise that there were plenty of people who wanted to see him dead. He had just never thought that it would be Summer paying the price for those sins.

Three hours passed and more people came and went, Avengers and civilians alike, people who knew Summer and were hoping and praying for her recovery. Natasha stayed in the waiting room along with Sam, and Clint drove up from his farm to join the vigil.

As they waited, Natasha kept an eye on social media and was stunned by the outpouring of support and well wishes for Summer, even from those who believed that Bucky deserved to be convicted. A decent amount of well-known names tweeted prayers and wishes for her recovery, including journalists and news anchors, a handful of politicians and even some celebrities who were known to be politically aware and outspoken. And none of that was even counting the small legion of fans that Summer had amassed as an author, blogger, and controversial public figure.

A few years ago, when she had been hit by a car and her leg had been crushed, she had been just another face in the crowd that nobody knew aside from those closest to her. That day, however, she was a famous, accomplished, and popular woman whose name was the top trending topic on Twitter as she laid unconscious in an OR while surgeons worked to save her life. What a difference a couple of years could make.

* * *

Four hours after she had first gone into surgery, the door to the waiting room opened and the chief of surgery walked through the door bearing news.

"Mr. Barnes?" he said, reaching out his hand to shake Bucky's. Bucky shot up out of his seat within an instant, eyes wide and heart suddenly pounding as he shook the surgeon's hand and awaited the news. "I'm Dr. Brown, Chief of Surgery. Your wife is in recovery now."

"How did it go? Is she okay?" Bucky asked, on the verge of an anxiety attack of his own.

"We removed the bullet and all of the shrapnel, and what took the longest was repairing the damage. There was some vascular damage as well as trauma to a few of her organs, which in turn caused some internal bleeding that we managed to get under control."

Blinking a few times, Bucky nodded and said, "Okay. What does that mean?"

"Well, she took quite a hit, but I'm optimistic that she'll make a full recovery," the doctor replied, and suddenly Bucky felt like he could breathe again. "It's gonna take some time and she's gonna feel like she got hit by a train when she wakes up, but she should be just fine."

"Thank you," Bucky told the surgeon sincerely, stopping just short of hugging the man. "Thank you so much."

He nodded and then glanced at Paul, who looked equally grateful. "You're very welcome. The nurse will let you know when she's awake, all right?"

Bucky nodded and thanked him again, and with that, Dr. Brown left the room and Bucky turned and sunk back down in his chair with a huge sigh of relief. Steve gave his shoulder a hearty pat with a relieved _told you she'd pull through_, and every other person present in that little room - Sam, Natasha, Esteban, Nicolo, and Clint - all shared smiles and deep breaths that they'd been holding ever since that bullet had first hit Summer.

Bucky told Steve to call Wanda and have her bring the kids to the hospital. He wanted Summer to see her babies when she woke up, and he wanted to make sure that they knew their mama was gonna make it.

* * *

It took about two hours for Summer to wake up thanks to the trauma that she'd been through and all the drugs in her system, but once the nurse cleared her for visitors - only two at a time - Bucky and Paul were allowed to finally go back and see their girl. Two FBI agents shadowed Bucky, of course, but he didn't even spare them a passing glance as he headed to Summer's recovery room. Nothing mattered but her and seeing her alive and breathing.

The door to her room was open when he and Paul approached it, and a nurse was in her room taking her vitals. Paul let Bucky walk inside first, and as he did, he took a deep breath and tried to prepare himself for whatever he was about to see.

The minute that he laid his eyes upon her laying there in that hospital bed, his heart felt like a ton of bricks had dropped on top of it. She was almost deathly pale, an oxygen apparatus lying under her nose and wrapped behind her ears, her eyes closed and breaths coming evenly as if she were sleeping. Bucky swallowed and quietly approached her bedside, ignoring the suspicious and slightly fearful look that the nurse gave him as he stood at Summer's side and reached down to cover her left hand with his right one.

She stirred at the touch, opening her eyes and then looking up at him. She smiled immediately and said in a crackly, hoarse voice, "_Hey_."

He smiled and sat down on a little stool next to her bed, lifting her hand and laying a soft, emotional kiss on the back of it. "Hey. How do you feel?"

"... Kinda like I got hit by a car again," she replied, blinking and then looking over Bucky's shoulder to see Paul standing there. She smiled again. "You were there when they brought me in, weren't you?"

Paul nodded and came closer, standing next to where Bucky was sitting as he smiled affectionately down at his sister. "Yep. You scared the crap out of us."

"Sorry," she said sleepily, closing her eyes and then grimacing. "Hurts to talk."

"Yeah, you had a tube down your throat for four hours," Paul nodded. "You don't have to talk."

"The kids are here," Bucky told her, rubbing soothing circles on the back of her slightly cold hand with his thumb. "Addie's curled up with Wanda in a chair asleep in the waiting room. David wanted to come in with us but they're only letting two back at a time."

"Is he okay?" Summer asked despite the pain in her throat. "Does he know what happened?"

Bucky nodded, jaw tightening slightly, and then Paul told her, "He saw what happened on TV."

Summer closed her eyes and furrowed her brows, letting out a long and distressed breath. Bucky gave her hand a squeeze. "_Dammit_. Poor little boy."

"Shh," Bucky hushed her softly. "Don't hurt yourself. Doctor said you're gonna be fine but that it's gonna take some time for you to get feeling better."

Summer nodded, and then Bucky leaned forward and placed a soft, gentle kiss on her forehead. All the while, the nurse was still staring at him as if she expected him to go ballistic and start snapping necks any minute. Bucky couldn't have cared less.

"I'll go get David," Paul said, giving his sister another smile. "I know he's dying to see you."

She nodded, then whispered so that she wasn't straining her vocal cords, "I love you."

"Love you too, kid," he grinned before nodding to Bucky and then heading out to grab their son. Once he was gone, Bucky turned back to Summer and brushed a piece of hair out of her pale face with his metal hand. That _really_ got the nurse's attention. Bucky still didn't care.

"Pepper and Tony came by," he told her softly. "Matt and Foggy too. Clint drove up from the farm. He's in the waiting room with everybody else."

Her eyes widened and a surprised smile graced her face, giving it a bit more life. "_Really_?"

He nodded, smiling back. "Nat said you're the top trend on Twitter right now. Or top trending... whatever. Your fans have been freaking out almost as bad as I have."

"We'll need to put out a statement," Summer said, again grimacing at the pain in her throat.

"Don't worry about it," Bucky told her. "Everything's gonna be taken care of. Just rest."

She smiled at him and closed her eyes again, unconsciously shifting closer towards him. She was so tired and she felt like she could sleep for days, but she had to make herself stay awake long enough to see David. Luckily, that was just about the exact moment that Paul brought him in.

Fidgeting with his fingers the way that Summer did when she was nervous, David padded into the room slowly, peering inside and looking at his mother with wide, still-frightened eyes. She opened hers when she heard his little footsteps, and she smiled at him and reached her free hand towards him. "Hey, kiddo."

Bucky shifted and made room for David, motioning for him to come closer when he seemed to hesitate. David then shuffled forward, walking the rest of the way there and then holding on to the rail of the bed and looking over Summer carefully, as if to confirm that she really was there and alive and not a figment of his imagination.

"Sorry I scared you earlier, sweetie," Summer told him, letting go of Bucky's hand and grasping one of David's. "But I'm okay. Just gotta get better now."

David nodded, looking at her IV and all the monitors she was attached to like he expected them to come alive and turn into monsters any minute. But Summer just kept gently stroking his hand, and Bucky told him, "She's gonna be pretty tired for awhile, and she's probably gonna sleep a lot the next couple days. But she's okay."

"You've gotta help take care of Addie while I'm in here," Summer half-whispered, voice growing weaker the more that she talked. "Can you do that for me?"

David nodded, and Summer smiled and squeezed his hand before closing her eyes again. The beep of the monitors almost lulled her to sleep, but a shiver passing through her shoulders stopped her from falling asleep. She let go of David's hand and pulled at the thin blanket draped over her, frowning a little as she did so.

"What's wrong?" Bucky asked softly, watching her concernedly.

"Cold," she said, pulling up the blanket to her neck. Her nurse, who had been about to leave the room, looked at her and then glanced at the monitors before returning to her side.

The nurse grabbed a thermometer and gently prodded Summer into opening her mouth so she could take her temperature. Once the little device beeped, the nurse pulled the thing from her mouth and then read the result. She frowned, and that made a new wave of anxiety arise in Bucky's gut.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, and the nurse glanced at him nervously and tried not to make eye contact as she gave her answer.

"Just a slight fever, not uncommon," she explained. "I'll go get her some ibuprofen."

The nurse then quickly left the room, and Bucky turned back to Summer with a distinct sense of unease now prickling at the back of his mind. Summer took a deep breath and then exhaled with a visible shiver, and it seemed like she went from just a little cold to _freezing_ in less than two minutes.

Then one of the monitors started beeping. It was her oxygen stats, which according to the numbers displayed had slipped from 98 to 82 and dropping. Bucky stared at the numbers and then looked back to Summer, whose teeth were chattering by this point, and between that and the dropping O2 stats, panic was starting to crawl up the back of his throat.

The nurse then returned with two others, both of whom had come in to investigate the monitor alarms going off, and Bucky grabbed David, stood up and backed away to give them room to work. Something was clearly not right, and he wasn't about to get in their way.

"What's going on?" He asked. "What's wrong with her?"

"We're not sure yet," the nurse said, eyeing the still-dropping oxygen stats with a deepening frown. Then she looked at Bucky and said, "You two need to step out."

Bucky was about to protest, but then Summer jerked in the bed and his eyes flew to her just in time to see her start shaking uncontrollably. The heart monitor went wild, numbers climbing up from 90 to 200 in mere seconds, and her blood pressure was climbing as well. One of the nurses cursed and hit a button on the wall, and after that, everything happened much more quickly. He and David were hustled out of the room and then the door was closed after two doctors rushed inside of it.

The relief Bucky had been basking in only moments before was shot to hell. He stared at the room from the outside, unable to see anything thanks to the closed blinds in the room's sole window, and he felt like he was going to be sick.

Beside him, David started hyperventilating again. Bucky snapped out of his horrified daze and looked down at the boy, cursing before physically grabbing him and lifting him up into his arms and carrying him away from the room.

"Breathe, David," Bucky told him, his voice shaky and unstable from the weight of his own impending panic and anxiety. Still, he rubbed David's back and steered them back towards the waiting room, trying to comfort him and quell his fear despite the fact that Bucky felt as if he might crumble from the inside out.

Summer was _not_ fine. He'd heard the words _seizing_ and _intubation_ before the door had slammed shut, and he knew what those things meant. He knew how bad this was. What he didn't know was _why_. The surgeon had said that he'd fixed her, so why was this happening?

Bucky had made it halfway to the waiting room when David's breathing reached its worst and he had to stop. In the middle of a short stretch of hallway, Bucky turned and pressed his back against the wall, sliding down to the floor with David half in his lap. He took the boy's face gently in his hands and told him somewhat desperately, "David, breathe, _please_. Please, _please_, breathe. You've gotta calm down, you've gotta breathe."

But David was a wreck. Tears were streaming down his face, and in between hard, rapid, shallow breaths, two clear syllables could be heard on his usually-silent tongue: _Mama_. He was saying _Mama_, the boy who Bucky had only heard speak twice before.

That was the moment that Bucky lost what tentative control he'd had, and he started crying again for the second time that day.

"I know," he muttered, hugging David close to him and holding him there tightly. "I know."

It was all that he could say, because he wasn't going to tell David that she was going to get better and everything was going to be okay when that might have been a lie.

At both ends of the hallway, FBI agents stood there and watched as Bucky clutched a crying, hyperventilating little boy to his chest and cried with him. Bucky was barely aware that they were even there, his sole concern and sole focus being on the woman that he loved and the child that was scared to death in his arms. Nothing else mattered, and he wouldn't move from that spot until David calmed down and was breathing easy again.

* * *

The next hour was pure agony. Bucky couldn't get a straight answer out of a single nurse as to what was going on with Summer, and even Paul couldn't get a coherent explanation out of anyone. All they knew was that Summer had been sedated and intubated due to her plummeting O2 stats and that they were running tests on her to determine what the cause was of her distress. She was moved to the ICU, and then after that it was simply a waiting game.

David finally calmed down after nearly an hour spent clinging to Bucky and crying in his arms. Once they were all back in the waiting room, time seemed to move at a snail's pace. Hardly anyone said anything, and Bucky could hardly remember a time where he felt lower than he did in those moments.

If he lost her... if he lost her and the kids lost her, right before he was put in prison for life...

No. It was unconscionable. It couldn't happen. The world was cruel, _life_ was cruel, but it surely wasn't that cruel.

But he couldn't even believe his own far-fetched thoughts. The truth was, life was _just_ cruel enough to take her from them when they all needed her most. He knew that. They all knew that.

Almost two hours after Bucky and David had been shut out of Summer's room, the chief of surgery returned to the waiting room with news. Bucky again jumped up out of his seat the minute the man walked in.

Dr. Brown looked much less optimistic than he had a few hours before. "Mr. Barnes," he nodded, taking a look around the room before continuing on. "I'm afraid the news isn't great this time."

Paul shot up next and asked, "Oh God, what is it?"

"She's showing signs of multi-system organ failure," the doctor said, the words shocking just about everyone in the room. "She can't breathe on her own and her kidneys are on the verge of failing. None of this is consistent with the single gunshot wound that she received earlier today."

"What's that mean?" Bucky asked, unable to believe that the shaky and terrified voice coming out of his mouth was his.

"Well," Dr. Brown said, "it didn't make sense until I ordered just about every test in the book. Some of them won't have results for a few more hours, but one came back with what I think is at the root of things. Who shot her?"

Natasha spoke up. "Someone who was hired to kill him," she gestured in Bucky's direction. "He missed and hit her instead."

Dr. Brown then sighed and said, "That would explain why the bullet was laced with poison, then."

Bucky's jaw nearly hit the floor. "_Poison_?"

"It's gonna take some time for us to determine exactly _what_ was on the bullet," the doctor replied, "but I'm confident that this is what we're working with. The problem is, we're gonna have to hit her with every antidote at our disposal and just hope we get it right. I've already contacted the CDC and they're on their way with a small arsenal to help treat her."

Bucky was speechless. He was in shock. It had been bad enough when he thought she was just dealing with a single gunshot wound, but _this_? This was... it was too much.

"Be honest," Bucky said, voice low and eyes full of fear and dread. "Tell me what her chances are."

The doctor looked at him sympathetically, then glanced at Paul and David who was listening just as intently as the adults were, and then he replied, "It doesn't look good. She's in a free fall right now, and I don't know if an antidote even exists for whatever that lunatic laced the bullet with. You're... enhanced, right?"

Bucky nodded, fighting the urge to fall apart and start crying right there and never stop.

"Then I imagine the substance was designed to be strong and lethal enough to kill _you_, which makes this even harder for us to deal with."

Bucky could hardly look the doctor in the eye. This was his fault. It was all his fault. Summer was gonna die and it was his fault.

"But I can assure you," the doctor said, "we're doing everything we possibly can to save her. She's getting more blood and an immunoglobulin transfusion right now, and we're on top of this. I'm personally overseeing everything and making sure she's the top priority."

Bucky nodded, thanking the man profusely, and standing just behind him, Steve frowned and looked down at the floor as an idea came to him. It was either the stupidest or the smartest idea he'd ever had, and given the circumstances, he had to give voice to it as soon as possible.

"Doctor," Steve said, making nearly every eye in the room shift to himself. "You said that whatever poison this is that it's meant to be lethal enough to kill a super soldier?"

"That's the prevailing theory at the moment, yes," the doctor nodded.

"Well," Steve said, "the serum that I received made me immune to basically all diseases, all bacteria, and all toxins. I can't get sick. I haven't even had a cold since 1943. What they gave Bucky though, it was different. Kind of like name brand versus a pretty good knock off."

"Okay," the doctor said, a slight furrow to his brow as he began to clearly wonder where Steve was going with this.

"I'm not a doctor and what I'm about to say might be incredibly stupid, but... what if you gave her my blood? My antibodies?"

Bucky's eyes widened and then flew to the doctor. He hadn't thought of that.

"Well, before we get ahead of ourselves, what's your blood type, Captain?"

"O negative," Steve replied.

"Universal donor," Dr. Brown mused. "_That's_ lucky."

"Could it work?" Bucky asked, looking at Paul for answers as well. "Could it save her?"

Paul faltered for a moment. "I... it _could_. But if she's already in multi-system organ failure..."

"We'd have to do it now," Dr. Brown said. "And there's no guarantees. It might not do anything. It might be too late."

"But it might not? It might work?" Steve asked hopefully.

The doctor looked at Steve, then Bucky, then at the assortment of Avengers all smashed into the little waiting room. The last face that he looked at was David's, which was full of hope and fear and almost as pale as a sheet.

Then he nodded and gestured to Steve as he said, "Follow me."

A new and albeit desperate wave of hope briefly and almost manically lifting Bucky's spirits, he asked immediately, "Can I come too? I just... I want to see her and... I don't want to be stuck here waiting and not knowing what's going on."

Surprisingly, the doctor nodded. "Come on."

Before dashing off, however, Bucky turned and knelt down in front of where David was sitting, putting his hands on his arms and telling him, "I'll be back, okay? I'm gonna go see Mama and try to help her get better. Stay here and help Wanda keep an eye on Addie for me."

David nodded, sniffling a little, and Bucky gave him a little squeeze before standing up and following Steve and Dr. Brown out the door.

He knew that this was a last-ditch effort and that it was more than a longshot. He wasn't even sure if the doctor believed in it himself or if he was just humoring them. But what he knew above all else was that this absolutely _had_ to work. Everything was riding on this now, and if it didn't work... he couldn't even fathom that.

It was going to work. It _had_ to.

* * *

Thirty minutes later, Bucky and Steve were holed up in a small, slightly cramped room in the Intensive Care Unit. Steve was reclining in a chair next to the single bed at the center of the room, and in his wrist was a tube that ran from his vein to a central line in Summer's chest. Bucky stood in front of them both, arms crossed and eyes fixed on his wife as she laid there unconscious and only just hanging on to life.

A machine was breathing for her, pumping her chest up and down in unnaturally even breaths. Her eyes were closed and she seemed to be sleeping, but the doctor had said that she was actually in a dream-like state and not fully _out_. He even said that she might be able to hear what was going on around her and remember what she heard when she woke up. _If_ she woke up.

There were about five or six different IV bags hanging above the bed, most of them bearing names that were nothing but gibberish to Bucky. The monitors were calm for now, but it wasn't much of a comfort when he knew that machines were the reason why all was quiet. Without the tube down her throat and the medicine hanging and everything else she was attached to, she would be dead.

And now, what little hope that remained was contained in the little tube taking Steve's one of a kind blood and delivering it directly into Summer's own veins. Her blood volume was still down from what she had lost earlier, so Steve was not only giving her an admittedly low chance at recovery but also replenishing her blood supply.

Bucky knew that if it worked against all odds, it would take time. Nothing was going to happen instantly, at least nothing good. She wasn't going to suddenly open her eyes and start breathing on her own, but he still watched over her as intently as if he expected her to wake up and be back to her usual healthy, adorable self at any minute.

Eventually, Bucky grabbed a stool and wheeled it to Summer's bedside. He sat next to her, never taking his eyes off of her as her chest went up and down, up and down with each new breath. She looked so pale and so _small_, vulnerable and entirely breakable in that bed hooked up to all of those machines. Her arms were strapped down at her sides so that she wouldn't stir and accidentally pull out the tube, and for some reason that was one of the things that made his heart lurch the most.

He reached up and touched her forehead, careful not to touch any of the equipment or tubes, and he ran his fingers soothingly through her hair at the top of her head. Voice pathetic and broken, he managed to murmur, "I don't know if you can hear me, but... if you can, I love you. I love you and I'm not gonna leave your side until you're awake again."

To his surprise and slight terror, she actually stirred and moved, rolling her head towards him as if the sound of his voice had roused her enough to draw closer to it. He blinked and felt a sudden burst of fear at this, not knowing what to expect and having certainly not anticipated that, but he kept stroking her hair and speaking to her nonetheless.

"You're... you're getting some super-blood pumped into you right now, thanks to Steve," he told her softly. Steve watched from his chair and listened in silence as he went on, "It sounds funny, but it's true. If you were awake you'd probably be asking us if you're gonna grow a foot taller and start lifting motorcycles tomorrow."

Steve smiled sadly at that before looking away and doing his best to give them both a sense of privacy.

"I don't know what's gonna happen or if this is gonna work, but... I think I've prayed more today than I have my whole life. Kinda hoping God gets sick of hearing me bugging him nonstop and gets you better just so I'll shut up and leave him alone." He forced a chuckle, then fell silent for a moment and let his expression grow pained again. "I just... I need you to wake up and get better. I need you here so I can start making up for everything I've done, how I've treated you and the things I've said. I've been a fucking idiot and I _hate_ myself for the things I've said to you. I didn't mean any of it and now sitting here and looking at you like this, I just..."

His words cut off as he held back a sob, forcing himself to hold it together. He took a deep, shuddering breath and kissed her forehead, wishing that he could just _will_ her better. He knew that he couldn't, though. All he could do was wait and keep praying, and that was one of the most maddening things of all.

"I just need you to get better," he said, drawing back and looking at her closed eyes again. "I need you to wake up and be okay again. You've gotta get better so we can go have that second honeymoon once all this is over."

He might have been fooling himself to think that they'd really get the chance to have that second honeymoon with the trial still looming over his head, but for once he didn't care about that. He needed hope and _she_ needed hope, and he would do his best to hold on to it for them both.

He kissed her forehead again, and this time when he pulled away, he saw a lone tear escape her eye and roll down her cheek. He didn't know if that meant that she had heard everything he said and that she understood it all, but it broke his heart and gave him hope all at once. He wiped the tear away and then took her hand in his, holding it and keeping it warm as Steve's blood continued to trickle into her veins and the clock continued to tick.

All Bucky could do was wait, and hope and pray for what would amount to nothing short of a miracle.


	64. Chapter 64

**A/N: sorry for the wait with this chapter guys, I'm quite busy lately and I've been having to write stuff in small increments whilst half asleep lol, so... yeah, sorry about leaving you all hanging for so long :D not much else to say this week, other than I LOVE ALL OF YOU and I am SO grateful for your reviews and feedback every week, it seriously makes my day and makes the half-asleep writing incredibly worth it. Also my huge HUGE thanks to midnightwings96 who never fails to be the most helpful and fabulous and AWESOME person ever, enormous hugs to her and to all of you as well :D I'll see you guys soon (I hope!) :D **

The first 24 hours following Summer's super-charged transfusion, the doctors said, would prove by far the most critical. Whether she improved, stayed the same, or continued to worsen would tell them if the transfusion had any effect or if it was too little, too late, and what sort of end result that they should prepare for.

The ICU had a policy of very strict and specific visiting hours, but not a single doctor or nurse on the hospital staff dared to tell the Winter Soldier that he couldn't stay by his wife's side as those 24 hours ticked by. The federal agents assigned to watch him stood outside the door and unwittingly kept up a vigil with him, and as Bucky stared at the numbers on the machines and watched the respirator breathe for Summer, the whole nation watched and waited for word on her fate. Only the inner circle knew about Steve's last-minute idea to save her, but the whole world knew that she was fighting for her life. And for once, _everyone_ was in agreement that she didn't deserve it and that what had happened to her was a travesty.

Summer _did_ always have a knack for uniting people, Bucky thought as he glanced at the news coverage of her shooting on his phone. Even the damn President of the United States put out a statement condemning the shooting and calling for peace and order in the wake of the constant chaos that the trial had showcased so far. Even now, unconscious and sick and just barely hanging on, she was a force for good in the world.

He wasn't like that. He seemed to destroy everything he touched, Summer included. But the thing was, even though he thoroughly blamed himself for what had happened to her and and he hated himself for it, he wasn't mentally and emotionally pulling away from her like he had been ever since he'd been "reset" and regained all of his memories. Instead, he was making promises to every deity that probably didn't exist to love her and cherish her and never _ever_ make her cry ever again if she made it through this alive. He didn't know if he'd be around to do any of that, the trial making such things impossible to predict, but if by some miracle she got better and he wasn't thrown in some dark hole of a cell for the rest of his life, then he would spend the rest of his days making up for all the pain and misery that he had both accidentally and purposefully caused her.

He didn't just utter those promises to himself and God, either. He told her himself over and over again, hoping that she could hear him and that somehow hearing his voice and knowing that he was there would help her pull through. He also wasn't the only one who spoke to her and kept her company, either. In fact, most of the time, he wasn't there alone but accompanied by a revolving door of people who loved her almost as much as he did.

Steve was there the most, usually a quiet but reliable presence that somehow actually did manage to make Bucky feel a little better. Steve was never one to offer empty words or encourage false hope, and that Bucky appreciate him all the more. Natasha was like that too, and whenever she would come in to give Steve a break, usually with coffee or food or both in hand for Bucky, she would take Steve's spot in a small chair on the other side of Summer's bed. Then Bucky would watch her armor crack as she looked at Summer and then at the monitors, the fearsome and so often-stoic Black Widow nowhere in sight as Natasha faced the prospect of losing a friend who had become more important to her than she'd ever dreamed she would.

Wanda was the next most frequent visitor, and she came bearing a framed photo of Jewish prayers that she placed facing Summer's bed on a small table. It was the sort of gesture that would have made Summer cry had she been awake, and Bucky thanked her profusely on Summer's behalf. Then Wanda would ease his mind by reading Summer's and assuring him that she wasn't gone. Most of the time she was dreaming, just as the doctor said she would be in her sedated state. The dreams were all hazy and blessedly pleasant, and Bucky was grateful to know that her mind was still there and still intact and that she wasn't having any nightmares.

The children, of course, had it harder than almost anyone. David was an utter wreck, refusing for the most part to eat or drink anything, and Adelaide had to go home with Paul after she'd reached her limit of how much time in a hospital a child of her age could handle. The situation was difficult for everyone in more ways than could be counted, and those critical 24 passed by so slowly that it felt as if an entire week had crawled by.

By the time that the deadline arrived, it was late at night and Bucky had inadvertently fallen asleep slumped forward in his seat, his head resting on the bed next to Summer's hand. He hadn't meant to doze but he was _beyond_ exhausted, and he was also alone in the room with her for the first time in hours.

But he was only asleep for about fifteen minutes before the sound of choking and gagging woke him up.

Head shooting up and his eyes flying wide open, Bucky looked around the room wildly before he realized that the distressed noise was coming from Summer. Her eyes were open and her monitors were beeping madly as she instinctively fought the tube in her throat and gagged on the foreign object that had been keeping her alive.

"Summer," he said in a panicked tone, jumping to his feet and standing over her so that she could see him. His hands hovered over her, afraid to touch her and yank out a tube or anything else she was hooked up to. "Summer, Summer, look at me. _Look at me_."

She did, her wide, watery eyes focusing on him. As soon as they did, he touched her cheek as carefully as possible and told her, "Calm down, okay? Don't fight it. Don't try to talk. Just look at me."

She simply stared at him with such fear and such confusion that it ripped his heart in two. That was when the door burst open and three nurses rushed inside, quickly followed by the doctor.

"I'm not going anywhere," he told her before letting go and getting out of the way so that the staff could do their work. "Okay? I'm gonna be right here."

Then he forced himself to step away, and he watched as the nurses and the doctor quickly looked her over and then began the process of extubation. It happened fairly quickly, and Bucky watched as the tube was finally removed and Summer coughed dryly in its wake. Bucky only tore his eyes away from her to check her oxygen monitor, which displayed a rather encouraging number of 99 after she had been breathing on her own for a few moments.

"Well, Mrs. Barnes," Dr. Brown said, "I'm sorry about all of this. This is not how I like to see a patient wake up, but you still had enough drugs in you to keep you knocked out for 12 more hours, so this is pretty irregular."

Bucky furrowed his brows, keeping a close eye on Summer and the doctor as he began to examine her.

"Your vitals are improving," he said, reading the monitors and then turning back to her. "Your color's good, too." When she tried to speak, he held up a hand and then told a nurse to grab a piece of paper and a pen so she didn't have to use her voice and hurt herself. Then he told her, "I'm gonna tell you exactly what happened to you, all right?" She nodded, and he took a deep breath before giving her the overview.

"The bullet you took was laced with poison. Not just any poison, but something this hospital and even the CDC wasn't prepared to deal with. Your systems started failing and failing fast." Her eyes widened, and he put a comforting hand on her shoulder as he went on. "We hit you with every drug known to man just about, but then your friend _Steve_ had an idea that I was just desperate enough to try. He gave you his blood, straight from his arm, since he's immune to _everything_ and there was a chance that it might save you."

Her eyes immediately filled with tears, and she turned her head to look at Bucky. He felt like he was about to cry at any minute as well, not knowing if she was recovering or not what any of this meant.

One of the nurses gave her the paper and pen, and the first thing that Summer wrote - shakily, looking almost like a child had written it - was "Did it work?"

"Well, we just drew some new labs about an hour ago that's gonna give us an idea of where we're at," the doctor replied. "But the fact that you woke up and you're breathing on your own right now is _very_ encouraging."

"Is she gonna be okay?" Bucky asked, stepping closer to the bed after a nurse moved and vacated the spot.

"Like I said, I need to see the labs first," Dr. Brown told him. "But based on where she was yesterday at this time compared to now, just with her breathing alone - it's a damn miracle."

For the first time since Summer had been shot, Bucky felt a real and _beautiful_ sense of hope finally take hold. He smiled at the doctor - _smiled_ \- and then looked down at Summer before gently taking her hand in his. She was still so pale and clearly still confused and shocked by what she had woken up to, like anyone would be, but she was _alive_ and she was breathing and her heart rate was stable at 70 now instead of the worrying 45 that it had been a few hours ago.

She stared up at Bucky with fear and about a thousand other emotions in her eyes before she started scribbling with her free hand. This time she wrote one word, it was for Bucky. _Kids_?

"They're fine," he assured her. "Addie's with Sarah, David's here in the waiting room. He wouldn't leave. Paul's here too, and Steve, Nat, Wanda. Sam might be here too. Everyone's been coming and going constantly. They've all dropped everything to be here for you."

She closed her eyes and let a few tears fall from them, Bucky reaching under her eyes and wiping them away as a matter of habit. The doctor, still standing there on her other side and watching, smiled and told them he was stepping out to check on her labs. Bucky thanked him profusely again, and he simply gave Bucky a reassuring pat on the shoulder before leaving the room. The nurses stayed, fluttering about and keeping a close eye on her, hanging new IV bags and getting her to take a few sips of water to help moisten her poor, abused throat. All the while, Bucky stood by her side, a silent but comforting presence that kept her calm as the nurses went about their routine.

When one of them began to change the dressing on her gunshot wound, she paused and stared at it before getting one of the other nurses to come and look. That caught Bucky's attention immediately, and as the second nurse came and stared at with equally wide eyes, he asked, "What? Is something wrong?"

The first nurse looked up at him and shook her head, smiling. "No, not at all. You see, yesterday this wound was _awful_. It was showing signs of infection and her incision from the surgery was just as bad as you would expect post-op, but now both sites look half healed already. Come look."

He shared a look with Summer before leaning far enough over the bed to see. Once he did, he suddenly understood why the nurses seemed so flabbergasted.

He knew right then that it had worked. By some miracle and some kind of grace that he didn't deserve, it had worked, and Steve's blood had done what medicine couldn't.

He turned back to Summer and smiled, giving her hand a squeeze. She looked up at him hopefully, still terrified and unable to speak just yet, but she squeezed his hand back and closed her eyes when he kissed her forehead.

Then the doctor returned, opening the door with her chart in hand and a _very_ encouraging smile on his face. "Good news," he said, shaking his head as if he hardly believed it himself. "Kidney function's improving and every single lab we drew is improved from the last set we took just twelve hours ago. It's impossible, but it's right here," he held up the chart, "in black and white."

"She's gonna be okay?" Bucky asked, ready to cry and probably fall to his knees if the answer was _yes_.

"Just to be sure," Dr. Brown told him, "you might want to see if you can get your friend to give her about a half of a pint more, since her blood's still a little down, but yeah, I'm confident that she's gonna recover." He then looked at Summer and told her, "Looks like Captain America saved your life."

That was when Summer lost all sense of self control and let her face crumple as she cried with sheer, blessed relief. Bucky almost did the same, not caring who saw or what they thought as he dragged his right hand over his face and then couldn't help but sink down into the chair next to her bed, his legs suddenly not wanting to work.

He could breathe again. _She_ could breathe again. And he owed it all to Steve.

"I've gotta tell him," Bucky said, looking at Summer as she tried to calm down. He then turned to the doctor and said, "And Paul. Can you -"

Dr. Brown held up his hand and nodded. "I'll let everyone know. You stay right where you are."

"Thank you," Bucky told him sincerely, and then the doctor turned to leave and inform everyone in the waiting room of the good news.

Not long after that, the nurses left the room to go and get a few supplies and also give the couple a moment of privacy now that Summer was stable. The moment that they left, Bucky turned to Summer and inched closer to her, her tired but lively blue eyes meeting his as he reached up and gently touched her cheek. She closed her eyes at his touch and he could tell that she was trying not to cry and that it was a losing battle.

He had so much to say to her, and he was never going to waste a moment with her again.

"I'm sorry," he all but whispered to her, rubbing his thumb over her cheekbone. He looked her in the eye and she stared at him with her big teary eyes as he went on, "I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I've been... the way that I've treated you and pushed you away..."

She shook her head and tried to open her mouth to tell him to stop, but he hushed her before she could strain her voice. "Don't, don't. Please, I have to say this." Her expression then became pained, but she didn't try to stop him again. "I love you... _so much_... and I've been a fucking idiot, but I swear I'm done. I'm done pushing you away and making you miserable. I don't know what's gonna happen to me or how much longer I've got with you, but I'm not gonna waste another minute, I promise. I _promise_, Summer."

She nodded, clutching his other hand, the metal one, tighter as she sniffed back another wave of tears. He kissed her forehead, then her temple and her cheek and finally her lips, flesh hand cradling her face all the while. Then he leaned his forehead against hers, and after swallowing and bracing herself for what she was sure to be impending pain, she told him in a voice that was so hoarse and rough that it didn't sound like her, "I love you."

He opened his eyes and pulled back a few inches, gazing at her with such love and devotion that it made her feel warm from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. "I love you too," he replied softly, kissing her again. "I love you so much."

She was going to be okay. And in that moment, whatever fate had in store for him down the road and whatever the jury would eventually decide, he knew that he would be okay too, because she was alive and she would be there when he was gone. And that, more than anything, was what he wanted if life did indeed take that turn.

* * *

When Dr. Brown told every occupant of the waiting room the good news, what followed was a rush of relieved sighs and pleasantly shocked smiles as the unexpected news sunk in. David, like his father, started crying the minute that he heard that his mama was going to be okay. Steve nearly fainted from shock to hear that his last minute idea had actually worked and that his blood had saved Summer's life, and Natasha had been quick to pull him into a hug that she needed as much as he did. The first thing he did after was tell Sam to call Paul and tell him the news, since it was after midnight and he'd had no choice but to take Adelaide home and help Sarah manage the kids, and Sam immediately got on it.

"Now normally," Dr. Brown told Steve once everyone had settled down a bit, "we don't let more than two visitors into the ICU at once. But considering the circumstances, I'll let you go ahead and see her and take her son in as well. Only for a little while though, 'cause she's still got a lot of recovering to do. But I won't tell if you don't."

"Thank you, Doctor," Steve told him, shaking his hand. "Truly. You've been amazing. I don't know how to thank you for all you've done."

The doctor pretended to think for a moment before replying, "Autograph for my daughter would be nice. She's a big fan."

Steve laughed and replied, "For all you've done, I think it's worth at _least_ a face to face meeting and all the pictures and autographs she can handle."

"Deal," the doctor chuckled before turning and gesturing towards the door. "Follow me."

Steve nodded and then held out his hand for David to take. David immediately grabbed his hand, wiping his damp cheeks with his other and then following the doctor alongside Steve.

The walk there felt shorter than it had before, and Steve felt a bit nervous once they were nearly to Summer's room. He wasn't sure what to say to her or what to do, but once they had arrived and the doctor opened the door for them and then discreetly ushered them in and walked away, all of those slightly anxious thoughts disappeared.

There was Summer, her eyes open and breathing on her own, awake and holding Bucky's hand as his other ran soothingly through her hair. She was _smiling_ at him and he was staring at her as if she held his very life in her hands, and Steve filed that image away in his near-perfect memory for later, in case he wanted to sketch it and surprise them with it sometime.

The sound of the door closing behind them made both Summer and Bucky look up, and that was when David let go of Steve's hand and _ran_ towards his parents. They both smiled and Bucky caught him, telling him quietly to be calm and easy and be careful because she was still weak, and David nodded quickly and looked at his mama with his big brown eyes and a hopeful smile on his face. She smiled back and reached out to him, her voice coming back a bit stronger than it had before as she croaked out a _hey sweetie_ and she gave him a hug as best as she could from her current position. He put his arm around her and laid his head down on her shoulder, being very careful of where he touched her, and she started crying again as she held him close and kissed the side of his head.

Steve watched from near the door, his hands in his pockets and his own emotions threatening to get the best of him as he watched the sweet moment unfold. But then Bucky stood up from his seat and started walking his way, and Steve looked at him just in time to catch the grateful and teary expression on his best friend's face as he marched up to him and then pulled him into the most bone-crushing and emotional hug that Steve had ever experienced in his entire life.

It came as a shock at first, mainly because Bucky - _this_ Bucky, the one that had survived HYDRA and come out on the other side as a sometimes unpredictable mixture of the man that Steve had grown up with and someone else entirely - was not generally one for hugs. With Summer and the kids, yes, but with Steve, not so much. Their friendship had come a long way, but these open displays of affection didn't come often. And this wasn't just _any_ hug. It was one Steve would never forget.

Summer watched from her bed, still holding David close as Bucky held on to Steve as tightly as he could and Steve embraced him back as best he could. It was no short hug, and in fact it felt like it lasted forever in the best of ways. In truth, Steve had been waiting for a moment like this since the minute that he got Bucky back, and while he had never imagined that it would happen like this and after such horrific events, he still found great relief that it was happening at all.

"Thank you, Steve," Bucky said, still holding him tight and clenching his eyes shut. Those words didn't feel like nearly enough to him, but to Steve, they were everything he needed and more.

Steve simply nodded and patted him on the back, glancing at Summer over Bucky's shoulder. She smiled at him, full of gratitude and emotion that he almost found overwhelming.

When Bucky finally let him go, Steve took a deep breath and smiled as Bucky pulled away. Steve then sniffed - not because he was crying or anything, although he _was_ and he certainly couldn't fool Bucky _there_ \- and then Bucky moved to his side to clear the way for Steve to see Summer.

This was where Steve _knew_ he was gonna get choked up all over again. He headed her way, on the other side of the bed that Bucky didn't normally occupy, and he asked her quietly, "How're you feeling?"

"Like crap," she managed to reply with a smile, though she instantly winced at the pain of speaking.

"You don't have to talk," Steve assured her. "I know it must hurt."

She nodded, then grabbed the pen and notepad lying next to her in the bed. After furiously scribbling a bit, she held up the notepad for him to read.

_Thank you_, it said. He smiled warmly at her and replied, "You're welcome. I'd do it again in a heartbeat."

Then she scribbled something else on the paper, taking a bit longer this time. This time, right under her first two words, the paper read, _I love you and I owe you my life._

Bucky chuckled and Steve smiled even more widely, shaking his head. "You don't owe me a thing, Summer. Trust me. Just as long as you get better and you're healthy and you get back home... that's enough for me."

She sighed, wiping away a few tears that she just couldn't contain, and then she held out her free arm, wordlessly asking him for a hug. He obliged to the best of his ability, leaning over the bed and carefully patting her shoulder and letting her weakly hug him back. Then David, still cradled under her other arm, threw an arm around Steve too, and he was suddenly enveloped in a group hug.

Bucky smiled as he stood there watching, all of his worries and fears eased for the time being. Steve felt just as relieved, and deep down, a part of him felt something that he hadn't felt in a long, long time - like just _maybe_ he had a family again, and people that he belonged to and loved as much as they loved him. He had a brother, the same one he'd had since childhood, and now there was Summer too. She was like the sister he'd never known that he wanted but now couldn't imagine life without, and David was the little nephew who Steve would never cease to be obnoxiously and unstoppably proud of. Some bonds transcended blood, and these, he knew, certainly did.

"Just do me a favor," Steve said after the group hug came to a reluctant end. "Just because you've got some super soldier serum in you now, don't start getting any ideas about becoming the next new Avenger."

Summer replied by widening her eyes and shaking her head furiously, making both Steve and Bucky laugh. She then scribbled rather eloquently on the pad of paper _frick that_, and both men definitely knew that their Summer was back.

* * *

The following morning, everyone got their chance to see Summer and see for themselves how far she had come in such a short amount of time. First came Paul with little Adelaide on his hip, and that was perhaps the most joyous reunion of all. The little girl had missed her mama greatly, and Paul hadn't eaten a single full meal since Summer had been shot. And he, as a doctor himself, was even more blown away by her progress than the others.

Natasha spent a lot of time there as well, telling Summer quietly in the middle of a hug that she'd scared her to death and how happy she was to see her awake and breathing again. Summer had grown to know the woman quite well over the years, but she'd never seen Natasha so close to tears as she was when she had pulled away from that hug.

Then there was Wanda, who Summer hugged and thanked for all of her help with the kids while she had been out as well as the framed prayers that she _knew_ Wanda was responsible for. Sam came too, and Tony and Pepper and Vision, not to mention Esteban, Nicolo, and Matt and Foggy, all of them a constant stream of people who kept the ICU nurses highly annoyed and Summer smiling until her cheeks hurt. Her body hurt like hell and she was on even more pain meds than she had been when her entire leg had been crushed, but she was recovering at an inhumanly fast rate and she was surrounded by the best and most devoted friends and family that she could ask for.

She posted a note to her blog thanking her followers as well as the _huge_ amount of people in the general public who had wished her well, but she had to stay mum on the details of her situation. Having Steve's blood in her and being alive because of it was something that needed to remain a closely guarded secret for the rest of her life. Anything else would make her a target and possibly make Steve's blood a highly desired asset for desperate and dangerous people all over the world, even more than it already was and had been since he'd received the serum.

She spent a week in the hospital, most of that time spent letting the doctor run test after test to track her recovery and determine the full effect of Steve's transfusion. What should have taken her at least a month or two to fully recover from only took seven days, and yet while her systems healed beautifully and her gunshot wound was amazingly well-healed already, she wasn't displaying any super-strength or anything particularly obvious on that front. The doctor told her in the end that she could expect to have increased immunity against essentially _everything_, heal faster than should be possible, and depending on if her cells regenerated at the same rate at Steve's, she might even be blessed with an extended lifespan. Only time would tell, but the bottom line was that she was now disgustingly healthy and probably would be for the rest of her life.

Some gifts just couldn't be repaid, and this was one of them. Still, Steve seemed perfectly pleased and content just by seeing Summer up and walking and talking and eating again after having been so close to death.

But it wasn't all sunshine and roses during that week of recovery. Summer was feeling physically better and better with each day, but she had a hard time sleeping at night. She was irrationally afraid to fall asleep, her memories of crashing suddenly and falling unconscious only to wake up a little over a day later choking on a tube lodged in her throat proving rather traumatic. She'd dream of it all and of being shot, of being so close to losing her life and everyone she loved, and as a result, she only managed a few hours of sleep per night. She kept it all to herself though, not wanting to be a burden on Bucky or anyone else especially when they were all so happy to see her doing so well. She knew she'd get over it eventually, so she simply tried not to think much about it or let the lack of sleep get to her.

Soon enough, far sooner than should have been possible, the doctor cleared Summer to go home. She was remarkably strong and mostly back to normal, almost entirely healed and her leftover pain from her ordeal manageable with low-dose narcotic pain medicine, so there was no longer any reason to keep her in the hospital. Only seven days after being shot with a bullet poisoned to kill the Winter Soldier, Summer got up from her hospital bed and walked hand in hand with Bucky, both of their kids in tow, to the car that was waiting to discreetly pick them up behind the building and take them back to the tower. The federal agents that shadowed Bucky's every move were there, of course, following them in plainclothes and unmarked vehicles as they made the trek back home that Bucky had once feared they'd never get to make.

Once they got home, it was back to life as usual, or at least it was supposed to be. Bucky's ankle monitoring device was placed back on and recalibrated to keep him within the tower at all times, and the women of the tower threw a little party for Summer as a celebration for getting better and coming home. The kids were happy, both David and Adelaide rarely leaving Summer's side, and Bucky felt like he could finally breathe again.

Summer was happy. She _was_. She was happy to be alive and grateful for the miracle that had made her survival possible, and she was beyond relieved to be at home with her little family once again. But underneath her smiles and happy laughs, she was trying to adjust to the reality of what had happened and what it meant in the long run, not to mention wrap her mind around being shot by a _foreign assassin_ and figuring out how to ever sleep peacefully again after everything she'd experienced.

She was also trying to do all of that while breathing a word to nobody, since they'd all been though enough on her account and she didn't want to be anymore of a bother than she already had been. She knew that her line of thinking was ridiculous - to an extent - but it was a habit so deeply ingrained within her that it was all she knew to do.

And Bucky, he made her feel both incredibly loved and constantly heartbroken at the same time. He made good on his word to stop putting distance between them, and in fact he was so attentive to her every want and need that it made her heart ache because she knew that even though they'd just overcome a _huge_ hurdle, the trial was still very much a reality and their family could still be torn apart for good.

For the first few nights back at home, Summer would lay awake in bed in Bucky's arms, eyes closed but not asleep, unable to turn off her brain and get some decent rest. For once she was the one stuck being awake all night and Bucky was the one snoozing peacefully until morning arrived.

She wondered what would happen to them. She wondered what would have happened to Bucky and David and Addie had she not made it and he'd had to plan her funeral. She wondered if she was really going to live an extra 20-30 years now because of Steve's blood, and if she would be spending those years alone because Bucky would be executed or imprisoned for life.

She wondered if dozing off only to wake up feeling like she was choking again when she really wasn't was just going to be a part of life now, like the dreams she'd had for years following what Mark had done to her. She'd relived that horrible night a thousand times, and maybe now she was going to relive nearly dying just as many times.

She worried for David, who'd experienced his first anxiety attacks while she had been out and might now have the same issues with anxiety that she'd had since she had been a little girl, too. Her parents' deaths had triggered it and now her almost-death had caused the same thing in her poor little boy. She also worried for Adelaide, who was always bouncing around from one babysitter to another and lacked any real semblance of stability in her young life. She and Bucky were always coming and going, sometimes being the ones to care for her and sometimes not, and that was never what Summer had wanted for her. But what else could she do?

But most of all, she worried for Bucky. She worried for him constantly, and she didn't know how to do anything else. She loved him so, _so_ much, and following everything that had happened to her, losing him seemed all the more unconscionable. She _could_ live without him, of course, but it would be the hardest thing that she could ever do to let him go and lose him to someone else's perverted sense of justice.

She wished that they could run away, but she knew that they couldn't. So instead she kept moving, kept going, kept trying to sleep even when it was impossible, and did everything she could to act like everything was fine while in reality, very _little_ was okay.

* * *

Three nights after Summer's homecoming, she was in hers and Bucky's room with the kids, working on her blog and some other work related things, while Bucky was in the kitchen with Natasha working on a top secret mission... chopping a head of cabbage. Or attempting to chop it up, anyway.

Eyeing Bucky as he tried to evenly chop the vegetable, Natasha leaned one hand on the kitchen counter and asked, "Aren't you supposed to be good with knives? Isn't that kind of your thing?"

"I'm good with _stabbing_ people with knives," he muttered, sighing when the blade slipped off halfway through a cut and ended up smacking down on the cutting board uselessly. "This knife sucks."

"I think it's more of an operator error, honestly," Natasha noted, grinning when Bucky glared at her. She then rolled her eyes and held out her hand. "Give it to me."

"But I want to do this," Bucky protested. "That's the whole point of what I'm trying to do."

"I know," Natasha sighed. "I know that you're trying to make up for your last date night going to hell and I'm gonna help you do that, but if this cabbage doesn't get chopped the _borscht_ isn't going to get done on time and you're going to be surprising her with Domino's pizza instead of homemade Russian comfort food. So hand it over."

Bucky pursed his lips and begrudgingly relinquished the knife to Natasha, who took his place in front of the cutting board and then proceeded to make quick work of chopping up the cabbage. Bucky crossed his arms and asked, "When did you have time to learn how to cook?"

Natasha gave him the side-eye again and said, "Believe it or not, some of us like to eat decent food from time to time instead of living off boxed food and takeout. And that usually means cooking. Besides, you grew up during the Depression. Didn't you learn how to cook at least a few things for yourself?"

"A _few_ things," Bucky shrugged. "But nothing worth mentioning. We boiled everything back then. And Steve was more of the cook between the two of us."

"So he was the girl in the relationship?" Natasha teased.

Bucky rolled his eyes. "Yep. I'd come home from a long day at work and Steve would be slaving away in the kitchen."

"That's extra adorable if he wore an old frilly apron too," she remarked, tossing the now-finished cabbage into a pot.

"Even if he did, I wouldn't say. Guy's got a mean left hook these days." He then paused and said, "By the way, that was an uncharacteristically sexist thing for you to say, about Steve being the girl 'cause he could cook."

Natasha shrugged. "You grew up in an astonishingly sexist time. I'm only imagining what the opinions must have been when it came to you two."

"Nothing much," Bucky shrugged. "Thing back then was that everyone was just trying to survive and figure out where their next meal was coming from. Even though people are more... tolerant or whatever now, they also have a lot more time on their hands to judge other people than they did back then. Not that there weren't exceptions, but... yeah." Then he paused and added, "Besides, Steve would go all rabid chihuahua if anyone ever tried to call him a girl. Not because they called him a girl but because they called him that like it was a bad thing."

Natasha chuckled as she began gathering other ingredients and spices, adjusting the temperature on the oven. "_Rabid chihuahua_."

"It's true," Bucky grinned. "90 pounds of asthma and stupidity barking like he thought he was a Rottweiler."

"Sometimes it's hard for me to imagine him like that," she admitted, "but really, based on all the stories and everything I've ever heard about him back then, he's the exact same man still today."

Bucky nodded. "Mostly. Still stupid, too. Just without the asthma."

Stirring the pot, Natasha smirked and said, "Good thing you weren't there when he jumped out of a moving plane without a parachute."

The wistful, pleasant half-smile that had been on Bucky's face suddenly dropped without warning. "He did _what_?"

"Like you said," she replied wryly over her shoulder, "still stupid."

He rolled his eyes. Fucking _Steve_.

Once the borscht was cooking and all that was left to do was wait for it to be finished, Natasha tasked Bucky with cleaning up the kitchen and then told him with a serious look in her eyes, "Be patient with Summer tonight."

"Patient?" he repeated, slightly confused.

Natasha paused. "I don't know if you've noticed, but she's not sleeping. It's obvious. She's holding a lot in."

Bucky furrowed his brows and let his eyes fall as he thought back to the last couple of nights. She had been sleeping fine... hadn't she? He usually fell asleep first these days, sleep coming a lot more easily now that he knew that she was going to live for quite a few decades to come, but she was always fast asleep whenever he woke up. He was so used to him being the one with the horrible sleep issues that he hadn't even really thought to watch for possible signs of her own issues with it.

"She went through a _lot_," Natasha added. "It's a lot to process and work through, and she didn't have any time to do that. She went from being on death's door to being the healthiest she's ever been in her life in one week."

"I know," Bucky said quietly.

She gave his right arm a friendly, reassuring pat. "She's gonna be fine. Just... try to make her feel as safe as you can. I think she's scared, and I don't blame her. She's not like us. She's not used to people shooting at her."

Natasha would know, having been shot twice by Bucky in the past when he wasn't himself. "Okay," Bucky nodded. "Thanks for all your help."

"Any time," Natasha smiled. "I hope she likes it."

"Me too," Bucky chuckled. "I've never eaten this stuff either."

Natasha sighed sadly and shook her head. "All that time in Russia and they never even gave you a bowl of borscht every now and then."

"Nope," he shrugged. "Hopefully it's better than it smells."

She narrowed her eyes at him and shot back, "You have any complaints, feel free to put them in my suggestion box."

"You don't have a suggestion box," Bucky pointed out.

She flashed him a smile before walking away. "Exactly."

Bucky rolled his eyes after she left, leaving him alone with a messy kitchen to clean and a table to set for two. Steve would be by soon to grab the kids, and then it would be time for his and Summer's first night alone together ever since their last ill-fated home date. He was determined for this one to go much differently and be a success, and he would accept no other end to this very important mission. Summer deserved a good night like this, and he was well aware that they as a couple needed it _badly_.

And so, when the time came and the kitchen was clean and the hearty soup was ready, Steve came by and swooped up the kids for a night of movies and other safe and secure fun outside of the tower. Bucky got the table together with all of the necessities - water, wine, and bread rolls that Wanda had been thoughtful enough to make earlier that day to go specifically with the meal, God bless her - and then he went the extra mile and lit two candles on the table. It might have been cheesy, just a little bit, but he didn't care. He just wanted it all to be perfect and something worthy of a wife like the one that he was lucky enough to have.

Then he texted her to tell her that dinner was ready and that she should take a break from working and come eat. She replied that she'd be there in five minutes, and true to her word, he heard their door open and her quiet footsteps approach in no more than six minutes. He stood by the table anxiously, immediately smiling when she turned the corner and came into view.

She was dressed in dark blue sweatpants and an oversized purple sweater, two of her most comfortable articles of clothing, and her long dark hair was in a haphazard and mostly undone side braid over her right shoulder. She stopped short the moment that she saw the table, the candles, the wine, and the look on Bucky's face as he stood there smiling and looking more nervous than she'd seen him in _ages_.

She smiled and half-stuttered, "Uh..."

"Surprise," he said quietly with a shrug, echoing the same word she'd used when she'd tried her hand at creating their own date all those weeks ago. Her eyes flitted from his back to the table, then back to him and how he was dressed, which was decently nice and certainly better than she was, and when she started to turn around to undoubtedly go change into something better, he held out his hand and said, "Don't, please. It's okay. You're perfect the way you are. This isn't supposed to be fancy or anything. It's just supposed to be..."

"... A date?" she smiled.

He nodded. "And an apology for how our last one ended."

She let out a deep breath and started walking towards him, replying, "You _know_ you didn't have to do all of this."

"Well, I didn't," he admitted with a small laugh, scratching at the back of his neck and turning towards the table. "I tried to do some of the work, but Natasha did most of the cooking. The bread's all Wanda, some kind of Sokovian... stuff. The candles I stole from your box of Hanukkah stuff, which I really hope isn't sacrilegious or something..."

"It's not," she assured him with a giggle. "It's okay. I'm guessing the kids aren't here."

"They're with Steve. He took them to a movie and we've got the place to ourselves," Bucky confirmed, watching her eyes continue to take in everything and trying to gauge her reaction as best he could. Summer continued to smile as she tilted her head at the deep red soup and then looked up to ask him a question.

"What _is_ that?"

"Borscht," he replied. "I know you like trying new things and apparently it's Nat's specialty, so... we're taking a tour of Russia. I can always order something in if you don't like it, but -"

"I love it already," she assured him, closing the short distance between them and laying a soft, sweet kiss on his lips. She was smiling when she pulled away. "You keep getting more and more perfect and I have no idea how you even do it."

"Trust me, I'm not," he assured her, smiling back a bit sadly. "I just... wanted to make up for last time and... make you smile."

The smile stuck on her face grew until her cheeks nearly hurt, and she replied, "Well, mission accomplished."

He took a breath and then stole one more quick kiss before pulling her chair out for her. She took her seat and then he took his, and from there, the date officially got underway. Just like the last time, it came almost effortlessly easily, and they slipped into comfortable conversation like it was second nature, which by then it certainly was, even after all that they had been through.

Summer loved the food, finding it strange at first but each new bite growing on her until she was all but gobbling it up, and the several glasses of wine that they shared made her feel a bit looser and helped her laughter come a bit more freely. They talked about everything from her work to her surprisingly highly devoted fans to the kids and how nice it was to see them slowly getting back to normal, but Bucky was careful to keep the conversation light and pleasant for both of their sakes. He was terrified of ruining the night yet again, and now that he was aware of her sleeping problems, he had to try to stifle his worries and push them aside, and that was no easy feat.

He just wanted to make everything better, if only for a night. And once the dinner was over and Summer was full and content, he knew that he had so far fulfilled that wish. But the night was still young, and he still had another plan up his sleeve.

His next surprise came at the end of a rather lengthy elevator ride up to the very top of the tower, where he led Summer out on the roof and shielded her eyes with his hands until they reached the little spot that he'd prepared for them under the stars. When he dropped his hands, her eyes opened and her jaw dropped at the sight of the blankets piled into a makeshift bed big enough for them both, and she turned around and gaped at him with her big blue eyes the size of saucers.

"Oh my gosh!" she smiled just like he'd hoped she would. "Okay, seriously, you're just getting A-pluses all around tonight."

He smiled, eyes crinkling with the gesture as he took her hand and led her to the blankets. "Well, I know this is cheesy as hell, but..."

"No, no, I love it," she told him sincerely, letting him gently guide her to sit first. "I mean, it's kinda hard to see the stars out here, but... it's still awesome. Stargazing on top of a skyscraper. Pretty impressive stuff."

He shot her an amused look and eased down next to her, looking up at the dark, clear night sky and replying, "Well, apparently my good behavior over the last couple weeks earned me roof privileges. Now I'm allowed to come up here and get fresh air when I need it."

"Good," Summer replied, slightly surprised but happy to hear that. "So now we can come up here and... stargaze?"

He replied with a smile, slipping his right arm around her and pulling her closer before they both looked back up at the sky, falling silent for a little while as they stared at a few of the brighter, more visible stars.

"I can remember being a kid," he said after a few moments, "and doing this with Steve, a lot closer to the ground. We could see a lot more back then, without all the pollution."

"Yeah? Would you wish on the stars?" she asked, smiling and leaning her head down on his shoulder.

"Sometimes," he replied. "Mostly we'd just talk about the future. What what might happen to us, where we might end up someday."

"... What was the consensus?" Summer asked, suddenly full of curiosity.

He smiled wistfully before gently laying them both down on the blankets, keeping her in his arms as he did and keeping his eyes locked on the brightest star in the city sky. "Well, Steve, he wanted to be an artist. Make a decent living off that one way or another, get a wife and some kids. Have a family and be there for them like his dad was never there for him. Name his first little girl after his mom. Just... be happy. Have a happy, normal life."

Summer swallowed, painfully aware that this was the first time that Bucky had opened up to her about his newly regained memories. She had wanted this for so long, before she'd been shot and everything had gone to hell, and now that it had finally come, she could hardly believe it. "What about you?"

"... I don't know," he chuckled. "I mean, I _know_ what I said, but... I don't think I ever really knew what I wanted. Steve, you know, he always had it all figured out. And I tried to myself, but nothing I did ever worked. I wanted to get married, wanted kids, but me and Vivian could never stay together. I was too broke for college and everybody thought I was stupid, I guess 'cause of the way I acted..."

"Wait," Summer interrupted suddenly, instantly aghast and offended on his behalf. "You? _Stupid_? You're like the smartest person I know besides Tony."

"Yeah, well, nobody else thought so," he chuckled. "I guess that's why enlisting was such an easy decision, and not just because I knew I'd get drafted anyway. I knew I could prove myself, serve my country and _really_ be useful. Thought I'd come home once it was over and settle down and get hitched and start a family, but..."

"Yeah," she sighed quietly. They were both quiet for a few minutes, and after a bit of mental debate, Summer told him, "You don't have to tell me everything. I want you to know that. I _want_ to know and want you to trust me enough to tell me it all, but... if you can't, I understand. And I'm sorry for letting it become such a big issue between us. I shouldn't have."

"No," he shook his head, shifting and turning his gaze from the sky to her. "I shouldn't have kept it all from you. Wasn't fair to you. I just didn't want you to know how bad it all was. I still don't."

"Then don't tell me," she told him, genuinely meaning it. "Really. I mean it. If you're not ready or if it's just too hard, I get it."

Bucky merely shook his head again and replied, "I'm gonna tell you everything. I will. Just... not tonight. I don't want tonight to be about all of that."

"Okay," she replied with a smile, snuggling a little closer to him as he continued to gaze down upon her in the soft light of night. He gently cupped her cheek with his flesh hand, brushing aside a few stray hairs near her eyes and looking at her in a way that made her nearly shiver, and not from the slight chill outside. Something about that night and the atmosphere between them felt so blessedly intimate and special that it made her want to almost cry with joy, especially when he leaned in close and kissed her in a way that he hadn't in so very, very long.

He kissed her slowly, carefully, and lovingly, just like he used to when everything had been okay. It was no peck or friendly, routine sort of kiss, but rather the kind of touch that came from a man when he loved a woman more than life itself and would do _anything_ to make her happy. Kissing him like that made her chest ache and countless memories flood through her head, her body and her mind remembering how close they used to be and how this, his arms, used to be the safest place in the world to be.

The kiss lingered and became many more, each kiss lazy and sweet and more than enough to make her limbs tangle with his and her body start craving more. He felt just the same, and when she slung her leg over his hip and felt for herself how excited he had become, that was the thing that made her break the kiss and pull away with a smile.

"Sorry," she giggled faintly, not wanting to draw away from him but feeling like she needed to before they went too far.

"Don't be," he murmured, tugging her back to him. "Come here."

She made a faint noise of surprise as he kissed her again, his tongue slipping past her lips to slide with hers just how he knew she liked, and she melted against him like she always did. His right hand slid from her hair to her side and then her waist, the warm flesh covering the little strip of skin exposed thanks to her sweater riding up slightly. His thumb brushed her skin there affectionately before his hand next went to her thigh, gripping it and pulling her leg tighter against him as he ground against her and caught her lower lip between his teeth. Those two actions combined made Summer gasp softly, and after he released her lip and drew back an inch or two so he could look at her, she stared back at him with a mixture of desire and apprehension.

_God_, she wanted him. She needed him badly, needed this physical aspect of their relationship back, but the thought of trying again and failing was too much to bear.

"We should stop," she said quietly, forcing herself to take a deep, calming breath, which was _not_ easy.

"I don't want to," he replied without hesitation. "_Please_," he whispered, kissing her softly and making her eyes flutter shut and her fingers return to his hair. "I don't care what happens. I almost lost you, I almost..." He trailed off, clenching his jaw as the pain of what they'd been through flashed through his eyes, clear as the night sky. He saw the very same pain in her eyes. "I _need_ you, Summer."

She couldn't deny him. It would kill her if he couldn't ultimately do it and they had to deal with yet another awkward failure, but she wouldn't dare deny him the chance at success. "Here?" she squeaked, smiling and blushing as she gestured to the roof that they were lying on.

"Nobody's here, nobody's gonna see us," he replied, hand sliding up her clothed thigh up to her hip and underneath her sweater, trailing his palm up her bare back. "I just..." he looked down at her lips and then back up to her eyes, _myriads_ of emotions playing out on his face and in his blue eyes. "I wanna be close to you again. I wanna make you feel good, make you happy..."

"You do," she told him quietly, every word that he spoke to her making her heart flip in her chest.

He shook his head. "I haven't been. Not for a long time now. But I'm done with that. I'm done, I promise," he breathed before kissing her again, all hunger and desperation and _love_, and that was almost her final undoing. _Almost_.

"But... but if you... can't," she said softly, breathlessly as he momentarily tore his lips away from hers, her eyes pleading with his. "I don't want you to have to go through that again."

Bucky was many things to many people, but at his core he was still and always would be a _man_ first and foremost. And the memories that her words brought back brought an unpleasant prickle of embarrassment up from deep within, as they would have to any man who had suffered from the same problem at any point in his life. But he was sick of letting that _issue_ hold him back, but most of all, he was sick of fear and sick of letting it influence his actions.

"I'm not afraid of that," he said, the sincerity in his tone and the seriousness in his eyes leaving no room for doubt. "I'm done being afraid. Please," he _begged_ her, kissing her again and pulling her closer so that she could feel how very _ready_ he was for her already. "I _need_ this, I need _you_. I know you need it too."

He lowered his lips to her neck then, kissing her softly and perfectly and all she could do was moan softly in response and cling to him tighter. She tilted her head back to let him kiss her more easily, and as he made his way down to the base of her throat, he pulled the cover over them up a bit higher and then shifted them, easing her on her back and hovering above her as he lifted his head and looked her in the eye. She drew in a deep breath, and a way of giving her consent, she reached down between them to the hem of her sweater and then pulled it over her head. She dropped it somewhere off to the side, watching his eyes drop down to her bare breasts and his tongue dart out to moisten his lips. Then she wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him back down, passionately kissing him and curling both of her legs over his hips and grinding up against him, making him groan with sheer, unmistakable _need_.

Despite the problems that they'd faced, this was still the most natural, sweetest thing in the world. They kissed and touched and made each other tremble with growing desire, Bucky's shirt coming off next before his hands almost clumsily got rid of her pants and the lace panties beneath them. Then his flesh fingers were there between her parted legs and his mouth on her breast, making her moan and nearly fall apart on the spot. She was so wound up and it had been so long since he had made her feel this way that she felt like she was on the edge immediately, gasping and rocking her hips in sync with his fingers. All the while his mouth wreaked havoc on her breasts, switching from one to the other and making her feel so good that she thought she could scream.

But right when she was there, seconds from falling apart under his fingers, he pulled his hand away and lifted his head up as well, looking her in the eye as he began slowly slinking down her body. He took the blanket over them with him, the cool night air hitting her completely exposed skin the farther down he went. He dropped his head again and kissed down her belly, until he reached a part of her skin that made him stop and stare and remember just why she was so lucky to be alive.

The bullet wound was no longer fresh and ugly or even painful, for the most part, and thanks to the healing properties of Steve's blood, it was scarred over and fading already. Taking a breath, Bucky reached two flesh fingers to trace the scar, staring at the wound that had come terrifyingly close to taking Summer's life and leaving his children motherless. Soft fingertips running through his hair made Bucky peek up, and when he met Summer's eyes, she gave him a small and tight but comfortable smile. He leaned into her touch, then closed his eyes and pressed his lips to her scar. He was the reason that she had it, and he'd spend the rest of his life trying to make up for all the pain and suffering that he had caused her.

He kept his lips on her, kissing further down until she was squirming a little and opening her legs wider to him in a silent plea. He didn't tease her, settling down on his stomach between her legs and looking up at her as he eased each one over his shoulders. He then kissed her inner thigh, closing his eyes and focusing every last bit of his attention on her and making her feel as good as he possibly could. He slowly kissed and nipped his way to her center, making her moan and cover her mouth with her own hand once he finally made it _there_. Her thighs trembled around his head and her body _sang_ for him, her inhibitions fading into the night as she writhed in pleasure beneath the stars.

He devoured her like a starving man, and he truly was one, in every way that counted. He was achingly hard for her and she tasted even sweeter than he remembered, and the first time she came on his tongue with a gasp of his name and erratic shaking of her body from head to toe, he couldn't bring himself to stop. He looked up at her, all flushed and wrecked with pleasure, and he admired her just long enough for her to catch her breath. Then he put his mouth on her again, and this time she gasped and almost squirmed away, but he held her still. And when the near-pain of his touch had faded into heaven again, he brought two metal fingers up to join his mouth in its tireless efforts, and the way that she cried out, he wouldn't have been surprised if she woke half the city.

After one more release that came on slower than the first but lasted even longer for how carefully and sweetly he worked it out of her, Bucky pulled away with a heavy groan and caught his breath as she nearly slipped into a coma of pure bliss. His face was a mess and she had all but ruined the covers beneath them already, but he didn't care and he knew she wouldn't either. Breathing hard, he slowly started sliding back up her body, kissing her here and there until he reached her lips that she'd bitten swollen only moments before. She opened her eyes and blinked up at him with a dazed smile, and he smiled back before he kissed her deeply and let her taste herself.

"I've missed that so much," he groaned against her lips, arousal pressing insistently and impatiently on her thigh. "So fucking good, didn't want to stop..."

"If you hadn't, I might have fainted," she giggled, looking up at him and running her hands down the front of his chest. He loved the way that she looked right then - pale under the starlight and eyes heavy with satisfaction and desire, but there was one thing he wanted and needed from her before they went any further. Her hair was still in a haphazard, incredibly messy braid over her shoulder, and that simply wouldn't do. Not tonight.

This time, it was his metal fingers that reached down her body, tickling over her belly as he took the bottom of her braid in hand. He slid the hair tie securing the braid away and set it aside, then began unraveling her hair piece by wavy piece. He did it slowly, making eye contact with Summer halfway through, and there was something surprisingly intimate about it. Maybe it was because of her hair and how it had been one of the first things that had ever drawn him to her, or maybe it was the way that she looked at him as he did it, so trusting and loving and _alive_. Against every odd imaginable, she was _here_ and so was he, and they had this night to share.

Once her hair was completely loose and free, Summer surged up and kissed him, and he let her overpower him and push him down on his back. She swung her leg across his hips and got on top of him, the blanket curled and tangled somewhere around their thighs and doing nothing to hide the tantalizing view of her body from his eyes. She kissed him before straightening up and blushing under the heat of his gaze, biting her lip and smiling when his hands slid up to cup both of her breasts as she teasingly ground herself down against him. His grips tightened and he groaned with need, and she lost any will she might have had to keep teasing him.

Raising up just enough so she could reach down and take him in hand, she then sunk down upon him and lost her breath at the sensation. He almost came undone right then, the heat and tightness of her body stretching and engulfing him making his mind go blessedly blank and a wave of pleasure crash through his body.

The world and their problems and his fear were all a million miles away. For them, the rooftop and this beautiful, desperately needed moment between them was all there was.

"_Fuck_," he ground out through gritted teeth when she started to move, rocking her hips back and forth as she slowly slid up and down, up and down. His hands fell to her hips, her thighs, everything that he could reach as she took her pleasure from him. He watched as her eyes rolled shut and she arched her back, letting out a long, shaky exhale as she moved in ways that made them both slowly lose their minds.

She was so gorgeous like that, such a fucking goddess with her hair dark and wild and down as she rode him how she pleaded, and he told her that. He told her the next time she leaned down to kiss him and let her breasts drag across his chest, the words tumbling roughly from his mouth in Russian before he had a chance to even think about it. Though she didn't understand, she moaned at his growling of the language in her ear, and then she straightened up again and he followed, sitting up and crushing her to his chest as their pace picked up and became more intense.

Pressed together as close as two people could be, they kissed passionately and held each other tight as she bounced in his lap and he thrusted up into her, hitting all the right places and making her moan in delight into his mouth. She was still so _fucking_ hot and tight and he thought he might lose his mind, kissing feverishly at her neck and grasping her hips to bounce her _on_ him, loving the way that she cried out in response.

He was close, and so was she. He knew that, and that was when the fear started to claw its way back to the surface. If he couldn't finish again... if he got her there but then couldn't get there himself yet again and they had to stop...

He tried to ignore that thought and others that inevitably followed, but it was a losing battle. Luckily, however, Summer knew him well enough to know exactly what was happening and put a stop to it.

"Hey," she said, cupping his face and halting their movements as she guided him to look her in the eye and focus entirely upon her. "It's okay. Bucky, look at me. Look at me. I'm right here, and we're safe. And you're..." she paused and swallowed, her face turning a deep shade of red as she added, "you're gonna come for me, just like I am for you."

He blinked at her in surprise, those words uncharacteristic and incredibly hot coming from her lips. She then pushed him to lay down on his back, taking his hands and placing them above his head. She then interlocked her fingers with his, holding his hands down where they were, and she kissed him softly but passionately before rolling her hips and making his entire body jerk.

Summer taking control was exactly what he'd needed. Laying there at her mercy, her gentle hands holding him down and her body rocking and _taking_ him like they both needed, it chased away the doubts and the fear that had tried to ruin it all at the last minute. He gave in to her completely, letting go and letting her take him to the end.

They both neared the edge as her forehead pressed to his and breathless, blissful moans spilled from her mouth.

"I love you so much," he told her, so close to losing his mind and needing her to know how much he loved her. Her eyes opened and found his wild with heat and also heavy with sincerity that broke her heart and stitched it back together all in one look. "_I love you_."

"I love you too," she told him, her eyes filling with tears that didn't fall but shined brightly enough for him to see.

Then several words flew out of his mouth before he could help it or do a single thing to stop it. "Don't forget me. _Promise_ me."

Her brows knit together and pain clouded her eyes as she replied, "Never, I _swear_. _Never, never_..." She kept chanting that word until her pleasure overcome her and she lost the ability to form words. But she stayed coherent long enough to watch him fall apart first, his first orgasm in ages finally, _finally _hitting him as his hands clamped down on hers hard enough to hurt and his eyes rolled shut, his back arching and mouth falling open and letting out what was first a gasp and then became a moan that was just a little bit higher pitched than the usual rough, deep groans that she was used to hearing from his mouth. The still-rich and slightly rough sound of it made her self-control snap and her own end wash over her alongside him.

To say that it was perfect didn't do it justice. It was more than sex, more than pleasure, more than intimacy, even. It was a reclaiming of Bucky's identity back from the forces constantly there in his head, trying to rip him apart from the inside out. It was a victory over his self-doubt and fear, and perhaps most importantly of all, it was exactly what they had both needed. It was an exercise in healing as much as in pleasure, and when Summer collapsed in a heap on his chest, he held her close and they stayed like that for longer than either of them could have ever known.

He stroked his flesh fingers up and down her spine, both of them slowly catching their breaths and coming down from the exquisite high. He grasped at the blanket down at their legs when she shivered, and then he covered them both up, pressing a kiss to her head and reveling in how she felt draped over him and still joined to him intimately.

Summer, for her part, finally felt like she was truly back home.

He was the first to speak, after she let out a breathy yawn against his chest. "Gonna fall asleep on me, sweetheart?"

She nodded, eyes closed and lips parted already. "I haven't been sleeping very well, but... I feel like I could sleep for a week after _that_."

His grin faded at the mention of her sleep trouble. "Then sleep. I'll get you back in our bed later."

She made a small noise of protest. "But we're on the roof... _naked_."

His lips quirked with amusement. "Don't worry about it. Just try to sleep."

"It's so hard lately," she groaned, eyes still shut and her body desperately needing sleep. "I know I'm physically fine now but I'm always afraid that I'm not gonna wake up. Or I _will_ wake up, but I'm gonna wake up choking on a tube again."

"You're not," he assured her. "I can promise you that. You're safe. I've got you. Go to sleep, babydoll."

She let out a tiny, exhausted whine. "_Babydoll_. You're trying to kill me."

He grinned again. "Just returning the favor."

She sighed and settled in closer, apparently deciding to give in to him and get some sleep. "I love you," she said, punctuating those words with a little kiss to his chest. "And I'm really glad we... uh... successfully... y'know..."

"Yeah," he grinned, the relaxation and contentment flooding through his veins utterly intoxicating. He kissed the top of her head again and then closed his eyes, prepared to stay up there on that roof all night long if it meant Summer catching up on her sleep. "I love you too."

She made an indiscernible sound before drifting off to sleep at last. He closed his eyes and followed her soon after into slumber, holding her close and not letting go all night.

They felt like _them_ again, and he had a piece of himself back. It was only a piece, however, and they were both still pretty broken these days, but those were problems for another time. For then, it was time to sleep, and _finally_, sleep they did.


	65. Chapter 65

**A/N: So sorry for the wait here, guys, but at last I give you a new chapter! :D Getting pretty darn close to the end of the story now - maybe like... three or four chapters left after this? - and I gotta tell you guys, I am so incredibly excited to have come this far and to still have all of you wonderful readers who care and follow this story. It means the world to me, and I hope you'll continue to stick around to the very end and beyond, since as I've stated before, I've still got lots planned for this ****couple in this "LAD-verse" and yeah, I'm basically never gonna be done with them LOL. So thank you all so much for each and every review and follow and message (and to all the silent lurky readers too :D). I love you all and I'll see you soon! :D**

Early in the morning two weeks later, Summer found herself sitting in the gallery of the familiar courtroom downtown, trying not to vomit. She felt nauseous, anxious, and beneath her crisp and appropriately stylish blue and white suit, she was trembling slightly and fidgeting with her fingers in her lap.

Steve and Natasha sat next to her, forming a sort of protective shield around her meant to ease her mind. She simply couldn't believe that this was happening.

Later today, she would be taking the stand herself and delivering her own testimony, but that wasn't what had her so nervous and distressed. What did was the identity of the witness taking the stand first that day, a new one that the prosecution had added to their witness list only days before.

Her mind drifted back to that moment just a few hours earlier back at the tower, where Matt and Foggy had been prepping her for the stand when the latter had wondered aloud just who this new witness was and why they were relevant to the case.

* * *

_"Some guy from Fall's Church," Foggy said, shrugging as he looked over a piece of paper on the table. "Mark Sanders. Any idea who that is?"_

_The moment the name left Foggy's lips, Summer's heart dropped like a stone in her chest. Her breath left her in a rush, and beside her, Bucky's previously relaxed expression grew dark and vicious in a flash._

_"... Are you sure?" Summer asked in a small voice, even though she already knew the answer. _

_Foggy nodded, glancing back and forth between her and Bucky with confusion. "Yeah. You know him?"_

_She swallowed dryly, her gaze flickering to Matt for a moment as she debated just how much to divulge. Her heart was pounding in her chest and she could feel her hands already starting to tremble, and while she certainly didn't want to ever have to tell the story ever again to anyone, these two men were Bucky's lawyers and they needed to know everything. _

_She cleared her throat and forced her voice to remain steady as she began, "Mark was my boyfriend in high school. He... one night he got me drunk, and then he raped me. That's how I had my son. That's how I know him."_

_The quietly horrified looks on the lawyers faces said it all. It wasn't pity, however, and for that Summer was grateful. _

_"Why would the prosecution want him?" Matt asked her, knowing that she hadn't yet divulged the full story. _

_She took another deep breath. "Awhile ago - a few years ago, when I still had my house in Virginia - Bucky was visiting me, and Mark showed up to see David. He hadn't seen him in five years, but out of nowhere he decided to come and try. He wouldn't leave when I told him to, so Bucky... roughed him up."_

_Matt raised an eyebrow. "Roughed him up?"_

_"I broke his leg and beat the shit out of him," Bucky replied bluntly, still wearing that dark, murderous glare. "He can't have kids now because of what I did to him."_

_Matt and Foggy fell silent for a moment before the former shrugged in approval and Foggy remarked, "Right on."_

_Summer glanced at Bucky and reminded herself to keep breathing as she added, "I saw him again before we got married, to get him to sign over his parental rights. I thought I was done with him. I can't believe this is happening right now."_

_"Well, we know which story the prosecution is gonna use from him," Matt replied. "Supports their contention that Bucky's violent and unstable if we don't give the story some context."_

_Summer felt her heart sinking even more, and if she wasn't careful, she'd be in the throes of a full blown anxiety attack any minute. "We're gonna need to tell the jury about... what he did to me."_

_"Well... did you ever press charges?" Foggy asked. When she shook her head to the negative, he added, "Then this is going to devolve into a he said she said thing fast."_

_"Most rapes are unreported," Matt pointed out. "Doesn't mean they don't happen."_

_"I know," Foggy nodded, "but what I'm saying is, Summer, if you don't want to have this story dragged through court and have it become public knowledge, you don't have to. We can find another angle."_

_Summer chewed her lip and then turned to Bucky. He looked at her with that intense, protective gaze of his, and she knew deep down that there was really no other option. This chapter of her history was hard and traumatic and it was the last thing that she wanted to go public with, but it happened to countless women every day and saying nothing would do nothing to prevent that. Summer was sick of letting this small, cowardly man from her past scare her and make her feel sick from the inside out at the mere mention of his name. _

_This trial was what stood between her and a life with the father of her children and the love of her life. She would do everything in her power to not allow Mark to have even the slightest influence on the jury's eventual decision. _

_"No," she decided. "We give the story context. I don't care about the proof or what people might say about me."_

_"Are you sure?" Matt asked her, genuine concern in his tone and etched on his features. _

_She nodded resolutely. "I'm sure." _

* * *

Now here she was, waiting for her son's biological father to take the stand, sandwiched between two Avengers who would likely rip out the man's throat if he so much as looked at Summer the wrong way. She was safe and well-cared for, but Summer still felt as if she might be ill at any moment.

She knew that Bucky felt utter _rage_ at this unexpected development. He regretted not killing the man when he had the chance, and he hated Mark even more for continuing to cause Summer distress this long after what he had first done to her.

It was more than just the rape that Bucky hated him for. It was the constant verbal abuse that had wrecked Summer's already suffering self-esteem, all the ways in which he had made her feel defective and insecure and as if every last little thing was her fault. She had come a long way since the early days of her and Bucky's relationship, but she still bore scars of damage inflicted by that man that Bucky knew might never fully heal. Mark had taken a bright and beautiful young woman and crushed her under the weight of his arrogance and idiocy, and those weren't sins that Bucky thought should ever be forgiven.

Now Summer had to face him all over again, because life was simply cruel in that way.

She went through the courtroom motions robotically, standing when the judge entered and trying not to lapse into a panic when the day's first witness was finally called soon after. She sat there and stared down at her hands as her ex made his way to the stand, until she remembered how angry she was and how _little_ he was. He might have been taller than her and bigger than her, but he was less than the dirt under her shoe and she raised her eyes and looked at him like that was exactly what he was.

Plus, she had Steve's super-blood in her system now, and she probably _could_ break Mark in half now if she wanted to. Or at least hit him harder than she ever could have hoped to before.

He didn't look up until he approached the stand, and when he did, his eyes automatically fell on Summer. The same brown eyes that belonged to David stared at her blankly as he straightened out his suit, looking far less homeless and depressed than he had looked when she'd last encountered him. Then he looked away in order to swear on the Bible placed in front of him, and then after swearing to tell the truth, he sat.

Summer felt a hand on hers. She looked up at Natasha, whom the hand belonged to, and she nodded in response to the wordless question in the other woman's concerned eyes.

She was okay. She had no other choice but to be okay, and she had no interest in letting that man cause her any more pain than he already had.

Natasha squeezed her hand, and Steve gave Summer a reassuring nod when she glanced his way. She gave him a tight, grateful smile, then turned to watch Mark's testimony unfold.

Special Prosecutor Katherine Campbell began her line of questioning with a simple statement. "Mr. Sanders, you have a very personal connection to the wife of the defendant, correct?"

"That is correct, ma'am," he replied, voice a little shaky. He was obviously nervous.

Summer nearly became sick at the sound of his voice. She _hated_ that voice. That voice had been the one to cut her down during her teen years, and then in adulthood had haunted her nightmares.

"Explain for the jury."

"She and I have a son together," he replied, eyes flickering briefly to Bucky, whose already dark expression grew even more displeased. David was Bucky's son in every way that counted, and yet here was his sperm donor claiming to still be the child's father.

"Is it true that you no longer have parental rights to this son of yours?"

"Yes," Mark replied. "They... Mr. &amp; Mrs. Barnes came to my house and bullied me into signing my rights away a couple years ago, so he could adopt my son."

"Bullied you how?"

"Physically threatened me and intimidated me," Mark replied, and Summer almost laughed. She had been the one to do the pushing around that time, but she could hardly believe he was truly intimidated by her.

"And did you have reason to believe that they, specifically the defendant, would follow through on these threats?"

"Yes," Mark nodded. "A few years before that, I, uh... I wanted to see my son, so I paid him and his mother a visit. He was there - the Winter Soldier was there - and when I asked if I could see my son, he threw me out of the house and beat me until I left."

Summer rolled her eyes. _Oh yeah, poor pitiful little victim_.

_"_Describe your injuries._"_

Mark cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably. "Well, he broke my leg. Dislocated my shoulder, bruised my ribs, mild concussion."

"Any lasting damage?" the prosecutor asked.

"Yes, I can't... I'm infertile," he explained awkwardly. "Due to... trauma."

Bucky fought hard not to grin with pride. Summer did too, but Natasha had no such qualms and grinned to herself before looking down into her lap and schooling her features.

"Describe Mr. Barnes during the attack."

"Well, he was out of control," Mark replied. "Sort of like an animal. Savage and unhinged. I thought he was gonna kill me."

That wasn't even true, and Mark knew it. Bucky had actually been rather eerily calm the whole time, each blow dealt with precision and thought, and while Bucky had certainly considered it, Mark's life had never in danger.

"And what was the reason for the beating? Did the defendant ever mention it?"

"He wanted me to stay away from them, from my son and my ex," Mark replied. "All I wanted to do was see my little boy. I hadn't seen him in years, because I'd been working on Texas and his mo-, Summer and I weren't on good terms."

"Did you report the assault?" Campbell asked.

"No," he shook his head. "I should have, but I was scared. He said he'd kill me if I told anyone."

_That_ one was true, Summer knew. She glanced at the jury, and while most of them looked neutral, a few were clearly concerned by what they were hearing.

_Dammit_.

"Did what you experienced at the defendant's hands have any lasting effect on you psychologically?" the prosecutor asked next.

"Yes," he muttered, looking down. "My, uh, my therapist said it triggered depression and anxiety. I have nightmares, I can't sleep. I was paranoid for a long time, thinking he would find me and kill me. I started drinking a lot, lost my job, moved back home with my dad. I'm better now and I'm working again, but nothing's been the same since the attack."

If anything he was saying was true, Summer felt no sympathy for Mark. The bastard deserved the trauma, deserved to know what it was like to be the one suffering and having nightmares and to feel the sort of pain that she had known since the night he went too far and nearly killed her in his drunken furor. He deserved all of that and more.

"Do you feel afraid, being in the same room as Mr. Barnes?" Campbell finally inquired.

Mark nodded. "Yes."

Campbell then showed the jury photos of Mark's injuries, taken about a day after he'd acquired them. After that, she handed the witness to the defense, and Matt stood up with his cane in hand as he slowly approached the bench.

Summer still felt vaguely ill, but she had high hopes for Matt Murdock's ability to handle the idiot.

"Mr. Sanders," Mart began, coming to a halt just in front of the bench. "Did you ever, at any point in time, give the defendant a reason to want to harm you?"

"No," Mark lied. "All I wanted to do was see my son."

"Prior to that visit, when was the last time you had seen the boy?"

"When he was six months old," Mark admitted.

"Six months old," Matt repeated. "That's a long time. Can you tell the jury why your relationship with Mrs. Barnes was so strained for so long?"

"We... had a difficult breakup," he replied. "Typical... high school drama."

Apparently, rape and resulting pregnancy was simply _high school drama_. Who knew?

Matt paused, sightless eyes trained in Mark's direction behind his reflective glasses. "You are aware that perjury is a crime, Mr. Sanders?"

The prosecutor objected to the line of questioning. The judge told Matt to make his point, so he did.

"Given the lack of supporting evidence to your claims, aside from a few old blurry photos of injuries that you could have sustained from a car accident or a fight with someone else," Matt said, "the prosecution seems to consider hearsay to be solid testimony. Did you see a doctor immediately following the assault?"

"I saw a... doctor friend," Mark replied.

"A doctor friend. You didn't go to the hospital?"

"No," Mark confirmed.

"Did you talk to any sort of authority immediately after to document the fact that you were indeed assaulted by a ninety-something year old World War Two veteran?"

"No."

"So the only record of this assault actually occurring are the photos that were just shown a few minutes ago?"

Mark hesitated. "... Yes."

"In that case, using the same criteria applied to rape victims in the courtroom, it's reasonable to conclude that the assault most likely didn't occur."

Mark blinked. "... What?"

"If a woman is raped by a man and doesn't immediately go to an ER and have the evidence of the assault documented and preserved by authorities, then there is no physical evidence that a rape occurred," Matt explained. "It's her word against his, and more often than not, the man walks free. Do you consider this fair?"

The prosecutor objected again. The judge gave Matt one last chance to wrap it up.

Foggy then stood up with a piece of paper in hand and delivered it to the judge.

"I apologize for speaking in riddles," Matt told the jury with a small grin. "I'll cut to the chase. If an assault did occur at my client's hands, which is a notion wholly unsupported by the evidence, then we contend that the reason behind such a violent outburst would have likely been the fact that Mr. Sanders raped Mrs. Barnes and impregnated her when she was 17. We have an affidavit from Mrs. Barnes attesting to this."

The prosecutor nearly lost her marbles at that point. The judge, looking mildly exasperated and displeased with _everybody_, looked over the affidavit and then reluctantly let Matt wrap up his questions.

Mark looked as if he might pass out and throw up in the same breath. Summer stared ahead stoically, showing nothing but strength on the outside while on the inside, she was a mess.

Natasha gave her hand another squeeze.

"Do you deny what Mrs. Barnes swears occurred between the two of you on the night of your biological son's conception?" Matt asked.

"Yes!" Mark blurted, visibly starting to sweat and looking very panicked. "I never touched her!"

"You didn't?" Matt asked, raising a brow. "Then how did you conceive a child?"

"I never - I mean, I touched her, obviously, but it wasn't - it was consensual." Mark was a terrible liar and always had been.

"Do you have evidence to support your claim?"

"No, but -"

"Does she have evidence to support hers?"

"No, none."

Matt paused. "Then she only has her word, just as you only have your word when it comes to your claim that James Barnes was the one who beat you senseless. But you're asking a jury to believe you and not believe her. Can you give me one single compelling reason _why_ they should believe you and not give her the same benefit of the doubt?"

Mark had no idea what to say. He faltered for a moment, starting to answer and stopping several times before finally muttering, "He's the violent one here, not me. We all know he's killed people. I've never hurt anyone."

"But that's not true, is it?" Matt asked. "Tell me, is it true that you served three months in a Texas prison for assault charges brought by a woman court papers described as your ex fiancé?"

Mark gulped. "I - it was a plea deal, I didn't do it. I didn't do it, I just didn't want to go to jail for five years."

Undeterred, Matt went on, "Is it not also true that you've been arrested twice in the last two years for driving under the influence, the second time after an accident that injured a pedestrian due to your drunk driving?"

Mark was utterly stricken. Summer was shocked at how much they had managed to dig up on Mark in a handful of hours. She suspected that Karen Page, their resourceful and passionate assistant, was to thank for that.

"... Yes, that's true. But my drinking problem was a result of what he did to me," Mark said, jabbing a finger in Bucky's direction.

"In the same vein," Matt replied, "if the assault did hypothetically occur at my client's hands - which we wholeheartedly deny - he would have certainly had a compelling reason to commit the act. His girlfriend's rapist and tormentor shows up at her door to see the child that his assault produced, then won't leave when she tells him to get out of her house. I would argue that most men would resort to force to protect their loved ones in that situation. Would you agree, Mr. Sanders?"

Mark gaped and faltered for a moment, vaguely resembling a bewildered fish. "I... no, I don't."

Matt nodded. "No further questions."

And with that, Mark was excused from the witness stand. Summer let out a breath that she had been holding the entire time he'd been speaking, and though she was still shaking and still felt like she was going to be ill, she was relieved that it was over.

Then, as Mark walked to exit the courtroom, he glanced Summer's way one last time. He then paled and looked away almost immediately, because staring back at him were Summer's utterly murderous blue eyes that glared at him with such force that had she been an enhanced individual like some of her friends, she just might have killed him. Years' worth of loathing and anger that she had silently harbored for him pierced his very soul in that glare of hers, and the look of mild terror on his face as he hurried out was one of the most satisfying things she had ever felt. Then it was over, and reality returned in the next breath.

She knew that her story and her affidavit would become public knowledge in a matter of minutes. Journalists in the courtroom were already tapping away on their devices and preparing their later reports. Summer never wanted that story of hers to be known beyond her inner circle, and in fact many of her friends didn't even know it, but there was no going back now.

She just hoped that it was worth it.

* * *

Mark didn't stick around following his testimony. When the court took a recess for lunch, Summer had half hoped to encounter him in one of the hallways so that she could have given him a piece of her mind and maybe told him how badly she wished he'd be hit by a bus for all that he'd done, but he was gone and she never got the chance. At least she'd managed to shoot him that death glare, if nothing else.

It was just as well, really. She needed to focus on her testimony, which was exactly what she did over lunch until court went back in session.

She felt as if she had been preparing her testimony for ages, and in some ways, maybe she had. Ever since the very beginning of the trial, she knew that she would eventually take the stand and influence the verdict one way or another, and it was a terrifying thing to anticipate. But the day was here, and she had to put aside her fear and keep moving, just as she always did.

Just before the recess ended, Bucky and Summer managed to steal a quiet moment in the corner of the conference room that the rest of the team was in. Bucky's eyes were full of concern for Summer as he held her hand and leaned in close, his voice low enough for only her to hear.

"You okay?" he asked her, searching her features that weren't as guarded in that moment as they had been earlier.

She shrugged. "I don't know. I'm kind of just... I don't know why I'm surprised." She smiled humorlessly. "He always comes back. I'm supposed to be focused on my testimony and now instead I want to throw up because of what he said about you."

"Matt did a pretty good job of making him look like an idiot," Bucky replied. "He's the last thing I'm worried about when it comes to this trial. I'm just sorry that you had to see his face again."

She shrugged again, forcing a smile on her face as she met his eyes. "I'm okay. I have to be okay. I've gotta do this and... get it over with."

Bucky nodded and let out a breath before leaning closer and kissing her forehead. "I'm sorry. You wouldn't have to deal with any of this if it wasn't for me."

Summer sighed and shook her head. "I'm the reason you got arrested, remember? So that's not true."

"Yes it is," he replied, looking her in the eyes before placing a soft, comforting kiss on her lips. Then he pulled away and said, "I love you. This is all... gonna be over soon."

It really was. The trial was slowly coming to a close, not many witnesses left now, and closing arguments wouldn't be too far away after this day. The thought of that made Summer's already uneasy stomach twist and turn in tighter knots.

They shared one more quiet moment together before Foggy approached and told them that it was time to go. They both nodded, held on to each other a little longer, and then turned and walked hand in hand out of the conference room and back to the courtroom.

Summer spent the short journey praying hard that she wouldn't make everything worse.

* * *

Sworn in and seated at the witness stand, Summer's hands were in her lap and her fingers were fidgeting as they had been all morning. The room looked brighter than usual from where she sat, and unlike all the previous days where she had sat in the gallery, she could see Bucky's face as he sat at the defense table. His gaze was on her, and she knew that he was trying to help her feel better, but she was convinced that she was doomed to be a wreck until she was excused.

Her only comfort was that Foggy was the one to question her first.

"Tell us about the day you met the defendant," Foggy said, standing a few yards away from her and beginning his well-rehearsed line of questioning.

Well aware that every person in the entire room was focused on her and her alone, Summer pushed through her fear and swallowed down an unpleasant lump in her throat as she replied, "It was about five years ago, the day that SHIELD collapsed. I lived in my grandmother's old house outside of Fall's Church, and I was starting dinner when my son saw something outside and walked out the door. I went after him and found him standing over what I thought might have been a dead body in my front yard."

"And that was the defendant, correct?"

Summer nodded. "First thing I did was get my son inside and get my gun. I had no idea who this person was and I had been watching the news all day, so I was even more cautious than usual."

"What happened next?"

"He woke up. He took my gun from me, turned it on me and asked who I was. I told him my name, and I saw how badly injured he was. He looked like he'd been shot a couple times."

"Did he continue to threaten you with the gun?" Foggy asked.

"No," Summer replied. "He kept the gun, but he turned it away from me and just... marched inside my house. I told him to stop and that he needed a hospital, but he said we were both in danger now and to get inside. So I did."

"Were you frightened?"

"Of course I was," Summer replied, heart pounding nervously as she spoke. "I had no idea who he was or what he was capable of. I was terrified."

"Did he continue to threaten you?"

Summer shook her head. "No. Actually, I threatened him. He passed out after we got inside, and when he woke up, I turned my gun on him and told him to get out."

"Did he leave?"

"No," she replied. "He waited until I was distracted and he took my gun from me again. He didn't point it anywhere, though. Just kept it. Then he asked me for food." She glanced at Bucky, both of them finding it hard to believe that their first encounter had been such a chaotic and terrifying thing. It felt like it had happened in another life.

"He asked you for food?"

She nodded. "He ate some and then threw it up on my floor. He also had no idea who he was. He didn't know his name or what he was doing or why he couldn't eat. His head hurt him a lot, too. He was a mess."

"How long did he stay in your house?"

"A month," Summer replied. "I didn't exactly invite him to stay at first. I wanted him out. But I figured out who he was pretty early on. I listened to him scream in his sleep every night and watched him try to eat and end up throwing up everything I tried to feed him, and it was... it was pretty bad. But he was never violent to me or my son. He never pointed a gun at me again. He never once threatened to hurt us."

"What did he do while he stayed with you? Describe his general behavior and state of mind."

"Well, he read a lot," she replied. "I had a lot of books and he read almost all of them. He read history books, some of my college textbooks, some science stuff too. He kept to himself and didn't talk much. He eventually got to the point where he could eat real food and keep it down, and that was mainly all he did - eat, read, sleep. But he always screamed more than he slept."

"Did he become aware of his identity while he was staying with you?"

She nodded. "I showed him an article from the Internet about his story and... how he had supposedly died in 1945 and then became the Winter Soldier. That was how he found out that it was all true."

"How did he react?"

"Not very well," Summer said with a small, sad smile. "He didn't confide in me or even talk to me much at that point, but it was obvious how horrified he was. He went outside after he read the article and... took it all out on some trees in the woods outside my house. I found him crying and I got him to come back inside after awhile."

"You felt sympathy for him?"

She nodded. "It was impossible not to. Even back then when he barely knew who he was, it was obvious that he's not a naturally violent or dangerous man. He was quiet and... thoughtful, and... the guilt that he felt for what HYDRA made him do just crushed him."

Her eyes flickered to Bucky's for a moment. His gaze was heavy with memories from that difficult time, and she wished that he didn't have to relive it all like this.

"What eventually led to him leaving your home?" Foggy asked next.

She took a deep breath. "Well, it was pretty obvious that he needed help. Real help. I couldn't give him that, so after awhile he let me contact Steve Rogers. He came and took Bucky to New York at the end of that month. Got him in therapy, got him the help he needed."

"And that entire month, the defendant never harmed you or made you feel as if you were in danger again?"

She shook her head. "Not once. Not even close. He saved my life and my son's life during that month, when HYDRA tracked him to my house and knocked on my door. They came in and put a gun to my son's head and told me they'd kill him if I didn't tell them where Bucky was."

"What happened?"

"Bucky killed them both," Summer replied calmly. "And if he hadn't, me and my son would both be dead."

Foggy nodded, and the members of the jury glanced at each other following Summer's answer. "When did your relationship with the defendant begin? Was it during that month?"

"No," Summer answered. "It began a couple months later, when I visited him in New York."

"And you and Mr. Barnes have been together ever since," Foggy replied.

"Yes," she nodded.

"Over the last five years, he legally adopted your son as his own. The two of you got married, and fairly recently had a new child together, correct?"

"Correct."

"Mr. Barnes has continued therapy during these years," Foggy went on, "exhibited stable and healthy behavior confirmed by his psychologist and by his peers, held down a steady job with the Avengers and was a key figure in several missions that saved an estimated 500 American lives from the threat of domestic terrorism."

Summer tried not to smile. "That's right."

"Keeping all of that in mind," Foggy said, "would you then consider Mr. Barnes to be a dangerous man or a threat to the public?"

"He's not a threat to the public," Summer replied with a shake of her head. "And he's only dangerous when it comes to the bad guys. He's lived the last five years wanting to make up for everything that HYDRA made him do, and he's done that. He's saved a lot more lives than just mine. He..." She paused and took a breath, heart still fluttering in her chest and fingers tingling as she gathered her words. "He still feels the guilt and the horror of everything they made him do every single day. He'll feel it until the day he dies, but he uses that to be a better man and to remember who he is and... rebuild what they broke. Every crime that he's been charged with, every last one, _none_ of it was really him. We've all seen the footage now, and we know that. So no, he's not a dangerous man. He's a _good_ man who was put through a living hell that none of us could ever comprehend, and he _survived_. He survived and he didn't let it destroy him. He's a hero, and I'm not just saying that because I'm his wife. I'm saying because it's the truth."

Foggy nodded and gave Summer a small, satisfied smile before he nodded. "No further questions."

She let out a deep breath. She hadn't planned on making that little impromptu semi-speech, but she did it and she didn't regret a thing. Her time on the stand, however, wasn't quite over yet. Now it was the prosecutor's turn.

As the woman approached, Summer looked at Bucky and smiled subtly at him. His gaze was soft, blue eyes giving away how touched he was by every word she had said, even though it was hardly the first time he'd heard her say such things.

Behind him, Steve and Natasha looked unquestionably proud of her. Sam was there too, and Wanda had showed up too just before Summer took the stand. Paul would have been there too, but he was watching David and Adelaide for her that day. She knew she had his support all the same.

And now came the hard part.

"Mrs. Barnes," began Katherine Campbell, and Summer's anxiety spiked for a thousandth time that day. "Why do you no longer reside outside of Fall's Church, Virginia?"

Summer swallowed and replied bluntly, "Because four years ago, Brock Rumlow blew up my house trying to kill Bucky."

"Is it true that you were present during the bombing of Stark Tower a few years ago?" the prosecutor asked next.

"Yes," Summer replied, wondering exactly how this woman knew this. Then again, it probably wasn't too difficult, considering her resources.

"Only a few weeks ago, you were shot by an assassin sent to kill Mr. Barnes," Campbell noted next. "Including the story you told us a few moments ago about two HYDRA agents invading your home, that's four times that being associated with the Winter Soldier nearly killed you. You say he isn't dangerous, but it seems your life has been one of constant danger since you met him. Would you agree?"

"That's no fault of his, or mine," Summer replied. "He isn't dangerous. The psychos who want him dead are."

"Is there really a difference, if one of these times you or one of your children ends up dead?"

Summer's eyes widened, and Matt was quick to object. Campbell withdrew her last statement and continued on unfazed.

"Mrs. Barnes, everyone in this courtroom including the jury is surely aware that you're going to have only positive things to say about the defendant regardless of what is asked of you, so I'm going to focus on _you_ for a moment. Are you aware that you broke the law every single day that you allowed Mr. Barnes to live in your home, and every day thereafter where you knew of his location and didn't report it?"

Summer wasn't surprised to see her taking this route. Matt and Foggy had prepared her for this. "I'm aware of that."

"Are you willing to confess to a crime right now, under oath?" she asked next.

"Sure, as long as you admit that you're trying to punish a World War II hero, POW, and amputee for crimes he didn't commit of his own will."

Campbell actually _smiled_ for a moment. "In other words, you would trade your freedom for his?"

"In a heartbeat," Summer shrugged. From the corner of her eye, she could see the subtle horror in Bucky's eyes in response to such a suggestion.

"Very noble of you, but this trial is about accountability and justice," the prosecutor replied. "And even war heroes aren't outside of the law. Do you deny bullying Mark Sanders into signing away his rights to your son, with the help of Mr. Barnes?"

Summer almost had whiplash from the sudden change in questioning. "Yes, I do deny that. And Bucky had nothing to do with it. He waited in the car while I had Mark sign the papers."

"And then a month or so later, Tony Stark had a judge quietly push through the paperwork making David McAdams the newly adopted son of Mr. Barnes," Campbell noted. "Your story is full of illegalities and _contempt_ for the law. How do you expect a jury to take what you say seriously when for the last five years, you and your husband have spat in the face of the law over and over again?"

Summer chose her next words carefully, remembering Matt's constant reminders to not incriminate herself. "We haven't spat in the face of anything. We've just been living our lives. Bucky has been living his life for the first time since 1945. He's been healing and getting better and trying to atone for the past. And I've been doing everything I can to help him do that. That's all we've done."

"Maybe in your mind," the prosecutor allowed. "But the reality isn't so simple or innocent. Maybe you're so caught up in the world of superheroes and vigilantes that you can't see the difference anymore. What do you think?"

Summer's next words came as naturally as breathing. "I think that the reality _is_ simple. Bucky's innocent, and deep down, you probably know it too. The truth is that you and the people you answer to want someone to pin these crimes on and lock up so you can say _look, we brought the killer to justice_. And Bucky's the guy who fits that bill. You don't care how much he's suffered and how much he gave in service to this country. You don't care how many times they fried his brain and took away his ability to choose between right and wrong or even understand the concept. You just want to make yourselves look good because you know the people stopped trusting you a long time ago."

The prosecutor looked surprised by Summer's comments for a fraction of a second so short that Summer almost wondered if she had imagined it. Then the woman smiled the most condescending grin that Summer had ever seen in her life and said, "Well, thank you for making my point for me. No further questions."

Summer blinked with surprise, then felt immediate relief sink through her veins that it was over. She was excused from the bench, and when she stood up, she nearly toppled over from how shaky her wobbly legs felt. She was still trembling and full of anxiety and now fear that she'd said something wrong or did nothing to ultimately help, but it was over and there was nothing she could do to change it now. Another recess was called, and when Bucky took her hand on their way out of the courtroom and whispered a fierce _I love you _into her ear, she felt herself tear up and she squeezed his hand tight.

She felt even better when Steve gave her shoulder a pat in the hallway and said, "Couldn't have said it better myself."

"Not bad," Matt agreed. "Even if you did veer from the script and give another speech at the end."

"But it was a good speech," Foggy assured her as they walked. "Campbell's gonna need some cold water for those burns."

Summer laughed, already feeling about a hundred times better. _Phew_. Maybe she hadn't wrecked the whole trial after all.

* * *

After the sun had fallen and everyone was back at the tower, Summer was sunken deep into her favorite couch and Natasha was shoving a chilled glass of Tony's best Chardonnay into her hand. Opening eyes that she hadn't realized she'd closed in the first place, Summer grasped the glass and then looked up sleepily at Natasha as she took a seat next to her. "What's this for?"

"Figured you'd need it after the day you had," Natasha grinned, sipping her own glass. "Have you looked at the press yet?"

Summer yawned and shook her head, wondering why she was suddenly so _sleepy_. "No. I'll look at everything tomorrow. I don't think I can deal with what everybody's saying."

"Well, you just might be pleasantly surprised," Natasha mused with a small smile. "A few of the quotes from your testimony made headlines. And luckily, the reports so far have been very respectful when it comes to your affidavit about Mark."

"Let's hope it stays that way," Summer sighed, swirling the wine around in her glass. She brought it closer to her face and sniffed it, and she couldn't pinpoint why, but the scent of it seemed... off.

"What's wrong?" Natasha asked, watching Summer sniff the wine a few more times.

"I don't know, this just smells... gross," Summer shrugged. "You don't smell that?"

"It's delicious," Natasha shrugged back. "Maybe Steve's blood gave you the power of super-scent."

Summer rolled her eyes and chuckled. "Yeah, that would be my luck. Although let me tell you, I'm definitely stronger than I was before, and you know how I know? I opened _the pickle jar _earlier."

Natasha paused and raised an eyebrow. "_Steve's_ pickle jar?"

Summer grinned proudly and nodded. "Yes! He left it out, and I saw it and I just had to try. Because we all know how tight he closes jars. It's horrible. But now I can open them."

"Wow," Natasha said, genuinely impressed. "Maybe you should start training with me. I bet you'd pack one hell of a punch now."

"Yeah... no," Summer shook her head, continuing to play with her wine rather than drink it. "I mean, maybe one day, but not right now. I've been so tired lately. This trial is just... sucking the life out of me."

"That's what the wine's for," Natasha pointed out.

"_Yeah, yeah_," Summer chuckled before sitting up straighter against the couch. She felt a little lightheaded when she did that, but it was fleeting so she didn't think on it much. Instead she looked around and asked, "Where's Bucky and the kids?"

"Over there," Nat gestured to their left, across the room. "David put on his best pout and convinced him to play Monopoly Junior with him. Addie's 'playing' too."

Summer looked over and proceeded to smile ear to ear upon catching her first glimpse of the scene. The little family was camped out on the floor, David focusing intently on the game and Bucky glancing at Adelaide before doing a double take and then hurriedly prying her mouth open and retrieving the little car token that she'd just apparently decided to try to eat. He then sighed and she giggled at him, which immediately brought a smile to his face and prompted him to grab her and squeeze her. Then she settled down in his lap, picking up some of the fake money from the floor and waving it around as David poked at Bucky to take his turn. Bucky obliged, picking up the dice and rolling a number that led to him landing on Boardwalk, which David owned, and losing the game.

Bucky clutched his heart and let out a fake wail, pretending to be devastated at the loss, which made David crack up and Adelaide start giggling right along with him. Then Bucky started laughing with them when he could no longer keep a straight face, and the entire spectacle made even Natasha smile rather widely.

And this was the man that so many people wanted to see burn, Summer mused miserably to herself. At that morose thought, she went ahead and finally took a drink of her wine. She instantly regretted it - it tasted as bad as it smelled, which was inexplicably horrible. Today just wasn't her day for wine, apparently, but she also hadn't managed to eat much thanks to the constant pit of anxiety in her gut that she'd been dealing with all day. Drinking, therefore, wasn't a great idea anyway.

She had a better idea. Handing the wine to Natasha, Summer got up and then headed over to her family, sitting down across from Bucky and starting a new game, which made David almost squeak with excitement. Bucky smiled at her in a way that warmed her very soul, and for that night, she knew that this was what they needed - a night where they could be just a normal, happy family, and pretend that their whole world wasn't always just one revolution away from crashing and burning.

The tower's other occupants gave them their space and privacy that night, and for awhile, everything was all right again. Happy, calm, _easy_ hours passed where they played games, ate leftovers and watched _Zootopia_ on Tony's enormous TV, and it was the best that Summer had felt in ages.

She wished that she could just... freeze time and keep them like that forever. If she could just wave her hand and make everything okay again and make them all safe and sound, she'd pay any price and do anything to make it happen, but that kind of magic just didn't exist. Reality was waiting for them like it always was, and soon - maybe even in only a week's time - the trial would be coming to a close and Bucky's fate would be in the jury's hands.

It was inevitable, just like their happy little night eventually coming to an end. Once the kids' bedtimes had been officially exceeded by an hour, their parents herded them into the bedroom they all shared and began the sometimes delicate task of getting them ready for bed. It was always an adventure, and as the nearly always-obedient David brushed his teeth and Adelaide ran away from them giggling in just her diaper to escape her dreaded fate of putting on her pajamas that Bucky and Summer stole a moment for themselves.

"I am so tired," Summer groaned as Bucky leaned them against their doorframe, holding her in a warm and sweet embrace that had her all but melting into his arms.

His lips against the crown of her head, he replied somewhat sadly, "I wish I was."

She pulled away enough to look up at him, blinking her sleepy eyes as she asked, "Another late night punch-fest with Steve on the agenda?"

Brushing a lock of hair behind her ear, Bucky smiled and replied lowly, "Unless you can think of another way of wearing me out."

Summer grinned back and, despite her exhaustion, her immediate reaction was to take him up on his implication and enjoy it while she could. While Bucky seemed to have overcome his _problems_ that had made intimacy such a difficult thing to achieve in prior months, they hadn't had much of a chance to reap the benefits thanks to the constant lack of real privacy and the reality of their lives and demands of their kids. Their night on the rooftop had been the only time it had happened, and while Summer was _desperately_ ready for a follow up...

"I would love to," she murmured, "but I have no idea when these kids are gonna actually go to sleep, and... honestly, I don't think I can stay up late enough. I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he assured her, kissing her forehead sweetly. "I understand. You've had... one hell of a fucking day."

She laughed at his choice of words and nodded. "Yeah, that's one way of putting it."

"Just try to get some sleep," he told her, metal hand cupping her cheek. Then he kissed her cheek and brought his lips to his ear as he added in a low whisper meant only for her, "Maybe I'll get up a little early in the morning and... give you something nice to wake up to."

She groaned as he pulled away. "Oh man, why do you this to me?" She dropped her forehead against his chest and he laughed, running an affectionate hand through her hair. "Now I'm gonna be thinking about _that_ and getting all uncomfortable... in a good way."

"Sorry," he chuckled.

"No you're not," she sighed and lifted her head, kissing him and getting far too into it for her own good. But she really couldn't help it, and by the time she pulled away, they both had flickers of hunger in their eyes that the other could clearly see.

That was when Adelaide, still only in a diaper, came hurtling their way and smacked into their legs with a delighted and very _not_ tired giggle. They both laughed and then drew apart, Bucky reaching down and picking up the happy little girl and taking her across the room so that she could finally get her pajamas on. Summer sighed once again - she was doing a lot of that tonight - and decided to just look forward to the next morning.

The routine was familiar, and when Adelaide was dressed at last and David had finished up in the bathroom, Bucky bade them farewell and headed downstairs to hopefully exhaust himself enough to get a decent night's sleep. Summer teased him on his way out that if he kept up the ridiculous amount of working out that he did, he'd have to upgrade his left arm to a bigger one to remain proportionate. He then cracked a joke back that wasn't entirely appropriate to say around children, and with a giggle and a slight blush, Summer closed the bedroom door.

When she turned around, she saw that Adelaide was not where she'd last seen her, which was on the floor playing with one of David's toy tanks. She called the toddler's name, and Adelaide squealed happily back to her from inside the bathroom, sounding entirely too excited for her own good.

That was _never_ a good sign.

Both Summer and David approached the bathroom and, from the right side of the doorway, slowly peeked their heads inside. Sitting on the floor in her cute little pink and purple pajamas, Adelaide had both doors of the cabinet beneath the sink open, and she had found Tony's old gag gift to Summer - a big box containing more pregnancy tests than she could count.

"... _Addie_."

At the sound of her mama's voice, Adelaide whipped around and grinned with no small amount of mischief in her bright blue eyes. She had a pregnancy test in one hand, waving it around, and in her other... she was shoving (a thankfully still sealed) one into her mouth and chewing on it.

"Oh gosh, Addie, _no_," Summer said, finally stepping inside the bathroom and trying not to laugh too hard. Adelaide giggled and then quickly got up, darting off at top speed with both tests still in hand, refusing to relinquish them. Summer rolled her eyes and then asked David, "Can you go chase your sister down and get those from her? I gotta clean this up."

David wasted no time in obeying, and then Summer knelt in front of the cabinet to put all the tests back in the box that Adelaide that taken out. She could hear Addie giggling more and David's exasperated sighing, and she smiled to herself as she shoved the box back into the cabinet.

It really was a ridiculous amount of pregnancy tests. That had been the whole point of the gift's humor, of course, but she hadn't needed to take a test in quite a long time. Bucky's _problem_ had made the possibility moot, and she was always incredibly regular with her cycles and keeping track of them. In fact, she was due any day now.

As she closed the cabinet door, her hand suddenly froze on the handle. _Wait a minute_.

... _What day was it_?

Her bewildered and exhausted mind honestly couldn't remember that day's date, so she reached into her pocket and retrieved her phone. She pushed the button and then felt her eyes grow even wider as the screen lit up.

Her stomach lurched and she could _feel_ herself go as pale as a sheet.

_Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap_.

As she remained frozen where she was, kneeling in front of the cabinet and looking like she'd just seen a ghost, David returned bearing the confiscated tests. He handed them to her, and Summer took them robotically with a quiet _thanks_. She only put one back in the box, however.

"Turn around," she told David as she walked over to the toilet. He immediately did as she said, used to the drill now that Adelaide was around and the idea of actually closing bathroom doors was laughable half of the time. It was one of the consequences of motherhood, and at the moment, Summer couldn't have possibly cared less.

It took her less than a minute to get the first phase of the test done. Then she replaced the cap on the test, set it down on the counter, washed her hands, and then sunk down to the floor with a thousand-yard stare to wait for the results.

David knew what the test meant. He was quick to go to her side and sit with her, his quiet but thoughtful presence the only comfort that she had at that moment. Adelaide eventually wandered in too, now bearing Summer's phone charging cord and looking quite pleased about it.

Summer sighed and took the cord away, then continued to panic in complete and utter silence.

_She couldn't be_... right? They'd only slept together once in _months_. The chances of that were minuscule, really.

Then again, Bucky had knocked her up on their wedding night, the very first time they'd ever forgone birth control. He was already notorious for getting things done without needing multiple tries, but _this_... the timing of it...

She checked the time on her phone. Three minutes had passed remarkably quickly. She swallowed, nearly vomited in the process, and then stood up to look at the test results.

One pink line meant negative, and two meant positive. Staring back at her from the little white stick were two very vibrantly pink lines, completely unmistakably positive, and Summer's knees chose that moment to give out on her entirely.

_This couldn't be happening_. Not now. Not with everything else that was happening, the trial and their still-open case with the Department of Children and Families. Not with Bucky so close to being taken from them forever. Not with the constant threats looming over their shoulders every waking moment.

Before she knew it, tears were streaming down her face. She felt completely stupid - after all, she wasn't on birth control, and they had taken no precautions on that rooftop. She should have thought about this, but she had been too distracted and happy in that moment to even comprehend what might result from their actions.

It wasn't that she didn't want another baby, because she did. She wanted all the babies that God would see fit to give her. But bringing a new and completely innocent little life into the current dangerous mess that their lives were - just a matter of weeks after she had nearly _died_ \- this _wasn't_ what she wanted. Nobody their right mind would choose such a time to have a new baby.

Fairly quickly, she was crying so hard that David grew extremely concerned. He poked at her and signed questions to her that she didn't understand because her eyes were too blurry to make them out, his own eyes frantic with worry, but she tried to assure him that she was okay.

"I'm okay, I'm okay," she told him through a new wave of tears. "I'm... really, I am. Don't worry." She sniffed and wiped at her nose, but there was no stopping the onslaught of tears. Everything made sense now, from how exhausted she was to how sick she had felt all day, though it had been easy to attribute that to stress and how difficult the day had been. Little had she known, there was a much different reason for feeling as crappy as she had.

She needed to talk to someone. Her head was spinning and nothing was okay, and she needed a voice of reason.

"David, go get Nat," she told him, trying once again to get her breathing under control. "Go knock on her door and when she answers tell her I need her, okay?"

David nodded and quickly hurried out of the room. The minute that he was gone the tears began again, and this time it was Adelaide's turn to get concerned.

In her short life, the little girl hadn't seen her mama cry very often, and certainly not like this. Summer was bordering on hysterical again, panic and worry and shock converging and resulting in what was a veritable flood of tears leaving her eyes. Adelaide watched her blankly for a few moments, trying to understand what was going on and taking a few steps closer as she did.

Summer looked up when she felt a fat little hand pat her cheek. She sniffed back a sob and then watched as Adelaide kept patting, maybe in a curious attempt to wipe away her tears or just try to understand, and then Adelaide flashed her a smile and grabbed her nose. It was so silly and kind of random, but it made Summer's heart ache and drove her to grab the little girl and pull her into her lap so she could hug her.

It was hard to believe that another little baby was in her belly now. It was incredibly early in the pregnancy and the baby was likely smaller than a sunflower seed, but it was _there_ and Summer could still hardly believe it. Adelaide, as tiny as she was, was going to be a big sister, and at the arguably worst possible time.

The sound of footsteps caught Summer's attention a moment later. She looked up to find David dragging a half-asleep Natasha by her hand into the bathroom. As soon as Nat saw her crying on the floor and clutching Adelaide, her expression went from confused to extremely concerned.

"What happened?" Natasha asked, David letting go of her hand and moving to go sit by Summer again.

Summer let out a breath and then pointed to the sink. Natasha's eyes followed, and as soon as she located the test with her gaze, she knew.

"Oh no."

Those two words triggered another sob from Summer. She was fairly sure at this point that she'd simply keep crying until she shriveled up like a prune and lost all water content in her body.

"It was only once," Summer said weakly, voice shaking through all the crying.

"Only takes once," Natasha noted wryly, sitting down on Summer's unoccupied side. "He seems to be good at that."

"How am I supposed to tell him?" Summer asked desperately. "He's already got the weight of the world on his shoulders. If I tell him this he might snap. It's too much."

Natasha was quiet for a moment, absently watching Adelaide lightly smack Summer's wet cheek. "... Maybe you shouldn't tell him. Not yet. Wait until the verdict."

"That could be weeks," Summer pointed out.

"Could be," Natasha agreed. "But you're right. He can only take so much. Everything you're feeling right now, he'll feel it even more because he'll see how hard you're taking it and he'll blame himself."

"But... I can't keep this from him," Summer shook her head. "I can't lie. Even if I wanted to, and I don't, I'm the world's worst liar. I can't do it."

"You don't have to lie," Natasha replied. "He's not going to suspect it. You know he won't. Just wait until the verdict. Wait until you know what's going to happen."

Summer nodded, still crying softly. "I just... I want to tell him. It's gonna kill me keeping it from him."

"Yeah," Natasha said lightly. "I know. But this is a way for you to protect him. And you don't get the chance to do that very often."

She was right. Summer couldn't argue with her even if she wanted to. She wiped at her eyes and took a big, shuddering breath, and then she felt Natasha's arm come around her shoulders and pull her close for one of her somewhat rare but incredibly effective comforting hugs. Summer melted right into it, still clutching Adelaide to her chest with David at her other side, soaking up the comfort and unashamedly crying on Natasha's shoulder.

"Let it out while you can," Natasha told her gently, encouraging her to keep the floodgates open. "Because pretty soon he's gonna be back in here and you're going to need to act like none of this happened."

_Oh God_, Summer groaned inwardly. She didn't know if she could do this. Keeping such an enormous secret from Bucky might end up being one of the most difficult things she'd ever done, but she knew that Natasha was right. It was the right thing to do, and it was her one way to protect Bucky from taking on even more stress and fear.

She would do this for him, hard as it might be. And as she kept the secret between herself, Natasha, and David, she would pray that when the verdict came, he would be free again and she could tell him the news at last.

And if the verdict came and he _wasn't_ free... then she would cross that bridge when she came to it, because the thought of that was simply too terrible to bear.

Bucky was going to be a father again. She could only hope and pray that he'd get to meet his new son or daughter one day, and not be taken away before he ever got to lay eyes on them.


	66. Chapter 66

**A/N HI EVERYONE and so so sorry for the wait for this chapter. I moved again - yeah, third time moving in four months, I kid you not - so things were hectic and blah blah, typical RL excuses lol, but the point is YAY I FINALLY got this done. We're getting down to the wire here, folks, and I'm expecting this story to end up at 70 chapters even. I am ridiculously excited to have come this far, and you readers have been so great and so loyal this whole time, and I can't thank all of you enough. My huge thanks also to midnightwings96, who as always was a huge help to me during the writing process and like 99.9999% of the reason why I've gotten this far in the first place. Leave me a review and let me know what you guys think! I LOVE you all and I'll see you soon! :D **

Huddled on the floor of her bathroom and clutching the toilet like it was her personal savior, Summer finished throwing up for the third time in ten minutes and groaned as the gagging in her throat finally eased up. She sat back against the bathroom wall and sighed, eyes watering and stomach feeling better now that it was empty. She wanted to drag herself off to bed and go back to sleep, but she couldn't because she had to leave with Bucky and head to court within the next five minutes.

She took a deep breath and forced herself up to her feet, shaky legs carrying her to the sink where she brushed her teeth and touched up her makeup. Bucky was out in the living area, under the impression that she had gone back to their room to finish getting ready when in reality she'd hurried off to throw up in secret. It had been a week and a half since she had found out she was pregnant, and while it had been one of the hardest things she had ever done, she had kept the news between herself and Natasha and had thus far resisted the overwhelming urge to tell Bucky. It felt a bit like tearing her very soul in two to keep such a thing from him, but she never doubted that it was the right thing to do.

She stared at her reflection in the mirror, seeing a significant difference in her appearance compared to this stage of her last two pregnancies. Though she felt like crap and everything she smelled made her want to vomit, she still looked good. She wasn't pale and her eyes were bright, and she didn't look sick at all, as opposed to her previous pregnancies during this phase of the first trimester. With David and Adelaide she had looked as bad as she had felt, and she wondered if it was the super-blood in her veins making the difference this time around.

She was thankful either way, because looking like herself made it much easier to pretend like all was normal and there wasn't a new little person growing in her womb. After washing her hands and giving herself an extra spritz or two of perfume, just in case, she turned and left the bathroom to head back to her husband's side.

She found him right where she had left him, dressed in a dark blue suit and silver tie, standing behind one of the couches and blankly watching the news on the huge TV screen. She always told him that he shouldn't watch the news for the sake of his mental health, considering how often he was top news these days, but sometimes he did it anyway against his own better judgment. Summer glanced at the screen as she approached his side, and she wasn't surprised to see that the news anchor was indeed discussing the ever-sensational trial of James Barnes.

Today was closing arguments, and then the case would go to the jury for a verdict. It was all nearly over, and the whole country was anxious to see what fate awaited the infamous Winter Soldier. The trial had captured the attention of the whole world, new headlines sprouting every week ranging from Bucky's "collapse" mid-testimony to Summer being shot outside the courthouse and just barely - and almost miraculously, it seemed - escaping death. Almost everything about the trial was sensational, and it had made Summer one of the most recognizable people in the world.

Sometimes the depth of her own celebrity was impossible for Summer to grasp. Despite her status as a New York Times bestselling author, insanely popular public figure and blogger, and wife of the world's most famous assassin, she still felt like a nobody from Virginia in her own mind. The reality of the situation hadn't fully caught up with her, since she had spent most of the last few months trying to retain custody of her kids, stay alive, and more recently, conceal a pregnancy.

One day it would hit her just how much all of this had irrevocably changed her life and the lives of the people she loved most. But today wasn't that day.

"You ready?" she asked Bucky gently, taking his hand as she stood beside him.

He blinked and nodded, turning away from the TV and turning his gaze on her. "Yeah. We need to go."

She nodded. "Yeah, let's go."

He was nervous, she could tell. He had been more quiet than usual the last few days, knowing that the trial was nearing its final phase, and she could see the fear in his eyes. It was something she had never seen before when he would be fighting an enemy or facing danger that would make most men flee in panic, but _this_, the threat of losing his family forever and being taken from them forever... _that_ struck fear into his very bones.

He gave her a nod and then they were walking towards the elevator, hand in hand. As they went, the scent of her perfume wafted towards Bucky's nose, and he leaned a little closer to get a better whiff of it before he murmured, "You smell good."

"Really?" she grinned, mentally thanking God that she didn't smell like puke and deceit. She irrationally worried about that sometimes, as if he'd be able to smell her lies by omission on her very skin.

"Yeah," he grinned back. "It's that purple stuff, isn't it?"

"My jasmine perfume, yup," she chuckled, stepping into the now-open elevator with him. "You've always liked that one."

"It's a lot better than that weird green one you had for awhile," he noted, pushing the correct button as the doors closed in front of them. "What was that one, anyway?"

"Cucumber melon," she replied. "It was supposed to be a relaxing scent. You know, stress relieving and everything."

He made a skeptical face. "Smelling like a weird fruit salad relieves stress?"

"Hey, don't ask me," she shrugged. "That's just what the label said. And it was on sale, so."

He rolled his eyes affectionately, noting, "And you never _can_ pass up a sale."

"Hey, I'm thrifty," she retorted playfully.

He grinned at her. "You're also a bestselling author and big-shot event planner for one of the biggest companies in the world. I've seen our bank account. You can afford any kind of perfume you want, from anywhere."

She sighed, hardly believing that those things were true even though they very much were. "Yeah... but that doesn't mean I'm gonna _not_ buy cucumber melon perfume when it's on sale for five bucks."

The elevator doors opened, and Bucky chuckled as they headed towards their car. "No more cucumber melon."

"You don't like me smelling like a weird fruit salad?" she asked playfully, heading for the driver's seat.

"I like you smelling like yourself," he replied nonchalantly. "And tasting like yourself."

She blushed a little, not missing the little look that he shot her with those last words and what they meant. Then she walked right into the unopened driver's side door, having been so briefly distracted that she just smacked right into it, and they both laughed before climbing into the car.

They could distract each other like nobody else could, but even in their lighthearted moments where he teased her about perfume and she let her clumsy side come out, they were still on edge and always waiting for the next shoe to drop. The only difference was that now Summer had an extra burden on her shoulders, keeping the existence of their new child to herself and taking on all the resulting stress that she refused to impose upon Bucky.

Her stomach in knots and mind the furthest thing from calm, Summer quietly buckled herself in and turned on the ignition as Bucky settled into the passenger seat. Once she was ready, she turned to Bucky and asked him with a small smile, "You okay?"

"Yeah," he replied quickly. Then he paused and smiled without a trace of humor. "Not really, but... it's just..."

"I know," she assured him, reaching out and touching his hand. "But it's almost over. Finally."

He nodded, looking down at their hands as her warm flesh fingers stretched over the cold of his metal hand, and quietly he muttered, "Yeah. Almost out of time."

She knew what he meant by that, and it made her throat tighten and her heart ache. She knew that he didn't have much of any hope for himself to be found innocent, and now that the trial was coming to a close, in his mind, that meant that the time that he had left with his family was also almost over.

"Don't think like that," she said quietly, his eyes rising to meet hers when she spoke. "I _can't_ think like that. Not with how far we've come and how much support we have. Not with..." _Not with this new baby we made needing their father as much as their brother and sister do_. "Not while there's still hope."

"Is there?" he asked, and the way that he asked it made her heart break a little bit. He was so resigned to his fate but no less devastated for it, and it was unguarded moments like those that made Summer truly hate those trying to convict Bucky in ways that she'd never hated anyone before.

"Yes," she told him, wholeheartedly believing it because she _had_ to. Bucky winced at her answer and looked away, and Summer really just had no idea what to say to truly reach him. Maybe there were no words left that could do anything for him, and maybe all that was left was just to wait.

But Summer was _Summer_, and she had to try anyway. "You know," she said quietly, his hand still in hers, "since the day I met you, it's been one impossible thing after another. Even meeting you was... ridiculously unlikely. I mean, who could have ever guessed that you would have ended up passed out in front of _my_ house? And after that, every time I thought something was impossible, I was wrong. Look at how far we've come since then, both of us, in every single way."

She could see the truth of her words mirrored in his eyes, but it still wasn't translating into any real sense of hope. She couldn't talk her own hope into him, so she sighed quietly and gave his hand a tiny squeeze. "Just... don't give up, okay? We made it to the end. We're still alive, we're still together. We can get through this. We _can_. Besides," she forced a smile, "who else am I gonna take that second honeymoon with?"

He smiled back, every bit as forced as she, and he murmured, "On an island somewhere far away, right?"

She smiled and nodded. "Totally secluded. Just you and me."

He leaned back against his seat, turning his eyes to hers and rubbing his cool metal thumb over her warm knuckles. He stared at her quietly before looking down at their hands and bringing hers to his lips, sweetly kissing the back of her hand and making her breath leave her in a rush. Then he looked at her in an almost dreamy, wistful sort of way and said, "I love you so much."

Suddenly, her heart felt like an anchor had dropped beneath it and was dragging her down to the bottom of the ocean. She recognized that look in his eyes and it scared her more than anything she'd ever seen from him before, including when he woke up and didn't know who she was and threw her into a wall. It terrified her because it looked like _goodbye_, and she couldn't handle that. She refused to even consider it as a possibility, even though she knew full well that there was a very good chance that he would be telling her goodbye permanently very soon.

Panic threatening to crawl up her throat and make a barely-contained wave of tears spill from her eyes, Summer took a shaky breath and forced herself to look away from him. She pulled her hand from his and took a deep breath, refocusing on the very important task of getting them out of the tower's underground parking and getting them to the courthouse. All the while, as she put the car in drive with a trembling hand and pushed the gas pedal with an equally unstable foot, Bucky watched her and knew full well that something was very different about her. He had known it for several days now, but he thought that it was all due to the trial coming to a close soon and his fate being decided within likely a matter of days. He didn't suspect the truth of her secret even a little bit.

As Bucky sat and quietly mused to himself how he would rather go back to Siberia and have his former captors torture him until he dropped dead than cause his family the pain that he just _knew_ was inevitable, Summer used every last bit of strength and self control within her to keep from crying and having a breakdown to rival all others. It was hard, but staying strong for the man sitting beside her was more important than her own turmoil. She could and _would_ survive, but what she couldn't handle was watching the man she loved reclaim his life over those last five years only to have it ripped away from him by the very same government he had once given his life in service of.

It wasn't easy, but she did it. She drove them to the courthouse and didn't let a single tear fall along the way. She'd save them for later, when she could fall apart in peace behind a locked bathroom door.

For now, it was time to be strong and let the end begin.

* * *

Summer almost - _almost_ \- lost her battle with her emotions when the special prosecutor gave her closing remarks.

Katherine Campbell painted a terrifying picture of a man unhinged, violent and unpredictable, once a hero but now too damaged and too compromised to be left unchecked or trusted to mere psychiatric care. She noted the undisputed facts of the case, the files and mountains of evidence that proved who killed Howard and Maria Stark, President Kennedy, and an unbearably long list of others. She asked the jury to decide their verdict based on those facts and upon reason, not emotion. She asked them to convict the Winter Soldier and finally bring justice and peace to the families forever broken by the acts of murder that James Barnes was charged with.

Those words caused such anger and fear within Summer that she felt it as physically as she did mentally. If Campbell hadn't finished her remarks when she had, Summer was sure that she would have been ill right there in the middle of the courtroom.

But then it was Matt's turn, and one thing that Summer had learned throughout the godforsaken trial was that Matt Murdock was a force to be reckoned with. He and Foggy hadn't once let her down, and what real hope she had left was wrapped up in Matt and what she hoped was the best damn closing argument any jury had ever heard.

He didn't disappoint.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he began quietly, calmly, slowly walking in front of the jury box with his cane in hand, "I want to start off with an... observation that I think is very relevant to your decision making process. Throughout this trial you've heard from a lot of witnesses on both sides of the argument, big names that we all know, personalities that are larger than life. Before this trial even began, it was called the 'trial of the century' by almost every news outlet in the world. Everybody has an opinion on what the verdict should be. Everybody has an opinion on what it _shouldn't_ be."

Standing still now before the jury, he went on, "But what I think is worth noting is the fact that every single person on both the prosecution's side and the defense's side is that they were and are free to choose their own opinions and decisions. Steve Rogers _chose_ to receive the serum that made him the world's first superhero, and he chose to keep fighting when he came out of the ice that he _chose_ to crash into. Tony Stark _chose_ to create weaponized suits that changed the face of modern warfare. I _chose_ to take this case because I believed in my client's innocence as much as I believe in anything. The United States government _chose_ to pursue this case and try to make an example out of my client that the world would never forget. The one person who was never granted a choice, never granted the dignity of his own autonomy and self-awareness, was James Buchanan Barnes. My client was repeatedly and _brutally_ stripped of his right to choose and his right to say _no_ over the course of 70 years, and the man that you see sitting before you today with a wedding ring on his finger and a wife and family and friends behind him - that man didn't exist. He wasn't even a shadow or a fleeting thought in the Winter Soldier's mind. The man who could choose, who could say no and fight back - he was buried under years of conditioning and torture that none of us, not a single one of us, could ever hope to resist or overcome, had it been us in his shoes."

"The Winter Soldier could have been anyone," he told the jury. "Your father, your mother, your son or your daughter. It could have even been _you_, given that you were in the right place at the right time. And your father, your mother, your son, your daughter, and _you_ would be no more guilty than my client is. His innocence speaks for itself. Since the day that he was born, when he's been allowed the basic human right of choice, he's chosen right. He chose to defend his skinny, sick best friend from schoolyard bullies. He chose to join the Army after the attack on Pearl Harbor. He chose to keep serving and keep fighting even after he was captured by HYDRA and had to endure their torture and their experiments. He chose to give his life in service of his country, but HYDRA spat in the face of that choice. HYDRA killed Howard Stark, John F. Kennedy, and every other name on the prosecution's list of murder charges. Not James Barnes. James Barnes is the man, and the Winter Soldier was the gun. And guns don't get to choose who they shoot."

Matt then paused, letting those words settle for a moment before he spoke again. "You know," he smiled slightly, "everybody we know told my partner and I that we were crazy for taking this case. Two admittedly green lawyers working out of a cheap office in Hell's Kitchen, taking on the United States Justice Department to defend the most famous assassin in American history. What were we thinking? But the thing is, I never thought twice about our decision. I never doubted that we were doing the right thing, or that Barnes was innocent. And I never doubted that you, the jury, would look at the evidence and conclude that he is innocent of all the charges pressed against him. This trial hasn't changed my mind. If anything, I'm more confident than ever that each of you will make the right decision."

And with that, the trial was officially over. Matt returned to the defense table, and the next step now was for the case to go to the jury for deliberations. There was nothing more that Matt or Foggy or Summer or Steve or _anyone_ could do. They'd made their case, and now there was nothing to do but wait.

Summer blamed her multiplying pregnancy hormones for the tears that escaped her eyes during Matt's remarks. She simply couldn't help it, but Bucky maintained his quietly stoic outward facade despite how torn up he was inside. It was important to him to stay strong for the sake of the others, and to not give one inch of satisfaction to those that wanted to see him burn.

A sense of finality overcame them all as court was dismissed. Deliberations would begin the next day, and as Summer and Bucky walked out of their courthouse with their hands joined, surrounded by their lawyers and the friends that had stood by them from the very beginning, she asked Matt in a quiet but surprisingly steady voice, "Now what?"

"Now," Matt replied with a short exhale, "we wait."

* * *

And for an entire week, waiting was exactly what they did.

It was nothing short of cruel and unusual torture. For seven days, Bucky didn't sleep, barely ate, and nearly threw up from sheer dread every time the phone rang. Summer _did_ throw up herself quite a bit, though she managed to hide it and play it off, and Bucky was too distraught to notice.

They both sleepwalked through that week, trying to stay positive and act normal for the sake of the kids, but David could see right through the act and Adelaide was fussier than usual. Bucky's nightmares came back at night, and Summer got used to waking up around 3 or 4 AM and finding him slumped in a chair near the window, his head in his hands and body unbearably tense with anxiety. There was little that she could do for him but coax him back to bed and hold him until the sun came up, providing him with the only slight sense of peace that he could find in those days.

It was hell. The others helped in every way that they could, making food for them and helping with the kids, keeping them company when they wanted it and giving them space when they needed it, but nothing _really_ made it any better. The only thing that would do that was a _not guilty_ verdict, and even Summer had begun to lose hope for that.

Then, on the seventh day, Bucky's phone rang. It was Foggy, telling him that the jury had informed the judge that they expected to hand down the verdict some time during the following afternoon. They had been eating dinner when Bucky got the call, and Summer knew exactly what Foggy had said when she watched all the blood drain Bucky's face and a sickening glimmer of fear replace his previous exhausted, _sad_ expression.

Bucky quietly thanked Foggy for the call, hung up the phone, and then left the table without a word to anyone. Summer tried to call after him, but her voice was stuck in her throat and her limbs felt like dead, useless weights, so she let him go. If he needed to be alone with his fear, then she would give him his space for awhile.

_This was it. _She was pretty sure that she was going to be ill again_. _

* * *

About an hour after getting the call, Steve found Bucky sitting on top of the roof of Stark Tower, the very same place where he had unknowingly conceived a child with Summer only a number of weeks prior. He was standing on the edge, far too close to the ledge for Steve's taste, but Bucky always did that and it always made Steve nervous.

Steve quietly approached his friend from behind, hands in his pockets and his heart feeling painfully heavy in his chest. He knew all too well what Summer was feeling, the fear and panic of being on the verge of losing Bucky for good, and what made it even worse was the fact that he had been here before. This wouldn't be the first time that he lost his best friend, and _damn it all_, he was sick of this.

"I know I've said this before," Steve said as he reached Bucky's side, "but do you _have_ to stand so close to the edge?"

He looked at Bucky to find his face completely blank, eyes red-rimmed like he had been crying recently, jaw tight with anger or maybe just sheer pain.

"I was just thinking," Bucky said, voice a bit scratchy and uneven, flat in its tone. "I should have just stayed dead when I fell off that damn train."

Steve grimaced. "Bucky..."

"Don't," Bucky shook his head, glaring forward. "You know it's true. I'm not _supposed_ to be here. A lot of people would still be alive today if I'd stayed dead. None of this would have happened. Summer wouldn't be in the middle of all this and have her name plastered all over the fucking media. She wouldn't have been shot. Wouldn't have Child Services breathing down her neck waiting for the chance to take the kids away."

"Bucky," Steve shook his head, "you can't think like that."

Bucky laughed humorlessly. "Well, I am. 'Cause it's the truth."

"No it's not," Steve told him. "HYDRA would have found another Winter Soldier. Probably someone worse, someone who wouldn't have ever broke conditioning. All the people they made you kill, they would have still ended up dead. And as for Summer... you know what she'd say if she heard you talking like this."

Bucky shook his head. "She loves me too much to see how bad I've fucked her life up since the day I met her."

Steve sighed. "I know you're scared. I am too. But if the verdict comes in tomorrow and it's not good... do you honestly think I'm gonna let you rot in prison for the rest of your life?"

That got Bucky'a attention. He turned his head and eyed Steve suspiciously. "What's that mean?"

"It means that I'll find a way to get you out," Steve replied. "Whether it's legal or not."

Bucky winced and turned around, furrowing his brows and stepping away from the edge as he groaned, "God, Steve, _no_."

Steve followed him. "It's not right, Bucky, and I'm not gonna let them punish you for things you didn't do."

"But I did do it," Bucky replied miserably, turning and looking Steve in the eye. "Don't you get that? I did it _all_, and there's no walking away from that."

"Maybe there is," Steve argued. "If I can't keep you hidden here, maybe Thor can help. Maybe, worst case scenario, I break you out and he can protect you where he lives."

Bucky laughed out a scoff. "_Asgard_? You think you can just break me out and send me flying across the fucking universe and what, live there forever?"

"Look, I don't know," Steve said, letting his arms fall to his aides. "I don't know. But I can't let them do this to you. I won't."

Bucky shook his head. "You don't have a choice. If you even tried to break me out, they'd arrest you in five seconds and throw you in a cell right next to me."

"It's a risk I'm willing to take," Steve replied rather stubbornly.

"You're an idiot," Bucky muttered. "You have a life. You're a fucking... you're every little kid's hero. You _mean_ something to people in a way I never will. I'm not worth throwing all of that away."

"You are to me," Steve replied simply, leaving no room for argument. Bucky stared at him incredulously before he found his voice again.

"No," he said. "_No_. I'm sick of everybody sacrificing _everything_ for me. If you give a damn about me, Steve, you'll let whatever happens happen. I mean it." He paused, swallowed dryly and then muttered, "You've gotta stay on the right side of the law, 'cause I need you to take care of everyone for me when I'm gone."

Steve's expression grew even more pained at those words. He sighed and dropped his eyes down to his feet, Bucky also turning away and neither of them saying anything for a heavy moment or two. When Steve finally looked back up, he told Bucky quietly, "Nat took care of everything. It's all ready in case the news tomorrow isn't good."

Bucky nodded, knowing exactly what Steve was referring to. "Good."

"You know she won't like it," Steve replied. "She's gonna fight you on it."

Bucky shrugged. "It's the only way for her and the kids to be safe."

Steve nodded, not disagreeing. "It's getting late. You should get back downstairs. Spend the night with your family."

"My last night with them," Bucky mused, misery etched plainly on his face.

"You don't know that," Steve reminded him gently. "But in case you're right... yeah. You don't want to waste tonight."

Bucky inhaled deeply, knowing that Steve was right. He ran a hand through his hair and let out the breath that he'd been holding, glancing at Steve and nodding. Steve forced a small, tight smile, and something about it made Bucky's next words leave his lips.

"I'm sorry I keep putting you through this," Bucky said quietly, wholly sincerely. "This is all just... I'm more trouble than I'm worth." He smiled sadly. "Always have been."

"_No_," Steve shook his head, taking a few steps closer to his best friend. "You're not. None of this is your fault. None of it's _ever_ been your fault."

Then Steve pulled Bucky into a hug that Steve gave him no choice but to accept. Bucky didn't try to fight him or shy away, instead all but melting into the embrace and hugging him back, not knowing if he would ever really see Steve again after this night. It was a sick, depressing joke that the universe kept playing on them, allowing them to be reunited in the face of insurmountable odds, only to be ripped apart yet again by forces beyond their control.

He really wasn't worth all the trouble and the pain, but Steve would never hear a word of it. Bucky would never understand, but he knew how grateful he was to have a friend that loyal and devoted from the time they were kids to that very night on the rooftop. He didn't think he deserved Steve, but he would never stop being grateful for the friendship they'd shared.

When they pulled away, Bucky didn't hesitate to say, "I meant what I said before. You've gotta take care of them for me."

Steve sighed and nodded. "I know. And I will."

"You keep them safe," Bucky said. "Make sure they have everything they need. Don't let Summer be alone like she was before, with David." Steve nodded, but Bucky wasn't quite finished yet. "And... when Addie's grown up... you've gotta be the one to make sure no punks break her heart. And walk her down the aisle when she gets married."

Steve grimaced again. "Bucky -"

"And if David has bullies at school," Bucky continued on, "you teach him how to kick their asses. You know me better than anyone. Do what I'd do for them if I was there."

"It's not gonna come to that," Steve replied, "but okay. I will. You have my word."

Bucky nodded, eyes starting to shimmer with unshed tears. "And if Summer... if she ever finds somebody else..."

"_God, Bucky,_" Steve groaned.

"If she does," he soldiered on, "then you make sure he treats her right. Make sure he's better than me. Don't let anyone else do what I've done to her. Promise me, Steve."

"I promise," Steve assured him, even though the things that Bucky was speaking of were beyond horrific. It was wrong, it was all wrong, and if it all became a reality upon the verdict being read tomorrow... that was something that just seemed too terrible and too unthinkable to be true. But of course, most of the time, that meant that it was just awful _enough_ to be true.

Bucky sighed. "I can live with getting put away if I know they're all right, if I know they're taken care of."

"She's got all of us, Bucky," Steve said. "Not just me. They'll be taken care of, I promise." Then he grasped Bucky's shoulder and told him more quietly, "Now go on. Go be with them."

Bucky nodded, scrubbing at his face and his eyes that he stubbornly refused to allow tears to fall from. He was determined not to cry, regardless of how unrealistic that goal was, and so far he hadn't. He wanted to be strong, and he _had_ to be strong for Summer and the kids. He wouldn't let them see him cry, because if he started to, he feared that he might never manage to stop.

He thanked Steve one more time before heading back inside, back towards his and Summer's room. He planned on making the most of what might very well be his last night with her, and that was exactly what he did.

* * *

Together, like they always did every night, Bucky and Summer put the kids to bed a little while later. It wasn't often that both kids, especially Adelaide, actually stayed in their own beds and the room that they shared next to their parents' room, but it seemed that fate was on their side that night. Adelaide fell asleep in Bucky's arms, sprawled on his chest as Summer read a story to David, and before they knew it, both kids were down for the count. Summer tucked David and turned off the light next to his bed, and when she glanced at Bucky with a wordless offer to take their daughter and lay her in her toddler bed, he shook his head.

"I just... need a minute," he half-whispered. Summer nodded instantly, giving him a tight smile and surely wondering if this was the last time she would ever see her daughter sleeping in her husband's arms.

She didn't voice any of those thoughts, however. "Okay. I'm just gonna... go get ready for bed."

He nodded, making himself return her smile with an equally forced one of his own. She lingered only a few seconds before slipping out of the room, leaving Bucky alone with both of his children to tell them both goodbye in peace.

Because he knew that's what this was. It was goodbye, and he would never be ready to part with either of those two precious souls, but... here he was nonetheless.

Though he didn't want to ever let go of his little girl, eventually Bucky stood up from the rocking chair that he had gotten Addie to sleep in and carefully carried her to her bed. She stayed asleep until he laid her down on her back, at which point she stirred and opened her bright blue eyes with a delirious babbled, "_Dada_?"

"I'm right here, baby," he assured her quietly, rubbing her head soothingly as her heavy eyes fell closed again. He repeated those words once or twice more before she rolled over to her side, her hands slipping under her cheek and making her look like an actual sleeping angel as she drifted back off.

Bucky's heart wasn't being torn in half. It was being _shredded_. His eyes filled with tears and he clenched his jaw, brows furrowing as he forced the tears to stay where they were and not fall as he gazed at his tiny daughter. Not even two years old yet and he might never see her again, at least not in any way that counted. She had brought so much light and joy to his life, with every little giggle and warbled _dada_ that had ever left her mouth, and Bucky had no idea how he could ever live without her.

Everyone always said how Adelaide looked just like him, but in Bucky's eyes, she was all Summer. Eyes bright like hers, a smile that could light up not just a room but a whole damn building, and a stubborn fire to her that he had seen many times in her mother. She had his dimpled chin and his hair, and his half of her blood was the reason why she'd never been sick with a single cold a day in her life, but Bucky still saw so much more of Summer in her than himself. He was glad for that, and he hoped that she always stayed that way.

He hoped that she forgot him quickly. He didn't want her to cry or miss him. The sooner that she forgot that she ever had him for a father, the better. She would have her mother, her brother, Steve, Nat, Wanda, Sam, and a whole family of people who loved her very much. She wouldn't remember Bucky, not with being as little as she was, and he thought it was better that way. In a terrible, sad way, she might have it easier than her brother.

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to Addie's forehead, pulling up her thin pink blanket to cover her up before he reluctantly turned and let his eyes fall on David, also sound asleep in his bed.

After walking the short distance to the bed, feeling like his feet weighed a hundred pounds more with each step, Bucky fished out two small folded pieces of notebook paper from his pocket. He slipped them into the top drawer of the small table next to David's bed, and then he knelt down next to the sleeping boy and felt the cracks in his heart widen and grow even deeper.

He had first met David what felt like ages ago, when he was only 5 and Bucky was trying to remember whether his name was actually Bucky or if he had no name, like HYDRA had always told him. Against the odds, the boy's quiet and wholly accepting nature had led to a tentative peace between the two of them, and Bucky had never expected their relationship to grow as it had. It was the very definition of unexpected, but it was also the most natural and easy thing in the world.

Now this boy had Bucky's last name and an attachment to Bucky that ran incredibly deeply. He was the only father that David had ever had, and where Addie would forget him, David never would. David would feel the pain of losing his daddy in a way that he would never forget. It would stay with him, in some capacity, for the rest of his life. And Bucky hated that, because he never wanted to cause that kind of pain to anyone, let alone a little boy that had become his son in every sense of the word.

All the apologies in the world would never lessen that blow, but he hoped that the words he wrote on his letters to both of his kids would help in some way, someday. He leaned forward and put a hand on David's head, pressing a kiss to the top of it before pulling away and hoping that the boy would forgive him one day.

Then, with what tentative will he had left, Bucky turned and walked out of the room. He quietly closed the door behind him and ran the back of his hand over his eyes, shoving the tears back down and taking a breath before heading to his and Summer's room.

His most painful goodbye of all was yet to come.

* * *

Summer was brushing her hair in the bathroom when she heard the bedroom door open and close. Blinking with suddenly reborn anxiety, she set down her hairbrush and gave herself one last glance in the mirror, trying not to frown too deeply before turning, flipping off the light, and heading back into the bedroom.

She found Bucky sitting on the edge of their bed, elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. Her heart shattered a little at the sight of him like that, everything about his posture and body language giving away how wrecked he was. She couldn't say that she knew what he was feeling, but if it was worse than what she felt, she didn't know how he could _breathe_ through such pain.

He raised his head and his eyes found her, and the minute they reached hers, her heart lurched in a way that physically hurt. She watched then as he eyes drifted downwards, over the black tank top and dark blue sleep shorts she had on. He liked those shorts, always teasing her that they were so small that wearing them was pointless, _why not just cut out the middle man and wear those lacy little things you've got on underneath_, but none of that mirth was anywhere near his eyes that night. She didn't expect it to be.

She sat down next to him on the bed, reaching a hand to his back and laying her head on his shoulder wordlessly. He let out a sigh at the contact, and quietly she asked, "Tired?"

He scoffed quietly. "Not even a little."

"Yeah," she agreed. "Me either."

His left hand came to rest on her knee, his lips brushing against her hair as he leaned closer to her. They enjoyed that one quiet, peaceful moment for what it was, Bucky especially, because he planned on wrecking that peace in just a few more minutes.

Summer blinked and watched him after he disentangled from her and stood up. He ran a hand through his hair and walked to their dresser, opening it and pulling out a large, blank envelope. Then he turned and headed back to the bed, sitting down where he had been before, and Summer eyed the envelope with slight confusion before asking, "What's that?"

He smiled sadly, not quite meeting her eyes. "Something you're not gonna like."

Then he handed it to Summer. She took it a bit warily, staring at him with her brows furrowed before letting her eyes drop back to the envelope. It wasn't sealed, so she flipped open the tab and reached inside.

She pulled out a handful of cards. An ID card for herself, with a different name and bearing the state design for Florida.

The other cards made her heart drop even further. Three new - _fake_ \- Social Security cards and numbers for herself, David, and Adelaide.

Holding on to the cards and turning her eyes to Bucky's in disbelief, she half-whispered, "Bucky, what... what is this?"

His expression was pained as he replied, "If you don't disappear, you _know_ what's gonna happen. They'll take the kids. You'll always be a target. I can't let that happen."

She could feel the beginning signs of panic start to claw up her throat. "But -"

"There's cash, too," he added calmly. "Nat has it. Enough for you to get by on for a couple years. She's got a safe house in Central Florida, and if I'm found guilty, I need you to take the kids and drive to Clint's farm. He'll fly you to the house."

She was completely and utterly overwhelmed. "_What_? No! Bucky, I can't - I have a job, I've got... I've got a career and a life here. I can't just -"

"Yes you can," Bucky told her, still wearing that false air of calm about him. "You _have_ to."

"But... Matt and Foggy can appeal if you're convicted, and I could still have like... five years of visiting you before the appeals are exhausted, and -"

Bucky grimaced and shook his head. "No, Summer. I'm not worth it. You need to do this. You need to disappear. It's the only way to make sure that you and the kids will be safe. Nat can get you set up with a new job, and you can write a new book under a new name, anything you want, but _Summer_ \- this is how it has to be."

Tears were stinging behind Summer's eyes, and her hands were shaking and her heart was pounding. "But I'll be alone, and -"

"Steve will come see you every week," Bucky assured her. "Nat too. Everyone's gonna be there for you guys, I promise. But you can't stay here in New York."

Summer looked away, casting her eyes back down to the offending envelope full of unspeakable contents, trying to hold back the tears but knowing it was a losing battle. One slipped out of her eye, then another, and before she knew it, her shoulders were trembling and Bucky was on his knees in front of her, the envelope cast aside on the bed for the time being.

"Summer," he said quietly, hands gently holding her face and thumbs wiping away her fallen tears, "do this for me. I _have_ to know that you guys are safe. I can take whatever happens as long as I know that you're gonna be okay and the kids are gonna be okay."

That only made her cry even more. Guilt and panic and fear all collided and resulted in her feeling like she was going to just fall apart and not be able to piece herself back together this time. He was asking this of her and he didn't even know that she would be hiding with _three_ kids instead of only two, and that he would miss the birth of his second biological child and never get to see their first steps or hear their first words.

"Summer," he murmured, swiping away more of her tears from her damp cheeks, tucking her hair behind her ears. "_Please_."

She couldn't do this anymore. She just couldn't. Her resolve to spare him further pain cracked and then simply dissolved, and after sucking in a deep breath and mentally thinking _to hell with it all_, Summer finally confessed, "Bucky, I'm pregnant."

For a minute, it was like the entire world stood still. Silence rang loudly in her ears as shock, confusion, and finally disbelief ran through Bucky's eyes, one after the other. But shock remained the dominant quality on his face as Bucky blinked and muttered, "... _What_?"

"I'm pregnant," she repeated softly, the bewilderment and confusion on his face painful to behold. "From the... the night on the roof."

He blinked a couple times, brows furrowing. "That was... that was weeks ago."

"I know," she frowned. "I found out the day I testified."

The sheer, crystal clear _hurt_ in his eyes upon hearing those words made her guilt and growing self-hatred increase tenfold. "You didn't tell me?"

"I just... I didn't want to make it worse," she muttered. "You were already going through so much and _barely_ hanging on and I just... I thought that I could wait until you were found innocent and tell you then."

After listening to her explanation, Bucky's hands slowly dropped from her face. His eyes also fell from hers, face pale and voice silent as he began to stare at the floor beneath him. Summer searched his features frantically, panicking inside that she had done something unforgivable and damaged their relationship in ways that she had never intended to.

"Bucky," she half-whispered, reaching out for him, but he pulled away before she could touch him. Her inner panic steadily growing, she watched him as he slowly got to his feet and then turned away, walking towards the the window in their room and coming to a halt once he was standing in front of it.

He stood there, motionless and staring out the window, and Summer watched him for a few moments, unsure of what to do. Slowly becoming more and more convinced that he now possibly hated her and would never forgive her, she vacillated between being brave and going to him and being a coward and staying where she was, not saying a word.

But this was very possibly her last night with him. If she spent it being a coward, she would never forgive herself.

After a few minutes spent in silence, Summer stood up and made her way to him. It was only once she was close enough to touch him that she saw the movement of his shoulders, a barely perceptible shaking that made her breath catch in her throat because she _knew_ what it meant.

He was _crying_. Really crying. And she had never seen that kind of crying from him before.

She said his name one more time, softly and tentatively, and when she touched the back of his shoulder, he turned around and faced her. He looked her right in the eye, silent tears streaming down his face, and that was when Summer's heart finally, _truly_, broke.

She reached out and pulled him to her with both arms, and he melted against her and clutched at her as if she was the only thing keeping him from drowning. He buried his face between her neck and shoulder, and she held him there with one hand in his hair and the other wrapped around his back. She murmured apology after apology, making sure that he knew exactly how sorry she was for hiding the truth from him, and he only held her tighter with each new word that she uttered.

It was when he gripped the back of her tank top in a tight fist and let out a legitimate _sob_ into her neck that she broke. Seeing and hearing him like this, watching him break down after so long trying to bottle it all up and be strong for everybody, it left her able to do nothing but cry right with him.

And she did, no longer fighting the tears, no longer trying to be strong herself. Neither of them pretending any longer and no more lies left to divide them, they ended up sinking to the floor when it all left them too weak to stand. They didn't let go of each other, Bucky still letting wave after wave leave him in heavy rushes as Summer simply held on to him, relieved and sad and terrified and knowing that this was all leading to the _goodbye_ that she had been dreading for so long.

When Bucky finally lifted his head, swiping a hand over his face and still looking unfairly pretty for how tear-stained his face was and how red his eyes were, Summer did what he normally always did for her and wiped some of his tears away with her thumbs. Looking into his pain-filled, stormy eyes, she told him one more time, "I'm sorry."

He let out a rough, shaky exhale, nodding and replying in a voice thick with emotion, "I know. I..." He swallowed and leaned into her touch a little as she cupped his cheek, "I understand why you didn't tell me. I wish you had, but... I forgive you."

Relief washed over her at those words, and she let out a breath and felt a few more tears slip from her eyes. He reached up and wiped those away, then reached behind her neck and pulled her closer, letting his forehead fall against hers, and Summer let out a sigh at the contact. "I just... couldn't believe that it was real. I mean, the _timing_... and we only did it the one time, and that was the first time in _months_."

"I'm good at that," Bucky said, and his weak attempt at a joke made Summer let out a laugh mixed with a sob. The sound made his lips twist into a half-smile, and the next thing they knew, they were both laughing and crying at the same time.

They ended up in each other's arms again, Summer's head on his shoulder this time and his nose buried in her hair, and all was quiet again as they slowly calmed down. The laughter died first, and then the tears finally slowed down as well. Their breathing calming and returning to a semblance of normal, Summer sighed and muttered with her lips against his neck, "I wish you could just disappear with me."

His fingers carding softly through her hair, he closed his eyes and replied quietly, "I can't disappear this time."

"I know. I just... wish you could."

He paused, eyes opening and fingers still moving through her hair. "Promise me you'll do what I asked. Promise me you'll go and not look back if they say I'm guilty."

Her throat feeling tight and chest aching just at the thought of that happening, she took a deep breath and gave in. "I will. I promise."

She felt his exhale of relief, and the press of his lips against her temple. "Thank you, sweetheart."

Summer, for a moment, tried to imagine what her new life in Florida would be without him. Two kids and a third on the way, fake ID's and names, a job somewhere she didn't know anyone and a house that would probably be bugged to high heaven for the sake of safety. She'd have to change her appearance, being a worldwide public figure now. Maybe cut her hair, make it red or blonde, who knew. She'd sleepwalk through this new existence like a zombie, her kids keeping her going when nothing else would, her heart breaking and shattering all over again when she would see Bucky's face on TV or a newspaper or magazine. She'd never see him in person again. All she would have were her memories, two kids who looked just like him and a third, David, who would lose the only father he'd ever had.

It wasn't fair. It wasn't justice. It was a travesty.

"Promise me one more thing," Bucky said, quieter than before. She raised her head to look him in the eye, and his eyes began to water again as he said, "Don't... don't stop living if they put me away. Don't..." He paused. "I want you to be happy again someday. I don't want you to be alone."

She blinked. "... What are you saying?"

"I'm saying I want you to move on," he replied gently. "Forget about me, eventually. Find someone who makes you happy."

She _immediately_ began to protest, shaking her head. "_No_. Are you kidding me? I can't - I'd never - are you serious?"

"I am completely serious," he told her.

"I can't promise you that," she replied. "Because I can't imagine ever even _looking_ at anyone like that after I've been with you." When he looked like he was about to argue with her, she asked, "If the roles were reversed, could you promise me the same thing?"

He couldn't argue with her _there_. Instead, he simply sighed and said, "I just want you to be happy, Summer. And if I'm not around anymore..."

"I don't need a man to be happy," she told him confidently, meaning every word. "Especially not one who isn't you. I'll have our kids. And our friends. My writing. I'll be fine."

He nodded, not doubting her. "I know. I know you'll be okay. You're stronger than you know. I just want you to be happy again someday."

She nodded. "I know. And remember," she said, bringing her arms around his neck, "it's not over yet. You might be found innocent and I won't need anything that's in that envelope."

He let out a burdened sigh, closing his eyes and shaking his head. "Yeah, but odds are..."

"Odds are it could go either way," Summer replied. "And if it goes the bad way... I don't wanna spend our last night together talking about it."

He sniffed, still a little teary from before, then asked, "Then how do you wanna spend it?"

"I don't know," she admitted with a sad smile. "But maybe we could at least... move to the bed while we figure it out."

He smiled back, just as sadly, and nodded. "Yeah. Good idea."

Bucky then slowly got back up to his feet, lending her a hand and helping her up. Within the next few minutes they were settled in their bed, finding it much more comfortable than the floor had been, and after a moment or two spent quietly debating what to do next, Bucky was the one who got an idea.

He got out of the bed and went to their closet. When he returned, he had a few photo albums in his hands - their wedding album, one of Adelaide's baby photos, and then _that one_ album Summer had made for his eyes only.

Apparently, they were going to spend what might be their last night together strolling down Memory Lane.

They laid there in bed next to each other, sitting back against the headboard and starting with their wedding album. They both smiled and laughed as they started from the beginning, the photos of them getting ready at Clint's house and preparing for the big day. The photos told the whole story of the day, from beginning to end, and Summer's personal favorites had always been the posed photos following the ceremony and then the ones from the reception.

They had been so happy back then, she mused quietly to herself. Bucky was a new Avenger, she was still shopping her book around to different publishers, and they had just agreed to cease using birth control and let what babies come that would.

It had felt like the world was theirs and that they could get away with anything and never get caught. They were safe, happy, and everything was fine. But that's how life always went, she supposed. Everything was always fine until it wasn't anymore.

Adelaide's photos came next. The first part of the album contained all of the pictures that Summer had taken of her belly at various stages of the pregnancy, progressing from tiny, barely-there baby bump to what Summer referred to as her "beached whale" phase. Then came photos of Adelaide herself, and the whole happy family. Summer's face was puffy in many of those pictures but no less radiant, and Bucky was as flawless as ever with his then-long hair, reminding her of how much she had enjoyed getting her hands in it. That had been a fun phase.

This new baby, she thought, might not get any photos like that. No photos of her daddy holding him or her for the first time in the hospital, gazing lovingly into their eyes and kissing their forehead, welcoming them into the world with all the love a child could ever want. He or she would be loved and well-cared for all the same, but Summer knew firsthand how hard it was to live without a father. It broke her heart to think that her own children would know that pain all too well.

She was on the verge of tears again when Bucky closed that album and reached for the very last one. She took one look at the cover and smiled, shying away as he flipped it open and glanced at her with a tiny grin on his face.

"What?" he asked innocently.

"I'll cringe if I look at any of those," she admitted with a shrug.

He looked at her in disbelief. "Are you kidding me? You're absolutely _perfect_ in these."

"Well... I just... I don't know. Like I'm super proud of those, but... I don't really want to look at them either."

He sighed and shook his head, turning to one of the earlier pages of the book, where she was clad in an elegant red dress and posing like a statuesque beauty in the middle of an old, vintage-themed hotel room. "Well... I wonder if they'd let me keep this with me in whatever hellhole of a prison they plan on throwing me in."

Summer sighed and let her head drop on to Bucky's shoulder, the resignation in his tone bringing the pleasant nostalgic haze of the last few minutes to a skidding halt. She curled up to his side, closing her eyes so she didn't have to see the pictures as he skimmed through them, but she didn't get away with that for long.

"This one's my favorite."

She opened her eyes almost against her own will, curiosity getting the better of her. The photo in question was one that she remembered quite well, one of her sitting up with her head tipped back, her sheer robe open and falling off of one shoulder, _nothing_ on underneath.

She had to admit, she looked rather flawless in that photo. And it wasn't because of editing either, because Nicolo had sworn to not retouch anything or alter her body in any of the photos. They were only for Bucky, after all, and he would have known had an imperfection been airbrushed away.

"Yeah... I _am_ pretty hot there," she conceded. "Because... well... _boobs_."

"Because everything," he corrected her, closing the book and setting it aside so that he could focus on the real woman instead of pictures of her, regardless of how beautiful said pictures were. He turned on his side and she did the same, very little space left between them as he reached out and touched her face with his cool metal fingers.

She reached up and grasped his wrist with her fingers, flesh warm on top of metal, looking him in the eyes as he told her barely above a whisper, "I love you so much."

Her breath hitched when she heard his tone. "This is goodbye, isn't it?"

"If it is," he murmured, "I want you to know that you're the best thing that ever happened to me. And it's selfish of me to say that, 'cause I've fucked up your life more than you'll ever admit, but... you made me happy. You made me happy when I didn't think I _could_ be happy, and you've given me _so much_. More than I've ever deserved."

And just like that, her tears were back. She blinked and two of them fell from her lashes, and he was quick to wipe them away.

"I'll never understand why you love me like you do," he told her next. "But I'm more grateful for it than words can say. And I'll love you until I stop breathing."

_She_ almost stopped breathing at those words. Closing her eyes and gripping his wrist tightly, tears continued to flow from her eyes and he continued to wipe them away for her, his touch as loving as his gaze.

"I can't do this," she groaned, voice more wobbly than she could stand, eyes stubbornly screwed shut. "I can't... I feel like I'm..."

"_Shh_," he murmured, leaning forward and kissing her forehead, cradling her face sweetly. "You don't have to say anything."

"I do," she argued weakly.

"No you don't," he said, "because I know how much you love me. I know because you've written books about it. You've told me in every way a person _can_ tell someone they love them."

"Then what do you want me to do?" she asked.

He paused, eyes falling from her eyes to her lips and back up again. "Just... be _with_ me. Let me memorize everything about you so I never forget, no matter what they do to me."

He voice broke on those last few words, and a lone tear fell from his eye after. That broke Summer's dam all over again, and as she let her emotions run wild again, Bucky leaned in close and pressed his lips softly to hers.

She threaded her fingers through his hair, kissing him back and never wanting to let him go. She wanted to wrap him up in her arms and steal him away, hide him where nobody could ever find him and spend the rest of her life protecting him. She didn't have a metal arm or a super serum or really anything more than a can of mace and a gun or two that she was a pretty good shot with, but she would have done everything in her power to protect him all the same.

But she was powerless. Even Steve and all of the Avengers couldn't get Bucky out of this one, and if they couldn't do it, then she was even more useless.

Tonight, however, wasn't about that. It was about the two of them enjoying what little time they might have left with each other, and telling each other goodbye in the only way they knew how. It tore them both up to do it, but there was no other way, nothing else they could do. They needed each other one last time, to leave a lasting mark on one another that time and separation couldn't fade.

He was hers, and she was his. No matter what happened this would always be true, and they set out to prove it to each other.

Slow, sweet kisses turned a little more open and a little deeper as the moments dragged on. Bucky kissed her until she was breathless, and then he slid his tongue between her lips and stole her breath away again before she could catch it. Then he let his lips wander, kissing the corner of her mouth and then the curve of her cheekbone, literally kissing her tears away in a gesture that made her heart ache.

"Don't cry, baby," he murmured, kissing her just under her ear, hand sliding slowly down her side.

"Can't help it it," she replied, eyes closed and body responding achingly quickly as he kissed down her neck. He knew all of her favorite spots, had them memorized like the back of his hand, and he knew just how to kiss, nip, and tease them with his tongue to make her squirm with need. That time was no exception.

He eased her down on her back with the utmost of care, hovering over her and bringing his lips back to hers, making sure not to put any weight on her belly. He kissed her slowly, deeply, enough to make her heart ache and heat bloom in her veins, and through it all she just wanted to _cry_ because this might be the last time she ever got to feel him like this.

Metal hand ghosting along her side and sliding over her belly, his fingers slid under the hem of her tank and drifted upwards, his lips breaking from hers as his fingers traced over her skin. His forehead leaned against hers and she opened her eyes to find his fixed in a sweet gaze, watching his own hand trace over her belly.

She watched then as his eyes grew sad and he furrowed his brows, new tears shining in his eyes as he thought about this new life they'd created and how he may never even lay eyes on it. It broke her heart to see his face like that, so she covered his hand with hers and leaned up to kiss his cheek, then his jaw, and finally his neck as she shifted and sat up, making him sit up with her.

His eyes locked with hers as she climbed on his lap, one leg on either side of his thighs as she cupped his face and then kissed him with everything that she had. His hands went to her hips and hers drifted to his shoulders, their lips moving less slowly together than before, quicker now and more needy, much like his hands as they grasped at her and then slid up under her top to feel her warm skin.

She broke the kiss just long enough to pull away and let him pull her top up and off of her, dropping it carelessly and immediately tugging her back to his chest. She wasn't wearing a bra and his hands were immediately on her, metal arm wrapped around her waist and right hand cupping one breast as he dropped his face between them, closing his eyes and, for a moment, seeming to just breathe her in.

She wrapped her arms around him and held him close, fingers in his hair and her other arm draped over his shoulders. She could feel the slight scratch of day-old scruff as he nuzzled her skin, and she closed her eyes as his lips pressed a soft trail to the top of one breast and then slowly worked his way down, until his lips were wrapped around a nipple and she gasped at how sensitive she was. In a few more weeks she would probably be too sensitive to enjoy such a touch, thanks to hormones, but for now it was still _incredibly_ pleasant.

She let out a moan when he turned his attention on her other breast, nails lightly scratching his scalp as she mindlessly rocked down against him. He groaned at the sensation, achingly hard underneath her and needier than he could express, but she knew. She knew _everything_, and he knew how much she needed this too.

He pulled away when she started clawing his shirt up, and they both pulled it off before colliding again with a hard but sweet, desperate kiss. It felt like only seconds before he had effortlessly scooped her up in his strong arms and gently laid her down, never even breaking the kiss as her head hit the pillow.

Her eyes opened when he drew away, warm flesh fingers tracing the soft skin of her face and his eyes shining again as he gazed down upon her. A painful lump formed in her throat and only became worse when he murmured, "You're so _fucking beautiful._"

Those words only brought tears to her eyes again, and when he then kissed her, she could have sworn that she felt a teardrop or two of his fall on her cheeks. The kiss lingered, deepened and became as hot as it was bittersweet, and then he rocked his hips down against hers and broke away with a breathless groan. After that, it was like he couldn't get the rest of their clothes off fast enough.

But once they were both bare and he had discarded the rest of the offending clothing, everything slowed down again. He kissed her lips sweetly, still taking care to put no weight on her belly, and then he kissed her throat, the side of her neck, down to her shoulder and then across to where the dip of her collarbone was, and from that point on, he made it his personal mission to kiss and worship every last inch of her. He really did want to commit all of her to his memory in a way that he could never forget, and she felt like she was just barely hanging on, on the verge of being so overwhelmed that she may never recover again.

He worked her up into a quiet, desperate frenzy with the attention that he poured on her breasts, always one of his favorite parts of her. He had watched them change with pregnancy, grow almost comically huge and then return to their more normal, still rather enormous size, and through it all he had always made her feel like the most desirable woman in the world. But she knew that if she had woken up the next morning to find that her breasts had bizarrely and spontaneously disappeared and left her flat-chested, he still would have desired her just as badly. It was a beautiful, rare thing, to know that he found her as beautiful as a man could find a woman, and that he would also love her and want her all the same no matter how she looked or how her body changed over the years.

By the time his mouth had found its way down to her belly, below her navel, she was squirming needily and her head was a mess. He peeked up at her as he trailed lower, her eyes meeting his and body tensing with each new press of his lips, only to deflate a little when he skipped over where he thought he might go next in favor of her legs.

"I love your legs," he admitted, sitting back on his knees and lifting one, pressing his lips to her inner knee. He trailed his lips in the opposite direction that she expected, towards her ankle, and that was just where his mouth ended up. He closed his eyes and kissed and nipped right there at her inner ankle, and when it made a shiver burst through her entire body, she let out a sound of surprise that made him grin at her before setting down her leg to give her other equal attention.

He started at her ankle and then worked his way up, not too slow and not too fast, until his lips were creeping up at her inner thigh and making her tense with anticipation all over again. He waited until he was almost _there_, and then he sucked a lasting mark into the highest part of her innermost thigh before running his tongue along the mark to soothe it. She was nearly _dying_ with need, and he didn't make her wait much longer. He looked up and made searing eye contact with her before bringing her leg over his shoulder and lowering his head, closing his eyes and setting his mouth to her with a low, hungry groan.

She all but melted under his touch like she always did, her head sinking into her pillow and her body pulsing and tensing with pleasure. He went slow but he didn't tease her, instead giving her everything she wanted and making it last as long as he possibly could. His hands roamed from her thighs to her hips, to her breasts and then back down again, his right hand eventually entwining with her left as she grew closer and closer to the precipice that he was guiding her to.

Her fingers tightened between his and her quiet noises grew a little louder as she began to shake. He grasped her hand back and used his left to tease at her breast, the combined sensations and the intensity of the moment pushing her over the edge as she let go with a shuddering, broken moan.

He led her through it carefully and gently, his mouth never fully stopping its work. He still didn't stop when it was over, instead disentangling his fingers from hers and easily slipping two within her, making her gasp and squirm again. He peeked up at her and began to slowly pick up the pace again with both his mouth and his fingers, watching as she trembled and almost tried to shy away from him before the over-sensitivity faded and turned into pure pleasure, and then she was a writhing, moaning mess all over again.

She came again and _again_, two more times before Bucky finally eased up and let her have a break. He pulled his hand and mouth away, panting a little from exertion and looking her over as she laid there before him, a loose pile of heavy limbs and satisfaction thanks to him. Her eyes were closed and she missed the way that he dropped his still-slick hand down to stroke at himself as he slowly made his way up her body, throbbing with need and staring at her like he would never get to see her like this again.

He might not. That was why he had to make the most of it while he still could.

He kissed her gently and slowly until she fully came back around, her mind returning to her after he had successfully blown it away. He let go of himself and instead gently ground against her, the feel of him hard and aching against her belly making her breath hitch and her eyes open.

"You're so gorgeous like this," he told her lowly, tracing the skin of her flushed face with his finger, his tone one of sheer adoration. "Wish I could remember you like this forever."

"You can," she murmured back, kissing him again and then using her jelly-like leg to hook over his hip and roll them over. He gladly went down on his back, hands going to her hips as she kissed his lips from her place atop him. When she pulled away, she added, "And it's still not over. This can still be just the start for us."

His eyes grew unbearably sad, like he already knew the outcome and had foreseen it and thus simply couldn't hold on to such obvious false hope. "_Summer_," he muttered, but she put a finger on his lips and hushed him.

"I know," she replied quietly. "I know. Just... let's enjoy this while we still can. No matter what happens."

He nodded, feather-softly kissing her fingertip, and then she leaned down and kissed him again, words and thoughts and the world forgotten for the time being.

Then, when his soft groans and the push of his hips up into hers became too much, it was time for her to memorize him as he had memorized her. She kissed and touched her way down his body slowly, savoring each inch of skin that she got to press her lips to and the taste of him on her tongue. She knew where all of his spots were too, the ones that would make him shudder with want and the one by his ribs that a brush of her fingers would cause a breathless giggle to erupt from his throat. She tickled him on purpose on her way down, just to see him smile instead of frown for a moment, and when he did indeed smile and curse under his breath, it made her smile and laugh herself before she continued on her way.

He was rather huge in those days, as house arrest had left him with little to do to pass the time aside from spend hours and hours in the tower's gym. Muscles that had already been considerable before were now even bigger, firmer, and she traced every one with her fingers and her tongue. He lovingly ran his fingers through her hair all the while, patience running thin but enjoying her touch too much to ask for more just yet. Besides, he knew that she would take him where he needed to go once she got there herself. He was in no hurry that night.

Her mouth was tracing the defined lines down his hips when her hand finally brushed over him, making him twitch and inhale sharply. She rubbed over him a few times, back and forth before wrapping her fingers around him and slowly moving her hand the way that she knew he liked. She looked up to watch his eyes roll shut and his lips part, looking so incredibly pretty in that moment that she decided she would never forget it.

Then, the very moment that she brought her mouth into it and licked a slow, firm line along his length, above where her hand was, his eyes opened and his hand tightened in her hair. She looked him in the eye and blushed before letting her eyes fall shut and letting her instincts take over, taking him into her mouth and, to both of their surprises, giving him one of the best experiences of his life.

It felt like sheer heat and electricity from the first touch of her tongue onwards. He made noises that he hadn't made in a _long_ time, feeling like he was on the edge from the first moment that he felt himself hit the back of her throat. He kept her hair pushed out of the way with his hand and watched her, using her mouth and her hand to drive him crazy, her every touch tailored to what he loved and designed to make him see stars.

He hadn't planned on losing control just yet, but when she did something _incredible_ with her tongue while swallowing around him and her hand twisting, he found himself tensing and then letting out a helpless, gasping moan from low in his throat, eyes closed and back arched as he spilled into her mouth, all of it beyond his control.

Summer knew better than to worry if she had gone too far and brought the night to an early end. She eased him through it and took all that he gave her, gently releasing him and feeling rather proud as she took in how thoroughly wrecked he was - lying there with his eyes closed, chest heaving up and down, and still half-hard despite it all because, well... super-stamina and general deprivation would do that to a guy.

She smiled at him when his eyes opened and fell on her, still heated and far from satisfied despite having had his mind blown as much as hers had been a little while earlier. He reached for her and she wasted no time in coming, straddling his thighs once again as he sat up and pulled her in for a kiss with a metal hand on the back of her head.

"Didn't mean to do that," he murmured against her lips, slightly sheepish grin on his face.

"I did," she replied cheekily. "You know I _love_ doing that. Only with you, though."

"Yeah, I can tell," he murmured, gently kissing her lips again. "You've always been greedy for it."

A blush touched her cheeks and she smiled, running her hands down his shoulders and his arms, her eyes tracing over the beauty that was _him_. "You know you're beautiful, right?" When he scoffed and looked away with a smile, she turned his face back to her and said, "I mean it. And I know I've told you before, but... I really, _really_ mean it. You're beautiful in just... every single way."

His expression growing more sober and more serious, he didn't argue with her that time. Instead he watched her eyes as her fingers traced his features, from his lips to his cheekbones to his jaw and everything in between, and when he saw her eyes start to shine again, he took her hands in his and draw them away, pulling her closer into a warm embrace and murmuring against her ear, "Please don't cry."

It was too late, however. She was already there, squeezing her eyes shut against his neck, trying not to let the tears fall. He ran his right hand up and down her back, eyes closed almost as tightly as hers were, kissing along her shoulder when it all threatened to become too much.

Tiny, hot little shivers shot up and down her spine as he kissed along her skin, from her shoulder to her neck and back again, his warm fingers trailing softly down her back and over her hip before sliding back up again. She let her eyes open and stopped trying to fight the tears, letting her head loll to the side so he could better mark her neck. Her entire body shivered when he licked a hot path up to her ear, and without fully realizing it, she started grinding down against him and getting him fully ready one more time.

The next time that their lips met, it was all passion and need with underlying emotions that made it all so much more than simple physical touches. He ran his hands over her breasts and made her head spin with what his tongue was doing with hers, and she made his skin tingle with every light scratch of her nails across his back and every rock of her body against his.

They stayed like that, kissing and touching and teasing until Summer herself could hold out no longer. She broke their kiss and straightened up on his lap, shifting them just enough and just right, and then with their eyes locked, sinking down on him at last. He exhaled roughly and she bit her lip, taking him all the way in and dropping her forehead against his, already on the verge of being overwhelmed.

All she could think in that moment was that she _couldn't_ lose him. It was unthinkable, the idea that they'd never be this close again, that she might never hold him close again, never kiss him again, never feel the way that his body trembled with pleasure when they were together like this...

"Hey, hey," came his soothing voice in her ear, his arms wrapped around her tightly and lips kissing her hair. "Don't cry, baby, please."

But she truly couldn't help it. And the problem was that her tears sparked tears of his own, so when he easily and gently turned them and laid her down on the bed, never breaking their connection, she opened her eyes only to find him now overcome as well, eyes glistening with tears that he no longer had the will to fight.

He kissed her softly, deeply, and then stole her breath when he started moving. It was slow and sweet, his lips soft on hers and his breath noisy and labored, and she felt like she was torn between pure heaven and utter hell. He felt the very same way.

They took their time, Bucky slowly increasing his pace and occasionally changing the angle, always making her gasp and slowly crawl closer to the edge. He kissed her lips, her neck, her chest, sometimes leaning down far enough to take a nipple in his mouth and sweetly torture it, and Summer felt the emotion building in her chest and slowly suffocating her all the while. She wanted to hold on to him and never let go, hold on tight and cling to him and dare the world to tear them apart.

When the pace was no longer quite so slow and they could both feel their pleasure building, Bucky cradled her face with his right hand and murmured brokenly against her lips, "I'm so sorry, sweetheart."

Her eyes flew open, meeting his in slight confusion, their movements never faltering. "What?"

He clenched his eyes shut and her heart nearly stopped beating as she watched him cry and grit out, "I never wanted to hurt you, Summer. I'm sorry. _God_, I'm so _fucking_ sorry, baby..."

"No, no," she half-whispered, taking his face in her hands. "Don't, _please_. I love you."

"I love you too," he groaned, breathing hotly against her neck, body rolling against hers and bringing them closer. "Love you more than anything, I swear... please," he said, looking her in the eye, his own tears mirrored on her face, "don't forget me."

"Never," she promised him. "I couldn't, I promise."

He kissed her again, hard and sloppy and desperate, then said against her lips, "I'll never forget you. No matter what, I won't."

"I know," she forced out, voice barely strong enough to speak.

He held her face in his hands, eyes full of love and fear and dread and _devastation_, and then just when Summer was sure that she might stop breathing, everything instead crashed over like a wave and she came with a surprised, strangled cry. Bucky watched her for as long as he could before it overtook him as well, and then he buried his face in her neck and followed her over the edge.

In the aftermath, neither of them could say a word or move an inch. It had all been so _much_ and so intense and _so horrifically sad_ that it left them both satisfied but still unable to restrain their emotions. There was nowhere for them to go but _out_, until they were both entirely cried-out and too exhausted to shed one more tear.

Bucky eventually rolled them both to their sides, holding Summer in his arms and tucking her head under his chin, their eyes closed and limbs entwined, hearts still racing.

It was a long time before either of them spoke. When one finally did, it was Summer.

"I don't want tomorrow to come," she whispered against his skin, savoring his warmth and the feel of his heartbeat against hers.

He kissed the top of her head and tightened his arms around her, closing his eyes tight. "It's gonna come. Promise me you'll be strong. You have to be."

"I will," she replied, having no idea _how_ she was going to accomplish this but seeing no other choice.

"If it's bad," he said, voice trembling only slightly, "you run and you don't look back." She nodded against his chest. "Never look back, Summer."

She nodded again, a wordless promise to leave him behind to his fate so that she and the kids could be safe. She hated it - _absolutely hated_ it - but if this was what he wanted and this was his last request of her, then she would see it through to the end, cost her what it may.

Her last conscious thought before drifting into an uneasy slumber was a prayer that she spoke in her mind, that against the odds, Bucky would be found innocent and that this time the following night, she would be in his arms again. She prayed that he would stay with them, raise their children together with her, and see their third child born when the day came.

Maybe it was a silly little prayer and an even sillier hope to cling to. But she didn't care. She held on to that prayer and that hope with everything she had, knowing that tomorrow they would finally learn Bucky's fate and that she was nowhere near ready to face it.

Neither was he, but they simply didn't have a choice. They would face it together, and it might just prove to be the very last thing that they ever would or _could_ face together.


	67. Chapter 67

**A/N: Okay so, I know everyone's dying for the verdict so I'm gonna keep this note brief :D now, in the past I have been known to skip to the end of books and stories I was reading when they got to a certain point to see what happens because I HAD to know, but I really hope none of you lovely readers do that this week lol. Just... read from the beginning, and when you get to the end, please PLEASE leave me a review with your thoughts because, well, just WOW I cannot believe this story has come as far as it has, and I am so grateful to each and every reader and reviewer, more than words can say. Thank you all so, so much, thank you to midnightwings96 for playing such a huge and irreplaceable role in helping me get here, and I hope you guys enjoy! I'll see you guys soon with the next chapter :D **

It wasn't nightmares, an alarm clock, or a sudden rush of fear and dread that awoke Bucky the next morning. Instead, it was a tiny wet nose sniffing at his face and a dry, rough tongue licking at the tip of his own nose that jolted him into the reality of the new day.

Scrunching up his face and shifting away, Bucky cracked an eye open and found none other than Loki the cat to be the culprit, standing on his chest and staring at him with his unnervingly green eyes. When the cat then began sniffing at him again, this time near his cheek, he batted the ball of black fur away and groaned, "Get away, little fucker." Everyone else could call the thing _Loki_ all day long, but to Bucky, he would always be _little fucker_.

Rather offended at Bucky's rejection, the cat made an unimpressed sound and pranced away, diving off the bed. Bucky then turned on his side, expecting to find Summer laying there next to him, but her side of the bed was empty. Blinking in concern, he began to sit up, rubbing at his eyes and glancing at their clock. It wasn't even six in the morning yet, and it was still dark outside.

He looked towards the bathroom door next, which was ajar and illuminated, and then the sounds of Summer retching rather loudly made it clear why she was out of bed and in there.

Because she was pregnant. Summer was pregnant again, and she had hid it from him until the night before because...

_The verdict_. Feeling like his heart dropped into his stomach and like his insides were crawling and twisting on themselves, reality dawned fully on him and reminded him that today was _the day_. It might be his last day to wake up here, under the same roof as his family.

He didn't sit there and mope, however. One more gagging sound from the bathroom had him up and on his feet, grabbing his pants from the floor and throwing them on as he made his way to Summer, even though he knew there wasn't much he could give her in the way of help. He would still try anyway.

He found her sitting on the floor and hugging the toilet, wearing his shirt and nothing else as she coughed and tried to catch her breath. She glanced up at him when he entered, pale and looking like hell in the throes of nausea, and then she groaned and muttered, "I didn't mean to wake you up."

"You didn't," he assured her, sinking down to sit against the wall opposite her, giving her space.

She sighed and flushed the toilet, hanging her head as she muttered, "Only a couple weeks in and I'm already extremely sick of puking."

He grimaced on her behalf, unable to imagine what it would be like to constantly throw up the way that she did when she pregnant. "You've been hiding it pretty well."

"Not really," she shrugged, though he detected a bit of guilt in her eyes. "You've been distracted."

He paused, looking down at his hands with a frown. "Yeah."

She opened her mouth to say something else, but vomit literally came out instead. Returning to hurling into the toilet, Bucky winced at the sounds and felt himself grow a bit nauseous himself.

"Ugh, dammit," she groaned once she was done, sitting back and letting the back of her head hit the wall. "I should have known better."

He furrowed his brows. "Better about what?"

She opened her eyes and flushed a little, like she'd briefly forgotten that he was there, and she half-stuttered, "Oh, I... well, see, I don't usually throw up in the middle of the night like this. It's usually mornings. But then we... I mean _I_... when we were... doing things..."

He raised an amused eyebrow. All this time later and she still referred to having sex with him as "doing things".

She gestured vaguely and went on, "When you... you know... in my mouth, I didn't really think twice about it, but... once we were finished for the night, my stomach kind of... well, let's just say that it didn't settle very well, so... yeah, that's why I'm barfing."

He stared at her blankly before it suddenly dawned on him what she was talking about. "_Oh_! Shit, Summer, I'm sorry." Now he had something _else_ to feel guilty about, as if there wasn't already enough.

"No, no, no," she waved him off, "it's okay. Not your fault."

"It... is one hundred percent my fault," he pointed out. "I'm so sorry. Why didn't you just -"

She shook her head and rolled her eyes. "I know what you're gonna say, and that's quitter talk. And I'm no quitter."

She sounded so incredibly serious that he stared at her with equal seriousness for a good few seconds. Then they both grinned and started laughing, and Bucky felt like a mess inside - nervous, anxious, guilty, unsure, and now on top of it all, he was laughing like a moron with his slightly delirious, poor pregnant wife.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" he asked after their giggles had subsided, to his relief.

"Yeah, in my purse I've got these little ginger candies. Not very good but they settle my stomach," she replied.

"Okay," he nodded, immediately getting up to go locate said candies.

He came back less than two minutes later, right hand opening up and dropping no less than ten of the candies into her waiting hands. "Oh wow, I only needed one," she chuckled, "but thank you."

"I didn't know how many you'd need. Figured I should be safe," he replied, sitting back down against the wall. He watched her as she popped one of the candies into her mouth, wincing at the strong flavor but relaxing knowing that relief was on the way. He looked her over, tired and sleep-deprived and every bit as torn up as he was inside, and yet she just... kept going. She always kept going, no matter how hard it was for her to do.

She juggled so much, their kids and her job and her writing and Bucky's defense, and now she was even nurturing a new life inside of her on top of it all. A new life that she had borne the burden of alone to spare him the pain and stress of it.

"Was it hard?" he asked as the candy did its job, helping her to relax and ending the early-morning vomitfest. "Keeping it a secret?"

Her eyes grew sad and she groaned, "You have no idea. I don't even know how I did it. Every day I was on the verge of just... exploding, but... I just didn't want to make it harder for you." She paused and muttered, "I still feel like crap for not telling you."

He sighed and shook his head. "Don't feel like that. I wish you would have told me, but... really, the thing that upsets me the most is you putting that burden on yourself when you didn't have to."

She shrugged a little, smiling ruefully. "I don't get the chance to protect you a lot. I just... wanted to while I still could."

Those words sparked a sadness within him that he knew wasn't going to fade any time soon. He sighed quietly, looking down at his hands again, and they sat there in a comfortable silence for the next few moments.

"Here," she said after clearing her throat a moment later, making him look up. She tossed him one of the candies and grinned, "Suffer with me."

He gamely opened the little candy and then popped it into his mouth, watching her eye him with clear entertainment. It wasn't so bad at first, but once it was in his mouth longer than a few seconds, the true flavor came through and he furrowed his brows. It was actually kind of... spicy, in a weird way. It wasn't _terrible_, exactly, but...

"This _settles_ your stomach?" He asked in disbelief, making a face.

She chuckled and reached out to pet Loki the cat as he came meandering into the bathroom, the feline shooting Bucky a look that let him know that he was still unhappy with him. "It's all in the ginger. It's weird but it totally works."

Loki then rubbed against her legs, winding his body around and around and then pushing his head against her hand, and she scratched at the back of his neck as he purred happily. Then he settled at her feet, eyeing Bucky with the same disdain as before.

Bucky sighed. Loathe as he was to admit it, he was gonna miss that little fucker once he was locked up.

He was even gonna miss the tower, big and ugly as it was. He was gonna miss everything about his life as a free man, as someone able to make his own choices and decisions and be able to _live_.

His fate would be set in stone in a matter of hours. But for now, he threw away the candy's plastic wrap and then helped Summer to her feet, lingering nearby while she brushed her teeth and washed her face, and then returning to bed with her to steal away a few more hours.

For the next two hours, he held her close and they whiled the time away by talking about anything but the verdict. They talked about their early days together, their first kiss, their first date, the first time he ever got her top off (one of his top five favorite memories, if he was being honest), their first fight. As fights go, it wasn't that bad, especially considering how it ended with them tearing up Clint's barn in the throes of angry, dress-ripping sex.

"You never did buy me a new dress," she recalled, using his chest as a pillow as he ran his warm fingers through her hair.

"No I didn't," he admitted. "Thought I made up for it with the whole night after night of earth-shaking orgasms thing, though."

She giggled against his skin, tickling it slightly. "So humble."

"S'my middle name," he grinned, eyes on the ceiling.

All was silent for a few moments, and the sun was mostly risen outside their window now. The day had arrived, and there was no getting out of it now.

"What do you want to name this baby?" she asked quietly.

He blinked, sighing. He hadn't thought that far ahead yet, but... well, what _should_ a new child of theirs be named? "I don't know. Any ideas?"

"A few... but I wanna know what you think."

He let his mind roam the possibilities for a moment, settling on what to name a boy first. "If it's a boy... I'm not sure. Something after Steve, maybe."

"Like for a middle name?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Then you could pick the first name."

"I like Jesse," she replied. "Means _gift_ in Hebrew. And we've got a David, and David in the Bible had a father named Jesse, so... it's kind of related."

"Jesse Steven," he mused, testing the name on his tongue. "I like it. How'd you come up with Jesse?"

"A baby name app I've been secretly browsing," she admitted with a small smile. "So... what about a girl?"

One name immediately came to mind. He tried to ignore it for a moment and think of something else, but it didn't quite work. It rather stubbornly stayed at the forefront of his mind. "Could we... could _you_ maybe name her after my sister, if it's a girl?"

"Rebecca?" she asked. "_Rebecca_... yeah, I like it. It's pretty. Classic."

He smiled, happy that she liked the name. "I'll leave the middle name up to you."

"I kind of already had one in mind," Summer said. "And it's funny, since you thought of naming a boy for Steve, because I was thinking for a girl, the middle name could be Natalia."

"Rebecca Natalia," he said, instantly fond of the way the two names flowed together. "That sounds surprisingly good together."

"It does," Summer smiled. "And Natasha would be over the moon."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "You'd better watch out if it's a girl. Nat already tries to steal Addie away every chance she gets, so just imagine if it's a girl _named_ after her."

"Well, Steve'll do the same if it's a boy," Summer pointed out. "He might actually cry, too."

"He will. He'll try to act calm and cool, but the minute nobody's looking, it'll be big crocodile tears. _Patriotic_ crocodile tears."

Summer giggled again. "Oh gosh. _As God Bless the USA_ plays in the background."

"And an eagle flies over the building," Bucky added. The conversation had taken a turn for the ridiculous, but it was distracting them both and they were grateful for it.

"Man... did we really just come up with names that fast?" Summer asked, marveling at such an idea. "Took us way longer with Addie."

"Well, we don't have the luxury of time this time around, so..."

And there it was, reality rearing its ugly head at them yet again. Summer sighed and burrowed deeper against him and under the covers, both of them wishing they never had to leave their bed and that they could just freeze time and stay safe right there forever.

But soon the alarm on Summer's phone went off, and they ran out of time to waste. It was time to get up, get ready, and face the music at last.

The minute the sound of the alarm hit Bucky's ears, he knew that he wasn't ready. But then again, he never really would be.

He got up and out of bed anyway, and so did Summer. Whatever happened, whatever fate awaited him... they would face it together, just like they had faced every other hardship thrown their way.

He still didn't think that he was getting out of this one this time, but _damn_ did he want to. He was sure that he'd never wanted anything so badly before in his life than to be given the chance to live free with his family and watch it continue to grow.

But he wasn't going to get that chance, though. He just _knew_ it.

* * *

Most days, the kids were used to the routine of being dressed, fed, and then handed off to Paul or Sarah or one of the tower's other occupants to be watched for the rest of the day. David was very well used to it by now and never put up a fight, but Adelaide still had her rare days where, for whatever reason, she simply refused to give up without a fight to the death.

Unfortunately, the day of the verdict was one of those days.

"Come on, sweetheart," Bucky cooed, trying to loosen the death grip that his daughter had around his neck, "you've gotta go to Wanda now, okay?"

But the little girl in question only made a noise roughly translated to _no, never!_ and held on even tighter. Bucky sighed and looked to Summer for help, but Summer didn't know what to do. She took a breath and frowned at them, locking eyes with Bucky for a moment as the same thought ran through each of their heads.

This was hard enough for Bucky, kissing and hugging his kids goodbye one last time before the verdict, and the last thing he needed was _this_. This was the proverbial twisting of the knife, and he just... he couldn't handle this.

"Come on, Addie," Wanda said softly, walking around Bucky so she could look at Adelaide's face. She had Addie's favorite doll in her hand, floating just above her palm and swirling it around the air in flickering shares of red, and she smiled, "We're going to have lots of fun today, but you have to let go first."

Adelaide ceased her wailing for a moment, eyeing the toy silently though her grip didn't falter at all. Hoping it would work, Bucky started to put her down, but that only blew it all to hell and she started crying and fighting him again, refusing to let go and part with her daddy.

Summer furrowed her brows and looked away, finding it all simply too cruel and sad to take. It was a testament to Bucky's strength that he didn't start crying right with their daughter, because she _knew_ that he wanted to, but for the sake of the kids, he held it together.

When Wanda's attempt didn't work, Bucky sighed and took Adelaide across the living room, towards the big windows overlooking the city. He talked to her in hushed tones, patting her head and her hair, and as Summer watched, Natasha entered the room and came to stand by her.

"What's going on?" she asked, watching Bucky pace lightly.

"She doesn't wanna let us leave," Summer replied. "And we have to be at the courthouse in half an hour. But Bucky doesn't have the heart to just put her down when it might be... when he might not..."

Natasha nodded, understanding. Dressed for court herself in a stylish, unfairly body-hugging black suit with a knee-length skirt, Natasha walked the short distance across the room as Summer crossed her arms and watched.

Bucky looked up at Nat as she approached, watching her hand reach out and gently rub the little girl's back. "Addie," she said softly, tilting her head to look Adelaide in her tear-filled eyes. "Mama and Daddy's gotta go, okay? They'll be back later. Right now you've gotta go with Wanda for awhile. I know," she quickly added when Addie immediately began to tense up again, "I know you don't want to, but you have to, okay?"

Most other people likely wouldn't have bothered trying to reason with a child as little as Adelaide, but Natasha was never one to underestimate intelligence of children, knowing full well how much they understood even though they never got credit for it. Adelaide sniffed and rubbed at her eyes, the fight in her possibly starting to wane, and then Natasha sealed the deal with her next words.

"If you hurry and come to me," she grinned, "we can dance before I have to leave with them."

Adelaide's head flew up immediately, a smile on her face replacing the pout that was there before. She then started wriggling to get down all on her own, and dumbfounded, Bucky put her down on her feet and looked at Natasha in amazement.

"You're welcome," Natasha grinned at him before kicking off her high heels, grabbing the little girl's hands as she reached for her.

What followed was a little dance that Natasha had been doing with Adelaide since she could walk, where she held her hands and helped her balance on the tips of her toes as she twirled around like a baby ballerina. Adelaide loved it and ate it up, giggling and even snorting a little bit as she was danced around the room by the woman who would always be her Aunt in every sense of the word, blood be damned.

Bucky came to stand by Summer and David, watching the whole display with a slight shake of his head and a smile on his face. His eyes were still shiny, but he was doing his very best to keep his emotions in check. Summer wasn't faring quite as well, but she blamed all the hormones.

Towards the end of their little routine, Natasha glanced at Wanda and said, "Ready for the big finish?"

"Always," Wanda smiled before holding out both of her hands, and when the thin wisps of energy flowing from them reached Adelaide, Wanda propelled her up into the air and spun her around, making Addie giggle with glee and hold out her arms like she was flying.

Bucky and Summer were both smiling at their daughter's adorable antics when Natasha looked at them meaningfully and mouthed _go while she's distracted_. They looked at each other and sighed before nodding, Bucky turning to David and dropping down on one knee to face him fully first.

"Take care of your sister, buddy, okay?" Bucky said, pulling the boy in for a hug. He didn't mean those words for only that day while they were gone, and he hoped that David understood that. When they pulled apart, Bucky smiled at him and said, "I love you, David."

David, not used to such words being a part of the daily routine, furrowed his brows in concern before signing the sentiment back. Bucky smiled again and forced his emotions down, hugging the boy one more time before forcing himself to stand up.

Then he took Summer's hand and, while they always hated doing this, they slipped into the elevator while Adelaide wasn't looking. It was for the best and it was a well-known trick that parents used all the time when dealing with a child who had separation anxiety, but it always left them feeling a bit guilty afterwards.

Summer could tell, looking Bucky's way in the elevator and feeling a pang in her heart when she saw the way that he was staring unfocused at the doors, jaw clenched and eyes shining. She gave his hand a squeeze and laid her head on his shoulder, just wanting to fast forward through the next hour and find out one way or other what their fate was.

* * *

About an hour later, an entire army of press had converged upon the courthouse to await the verdict of the trial of the century. That day, the cameras were allowed inside of the courtroom so that the verdict could be read aloud to the entire country and broadcasted to anyone who wanted to watch.

Bucky walked inside the courthouse as stoically as he always did, eyes focused on his destination and nothing else. Summer's hand was firmly in his as they walked behind their lawyers, Steve and Natasha behind them, Sam on a nearby rooftop providing extra security just in case they ever had to deal with another sniper situation again. Tony was already inside the courthouse in the gallery, Pepper at his side.

That day, there were protests in the streets behind them, both for and against the Winter Soldier. The lines were just about equally divided, and that didn't serve to soothe neither Bucky or Summer's nerves one bit. The jury had taken a week to reach a decision, and whatever it was, they had all clearly reached it unanimously despite the time it took to get there. Matt and Foggy couldn't tell them whether this was a positive or negative sign, since really, it could go either way.

Once they made their way inside the courthouse and into the correct courtroom, Summer kissed Bucky one last time and whispered an _I love you_ before having to head into the gallery with the rest of the onlookers. Bucky gave her a tight smile and mouthed the words back, eyes sad and without hope as he turned to follow the lawyers to the defense table.

Now all that was left to do was wait for the judge and jury to arrive. It was the longest 20 minutes of both Bucky and Summer's life.

* * *

When the time finally came, Summer had a white-knuckled grip on Natasha's hand, and Bucky was as pale as ghost as he looked on and listened to the jury foreman begin to speak.

The list of charges were long and varied, some of first degree murder, manslaughter, and less severe ones like obstruction of justice. Altogether Bucky had been charged with 30 crimes, but it was the first ten - all murder charges - that carried with them the steepest sentences and spelled his potential doom. And those were the ones that the the jury started with.

First, the jury foreman - an older man in his 50s who had been the most difficult juror to read over the course of the trial - read off the name of the case, the case number, all of the information that was required for court records. Bucky swallowed hard and tried to stay steady and calm, even though his heart was pounding against his ribs and his limbs were shaking - even the metal one. He was even praying, something he didn't do often, but hell if he wasn't begging for a second chance that he knew he didn't deserve.

The first charge to be read was, not surprisingly, the first degree murder of President Kennedy. It was the crime with the most historical significance, and part of the reason why the trial was the most major one of the still-young century.

Bucky held his breath. Behind him, Summer was trying not to hyperventilate.

Reading from the paper in his hands, the foreman said, "We the jury in the above entitled case find the defendant, James Buchanan Barnes, _not guilty _of murder in the first degree of -"

_Not guilty_. Hardly anyone in the room heard the rest of the foreman's words, because those two alone carried with it a shockwave that hit everyone watching and waiting like one from a detonated bomb.

Unable to believe what he'd just heard, Bucky's mouth dropped open and he let out the breath that he'd been holding, stoic act gone in a heartbeat. He blinked and furrowed his brows, shock evident on his face, and behind him, Summer had let go of Natasha's hand to cover her mouth with both of her now-violently shaking hands, eyes wide and already shedding tears.

_Not guilty_. But that was also only the first charge, and there were many more to go. The next to be read was that of the murder of Howard Stark, and after that, Maria Stark.

Tony listened as intently as one possibly could as the results were read. Once upon a time, back when he had first found out how his parents truly died, his knee-jerk reaction hadn't has been as generous as his current opinions were. But Pepper had been there to help him see reason, talking him through it all after he'd learned the truth from the HYDRA/SHIELD leak, and now he was, against all odds, one of Bucky's most ardent public defenders and supporters. It didn't mean they could really stand each other behind closed doors and Tony still could only stand to look at him for so long, but yet here they were with Tony literally behind him, hoping that his parents' killer was let off the hook.

And when the foreman declared Bucky not guilty of those charges as well, Bucky's eyes instantly filled up with tears he had absolutely zero hope of fighting. He heard a very faint sound behind him that sounded like a cross of a sob and a gasp, and he knew that it had come from Summer.

Steve had put his arm around her to keep her steady. Behind _them_, Tony let out a deep breath and Pepper tightened her hold on his hand, looking at him in a way that told him how proud she was of him.

Meanwhile, Foggy was so wide-eyed he was in danger of becoming the next Internet meme, possibly to be named "Shocked Lawyer Guy".

All the while, the foreman kept reading through the list of charges. Bucky listened to each one with inhumanly sharp ears, waiting for one of them to be _guilty_ and the hope surging through his veins to be crushed, but that moment never came. What did come was another _not guilty_, then another and another, until the murder charges had all been read through and next to be read were the lesser ones.

Across town at Avengers tower, Wanda and the kids were watching the coverage of the verdict. David understood what he was watching and looked at the shocked and smiling Wanda with an equally happy smile on his face. Adelaide, blissfully unaware of how close her family had come to being forever broken, merely pointed at the TV and babbled about everyone she saw on there - _Mama, Dada, Teeb _for Steve, _A-na_ for Aunt Nat.

Behind Wanda stood Vision, watching with a serene but pleased expression on his face. "The jury chose logic over fear."

"Yeah," she sighed, her smile growing when David barreled into her side for a big, happy hug. "Maybe there's hope for the world after all."

"Maybe," Vision mused.

About forty-five minutes away, Paul was halfway through his shift at the hospital and watching a live feed of the verdict on his phone. The chief of surgery, the same man who had saved Summer's life with the transfusion of Steve's blood, stood next to him and watched as well.

They were in a patient's room, an elderly woman who was in for a routine procedure, and Paul was sitting at her side and holding the phone so that all three of them could watch.

"Well, good for him," the woman declared. "Poor guy. It's a shame he had to go through this trial to begin with. Worthless government."

Paul laughed, wiping at the corner of his suddenly not-dry eye and saying, "That's my brother in law. He's married to my sister."

The woman's eyes widened and she looked at him like he was nuts. Then she looked him up and down and said, "_You_? You're related to that woman?" Paul nodded, and she raised her brows and said, "I'm sorry, son. I saw her on the cover of _People_ at the store the other day, and boy, is she a looker. _Stunning_. You got the shit end of the gene pool, didn't you?"

Paul didn't even have it in him to be offended by the patient's hilariously inappropriate question. He just laughed and shook his head, the chief laughing next to him as they continued to watch the verdict.

All day long, Paul had been consumed with worry. Natasha had secretly told him a few weeks earlier of what she and Bucky had planned for if the verdict was bad, how Summer and the kids would disappear to Florida and possibly stay disappeared for good. But now it looked like things might actually be all right, and that he wouldn't lose the only family he had left to the Avengers' version of witness protection.

Outside of the courthouse and down the street, Esteban and Nicolo were also watching on their phones as they stood in the midst of the pro-innocent protestors. They had been organizing the protests for weeks now, and as more and more charges were dismissed, they celebrated and nearly fainted with relief. Throughout the whole trial they had felt painfully helpless to do much for their friends, but they found a way to do so by shoring up more support and representing their side on the streets. And to their relief, it looked like they were gonna win after all.

Across the country in California, in a medium-security correctional facility that Brock Rumlow was set to spend the rest of his life within the four walls of, he watched as the verdict was handed down during his one hour of recreational time a day. Watching with a handful of other prisoners in front of a small TV that was made around the time Nixon was President, he shook his badly scarred head and laughed softly to himself. "Son of a bitch."

Despite Rumlow's best efforts, it looked like the Winter Soldier was going to escape the fate that he'd condemned Rumlow to not too long ago. But that was fine, Rumlow mused as he turned and ignored the rest of the coverage. Time would tell how long Bucky could avoid vigilante justice, or one of his earlier foes putting a bullet in his pretty little head.

Across the very universe itself, Asgard's gatekeeper watched the scene unfold with his nearly boundless vision. He almost cracked a little smile to himself, planning to tell Thor the good news as soon as possible. Thor was rather busy those days, but he had asked Heimdall to keep an eye on the trial and on his Midgardian friends, and Heimdall had faithfully done precisely that. Thor would be greatly relieved once he was made aware of the trial's outcome.

Meanwhile, back on Earth, in the courtroom where Bucky and Summer still sat in almost identical states of relief and shock, the final charges were read. It seemed impossibly unlikely but in the end, Bucky was acquitted of _all_ the charges against him.

The prosecutor, though she tried to seem impassive, was in a bitter state of denial. Foggy looked like he was about one breath away from putting on a party hat and dancing on top of the table they were seated at, and Matt had turned his head towards Bucky, as if he could see him, and put his hand on Bucky's shoulder. Bucky turned towards him to find a confident, pleased look on his face that spoke volumes.

The judge accepted the jury's verdict. He then with only a few words declared Bucky a free man once more, his house arrest over, and then dismissed the court. For as long as the trial had been, it was over in mere minutes, and the judge seemed more than a little relieved for the circus to finally be over.

Bucky then stood up on shaky legs after the judge left, feeling dizzy and strange and relieved and overwhelmed all at once. The minute he turned around, Summer was _right there_, all but leaping into his arms over the divider, tears streaming down her face and body clinging to his like she planned on never _ever_ letting go.

He laughed - really, fully _laughed_ \- for the first time in weeks and held her tight, being careful not to smash her belly but hugging her as closely to him as he could.

"Oh my God, _oh my God,_" she said through her tears, pulling away to look him in the eye and cup his face with both of her hands as she smiled more brightly than the sun itself. "We did it! We - _see_, I told you there was still hope! I told you we could do it!"

"Trust me, I'm never doubting you again," he said with a huge smile, the weight of the world finally off of his shoulders as he pulled her close again and kissed her with all of the relief and all of the joy that they both felt.

But they couldn't stay there like that forever. The bailiff began impatiently trying to expedite their exits, so Bucky clutched her hand and shot her another smile as they made their way out.

Once they had all filed into the hallway, Summer jumped on Bucky again with another exuberant hug. He laughed again and squeezed her tight, setting her down just in time for her to jump on Foggy next. While she gave him the hug of his life, Steve smiled at Bucky and gave him a hug of his own that was even more bone-crushing.

"Looks like you're never getting rid of me," Bucky said, his voice wobbling just enough to give away how incredibly emotional he was under those joking words.

Steve smiled and hugged him tighter. "I'll survive."

Meanwhile, Summer pulled away from Foggy beaming and _gushing_, "Thank you so, so, so much. I'll never be able to thank you enough for what you did for us."

He blushed. "Oh well, just doing our j-"

Before he could finish that sentence, Summer had already flung herself at Matt next, making him stagger back an inch or two as she showered him with gratitude. He laughed and hugged her back, smiling as she pulled away and continued gushing. "_Thank you_. Thank you so much, the both of you... we're in your debt forever."

"Not at all," Matt smiled. "It was our pleasure."

She just smiled and hugged him again, one more time, thanking God that she had taken a chance and hired those two green lawyers from Hell's Kitchen. They were the least obvious and least conventional choice, but they had kept her husband out of prison and kept her family together. She owed them her life, and she would never forget that.

Natasha appeared at her side next, and the two women hugged with smiles and quiet words between them, Natasha mentioning how now Bucky wouldn't miss the birth of the new baby. Summer held her tighter, sharing a joyful smile with her before Nat turned to Bucky.

Bucky eyed her curiously, knowing that Natasha was really only one for hugs when it came to certain people. She shot him the same look right back, then let a grin curl across her lips as she opened her arms and pulled him into a hug anyway.

"Thank you, Nat," he told her quietly as he embraced her back, "for everything. Everything you did for us."

"You're welcome," she sighed, drawing away and offering him a genuine smile. "All I ask in return is that you name at least one child after me."

Bucky chuckled. "It's funny you should mention that."

But before Bucky could tell Nat what they'd chosen to name the new baby if it was a girl, Tony crashed the party and put an arm around Summer, walking her towards the others. "Okay, so, seeing as I bankrolled the entire defense -"

Steve rolled his eyes. "No you didn't."

"Okay, but I posted the zillion-dollar bail, so almost the same thing," Tony shrugged. "Anyway, as I mentioned before, my contributions to this little cause means that you're both my bitches now." Summer laughed and Bucky grinned, and Tony went on, "From you, Lady Solstice, I'm thinking... cookies. The biggest batch you can make of those triple chocolate ones, every two weeks for the next 20 years. Deal?"

"... I think I might be able to pull that off," she smiled as he patted her shoulder, pulling his arm away.

"Awesome. And from you," he said, turning to Bucky and furrowing his brows, "honestly, I can't really think of anything I want from you. You've already let me tinker with your arm. Honest to God, I'm drawing a blank here."

Bucky smiled and then let his expression sober, knowing full well how Tony used humor to deflect emotional moments. Then he told him quietly, "Look, I just... wanted to tell you again, I'm sorry for my part in what happened. I'm sorry for all of it. And if I could, I'd do _anything_ to go back and change it."

Tony nodded, expression sober now as well. "I know you would." Then he held out his hand, and Bucky shook it. No more words passed between them, because no more were necessary.

As Pepper shared a hug with Summer, Steve let out a relieved sigh and said, "There's gonna be a lot of people who aren't happy with what happened here today. We need to get you guys out of here and back to the tower now. You both need to lay low for awhile."

Summer nodded, returning to Bucky's side and clasping his hand. Natasha said, "We can stage their exit while they leave a different way. Switch cars, too."

Steve nodded, glancing at Summer and Bucky and smiling at the way that they were looking at each other, full of relief and _happy_ and blown away by how everything had turned out. "All right," he said with a stupid grin of his own. "Let's go home."

Bucky smiled at Summer and kissed her one more time after those words were uttered. He had seen crazy, impossible things in his unnaturally long life, from (somewhat) flying cars to his twig of a best friend becoming the world's first superhero overnight, but he didn't think that anything had ever surprised him so much as _this_ had. Standing trial for the crimes that haunted his memories, everything being laid out for all the world to see and for a handful of strangers to decide his ultimate fate, and then being able to walk away from that and _go home_... he half expected to wake up any minute and find out that it was all a dream.

But it was no dream. He and Summer slipped out of the courthouse covertly, through an emergency exit, and slipped through the crowds and the traffic without being detected. They had Natasha to thank for that, as well as her car and its tinted windows.

With their hands linked between their seats and stubborn smiles on their faces, Bucky glanced at Summer and felt his smile grow as the same moment hers did, the moment their eyes met. Then he turned back to the road and drove them _home_.

* * *

In the aftermath of trial, there was a lot of work to do. Summer needed to thank all of her blog followers for their support, arrange a full time return to work, write a check to Matt and Foggy to cover what legal fees she hadn't paid yet, and then somewhere in the midst of all of that, make an appointment with her midwife and also figure out if they were going to stay in the tower long term or move somewhere else.

However, that night, Summer did none of those things. Bucky had things to figure out too, like whether or not he was going to be able to go back to work with the Avengers and how he was going to help support his family if not, and he also needed to make an official statement to the press through Matt and Foggy following the acquittal. But like Summer, he did none of those things and paid them no mind that night.

Instead, Bucky and Summer turned off their phones, left them both on their dresser charging, and climbed into bed well before their typical bedtimes with the kids in tow. It was storming outside, nothing major but enough thunder and lightning to make Adelaide occasionally squeak with fear, and the little family of four dived under their blankets and decided to spend the night doing absolutely nothing but being _together_.

Addie was curled up in Bucky's arms, clinging to him and jumping every time thunder rolled through the sky, and David was sitting down by their feet playing with Loki the cat. Summer was burrowed under the blankets, her legs tangled lightly with Bucky's and her fingers running soothingly through Addie's hair, smiling when Bucky's eyes flickered to hers.

He smiled back, and just then, everything was perfect. They were all safe, they were all together, and while the future remained uncertain, Bucky could never again be prosecuted for HYDRA's crimes. The trial was over and done, and outside of their peaceful four walls, the world was reacting to the shocking verdict.

Summer knew that Twitter must have been absolutely exploding, along with every other social media site in existence. The Internet was probably close to breaking entirely, and while a part of her was curious as to just how crazy it all was, she wasn't going to check any of it until the next day. That night was just for them, and until morning came, the world outside simply didn't exist.

"So," she smiled, breaking the comfortable silence, "I feel like I can breathe again."

"Me too," he said with a relieved sigh, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. "I also feel like I could sleep for a week."

She chuckled, knowing exactly what he meant. Neither of them had really slept in months, Bucky even more so, but now they had a chance to finally and truly _rest_.

Another roll of thunder and a jolt from Addie opened his eyes back up, and he soothingly rubbed her back as he murmured, "It's okay. Just a storm. M'not going anywhere."

Just those simple little words brought tears to Summer's eyes - happy ones - because now he could say things like that and really mean it, and say them without a trace of doubt. He truly wasn't going anywhere. The kids got to keep their daddy - including the tiny one currently "baking" in the "oven" - and Summer got to keep the love of her life.

And she never ever wanted to again feel the kind of anxiety, stress, and fear that she had felt since Bucky's arrest. It felt like her heart had finally been removed from a suffocatingly tight vice that had been tightening and squeezing the life out of it for months.

Now she could breathe. Now he could breathe. And they could live again.

David kneed his way up the bed, plopping Loki down on Bucky's chest and thus sticking him right in front of Addie's face. She giggled and reached out, batting at the cat's face and pulling on his ear, and Loki - who was rather used to the abuse at this point - simply laid down and took it. David smiled, pleased at having made his little sister happy, and then he laid down in the small space between his two parents.

"Looks like we're in for a sleepover tonight," Summer said, snuggling her son closer.

Bucky shrugged, smiling. "I'm okay with that."

For the next hour or so, the kids played and acted silly and made their parents laugh with their antics. The storm outside faded and Adelaide forgot all about it, getting up and bouncing on the bed, persuading her brother to do it with her, and Bucky and Summer let them get away with it because that night was not the night for rules or griping of any sort. They even let the kids break into a bag of candy that Summer kept hidden in the closet for bribing purposes, and both kids ended up passing out around midnight in a mutual candy coma.

They didn't move the kids to their own room or even consider doing so. Instead, Summer lifted Adelaide into her arms, nestled her there safely and laid back down. Bucky moved David next to her, and then he turned off the lights before laying down behind Summer, pulling her close with his arm around her waist, her back to his chest.

It was a tight fit, even on their California King bed, but they made it work. And it was all made complete when Loki pawed his way up the bed, curled up at David's side between him and Summer, and fell asleep.

Bucky kissed the back of Summer's neck, and she smiled and closed her eyes. "Not a bad way to end the night, huh?"

"Wouldn't change it if I could," he murmured, his voice sounding incredibly tired but content and without that edge of fear that had been there for so long.

Summer opened her eyes, gazing at Adelaide's sweet little sleeping face, all plump cheeks and slightly parted lips, and she marveled, "Can you believe we're having another one of these?"

"Not really," he admitted. "Don't think it's really sunken in yet. Even though we've already got names and everything."

"I know," she sighed. "I wonder if it'll be a boy this time." She paused and asked, "Do you have a preference?"

She felt the slight shake of his head against her hair. "Not really. Just as long as it's healthy and looks more like you than me..."

She chuckled. "You know, Addie looks _just_ like you, and she's beautiful, so..."

"Nah, see, I don't see it," he shrugged, propping his chin on Summer's shoulder so he could look upon the little girl in question. "All I see is you."

"Maybe because that's what you _want_ to see," she noted with a grin, turning her face so she could look at him. He glanced at her and grinned, leaning down and placing a sweet little kiss on her lips.

"Know what I think?" he said as he pulled away, stroking his right hand thumb over her jaw.

"What?" she asked playfully.

"I think that we should _definitely_ take that second honeymoon you promised me awhile back."

She smiled brightly, cheeks flushing a little bit as she said, "You mean the one where we spend two weeks on some remote, super private island somewhere, and it's just the two of us for the first week?"

"That's the one," he smiled.

"We can _definitely_ do that, but I have one condition," she replied. "It's gotta be once I'm in my second trimester, because I do _not_ want to spend our second honeymoon barfing into the sea."

He chuckled, corners of his eyes crinkling the process, and _God_ if she fell anymore in love with this man, she was sure she'd simply explode. "Okay. Yeah, no problem. Actually," he raised an eyebrow, "second trimester's also when you get really horny, isn't it?"

She blushed and sighed, nodding. "Yeah, like to the point of insanity, at least for me."

"Even better, then," he grinned, kissing her again. Then he mused, "You were so _sensitive_ last time, too. Didn't know a woman could even _be_ that sensitive."

"... Pregnancy has its benefits," she shrugged, smiling.

"Yeah it does," he agreed, running his hand over her belly softly. "Can't wait to watch this grow again."

"I'll try not to gain a thousand pounds this time," she sighed. "Maybe now that I've got some super-blood of my own, I won't be as hungry as I was with Addie. Maybe everything'll be more balanced."

"Maybe," he mused. Then he paused, and after a comfortable silence passed between them, he said, "Your blood... I was thinking about that recently."

"What about?" she asked, watching his eyes flicker from her to Adelaide and back again.

"Well... there's a theory," he said quietly, "that Steve... that he's gonna be alive a lot longer than the average person, 'cause of the serum. Not long like _Thor_ long, but... probably twice as long as the average lifespan. Heard him and Tony talking about one day awhile back, how his cells regenerating constantly will probably make him live to 150 or something crazy like that."

Summer quietly marveled at that idea before her eyes widened and he realized where he was going with this. "Wait... are you saying that we're gonna live that long?"

"Not that long, no," he shook his head. "I figure with whatever they gave me, it's not Erskine's stuff but still pretty damn close, so... I don't know, maybe I'll get to 125. And you," he said softly, "with Steve's cells bound with yours now, maybe that'll get you pretty close to that."

Summer let that sink in for a moment. Not once since she had met Bucky had she thought about the potential differences in their lifespans, how he might have outlived her by _four or five decades_ if her lifespan was of average length.

"I didn't wanna live that long without you," he murmured. "I mean, I'd have our kids. I'd have Steve, but... I never wanted to think about it."

"I never did," she admitted. "_Wow_. So... do you think Addie will live that long?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. I mean, if you think about it, the cellular regeneration, the immunity to almost everything under the sun... you'd think she'd _have_ to live pretty long."

"Yeah..." Summer mused as she gazed at the baby. Then her eyes traveled to David, passed out and snuggled with his kitty, and Summer frowned as she noted, "David won't have any of that."

"Well," Bucky replied, "maybe one day when he's grown up, we can explain everything to him, and... if he wants to, I'm sure Steve wouldn't mind giving him some blood too."

"Maybe," she sighed. "I don't know. I just... I don't want to outlive him. Parents aren't supposed to outlive their kids."

"Yeah," he murmured, laying a comforting kiss on her shoulder. "We'll figure it out. Don't worry about it right now. Just... think about us poking around our house somewhere at the age of 115."

She laughed, closing her eyes and jostling Adelaide slightly with how she trembled with giggles. "Oh my gosh. I'd be deaf in one ear and you'd have to yell at me all the time for me to hear anything."

He chuckled, running his fingers through her thick black hair. "And this'll all be gray."

She groaned. "Yeah... unfortunately. See, you on the other hand, will totally rock the graying look. Like... if I imagine you with some gray in your hair, like on the sides, just... _whoa, man_."

"Like that idea?" he grinned. When she replied in the form of a nod and a shiver, he chuckled and said, "Well, for what it's worth, I'll still think you're incredibly sexy when you're gray, too."

"Well, see, to me that depends on what kind of gray I get," she replied. "My grandma had really pretty white-gray hair, and she kept it long until the day she died. It was awesome. I want gray hair like that."

Bucky nodded. "Well, at least then I'll still have something to hold on to after I take a fistful of Viagra and take you to bed."

She laughed again, mildly horrified at the image that popped into her head. "Oh God, _Bucky_!"

"That's what you'll be saying then too, long as neither of us break a hip," he replied, dissolving into his own laughter on the last few words.

"That's... oh man," she said between giggles, trying to calm down before she woke up one of the kids. "I don't wanna think about that. Old people don't have sex."

"Yes they do," he pointed out. "They probably have a lot of it. What else is there to do once you retire?"

She covered her face with her free hand, groaning. "That's so gross."

"You won't think it's gross when _we're_ the old people," he said, stealing a quick kiss on her neck, beneath her ear. "I'll still have the moves. So will you."

She sighed and shook her head, still finding the thought disturbing but realizing with a little surge of happiness in her heart how lucky they were to have their future back. Just the day before he had asked her to forget him one day and move on, find someone else and learn to be happy again without him, and now that would never have to happen. They could stay together now, grow old together and spoil (and probably embarrass) the hell out of their kids and grandkids for a long, long time. Maybe even longer than Summer had previously thought possible.

It was an enormous gift that they had been given, and neither of them were going to take it for granted for even a moment.

"I love you," she said quietly, when silence had fallen once more and the pull of sleep began to creep up on her. She covered his hand still resting on her belly with her own, and he nestled in closer against her with a soft kiss to the back of her neck.

"I love you too," he replied, and she could _feel_ how much he meant those words. He loved her more than she thought any man ever would, and even she in all of her lingering insecurities and occasional lapses in confidence could ever doubt that.

He loved her like her grandma used to tell Summer her husband loved her, before the war and acts of evil had taken his life at far too young of an age. He loved her the way she remembered her own father loving her mother, looking at her like she was the center of his whole universe before their time on the earth was also cut entirely too short.

He loved her in ways that she wouldn't have been able to fathom if she hadn't loved him back just as deeply and unshakably, but she did. And she knew how very lucky that made them both.

They fell asleep soon after, safe in the heart of the city and the tower itself, in each other's arms and next to the children that completed their family. Everything was peaceful, everything was okay, and nobody was coming to tear them apart.

The trial, as hellish as it had been, hadn't been the end after all. It was, instead, only the beginning of the rest of their lives together.


	68. Chapter 68

**A/N: I am SO sorry for the wait for this chapter guys, holy crap. After finally getting to the verdict I experienced this weird end-of-story slump thing lol and I just COULD NOT write anything for this for the longest time. But after working on my high school reunion AU for awhile, I was able to get past my problems and FINALLY get this thing done. So yay! I am EXTREMELY happy to be done with this chapter. So, so happy lol **

**THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH for your reviews and follows :D I love you all so much and I am just so excited to be getting down to the end here, and also amazed that we've actually gotten here lol. My ever-undying thanks to midnightwings96 for all her help and input and general awesomeness, and my thanks to you all for reading and sticking with this story to the end :D OH AND for those of you who have read my Matt Murdock/OC fic Woman on Fire, Siobhan makes an appearance in this chapter :D if you haven't read that story it's okay too, everything will still make sense :) anyway, on to chapter 68! :D One more chapter and an epilogue left after this! **

The morning following the verdict, Summer awoke early with a tight, twisting knot in her gut. It was how she was used to waking up, thanks to her pre-existing anxiety being multiplied by roughly 1,000 during the trial, and for a moment or two, she was too tired and out of it to fully remember the previous day's events.

But then, after she opened her eyes and took a look around her, what she saw jogged her memory in the very best way possible. She saw both of her kids laying in bed with her, both still sound asleep and their cute faces the pictures of pure peace. Then, to her right laid Bucky, also sound asleep and apparently cuddling with Loki the cat, who was happily snoozing in the crook of his metal arm.

Then she remembered, and the twisting and turning of her gut disappeared in an instant. The trial was over. Bucky was innocent, and the American government could never try him for the Winter Soldier's crimes ever again. He had been vindicated by a jury of his peers, none of them influenced in any way by the Avengers, and he was a free man.

_They_ were free. Summer smiled and laid her head back down on her pillow, hardly able to wrap her mind around the concept that the worst really was over and that their future was once again in their own hands. But damn if that wasn't the best problem she'd had in a _long_ time.

Carefully, doing her best not to wake anyone up, Summer sat up and quietly slid out of bed. Once she stood up she looked back, making sure everyone was still out, and the only one who had opened their eyes was little Loki. But he merely stretched and then curled back up in a content little ball of fluff and went back to sleep, and Summer smiled to herself before heading to the bathroom.

Now that her anxiety had fallen to much more normal levels and she was no longer having to consider the very real possibility of having to change identities and disappear to central Florida, Summer even felt better physically than she had in weeks. She didn't throw up that morning and she didn't feel especially nauseous, and she took advantage of that particular blessing by getting in the shower and actually enjoying it instead of merely enduring it.

She washed her hair and conditioned it, going through her usual routine and finding herself unable to help but to smile to herself every few minutes. She was just so _happy_ for the first time in so long, and she felt like now she could finally be properly happy for the new baby on the way - not because she wasn't happy before or that she had been afraid to raise the child without a father, because neither of those things were true. But now she would get to raise _all_ of her kids on her own terms, and Bucky would get to watch all of them grow up before his eyes. Things would be as they had always been meant to be, and how could she _not_ smile in the face of all of that?

That stubborn smile of hers only grew bigger when she heard the shower door open and a moment later felt strong, familiar arms - one warm and one cold - wrap around her from behind and pull her against a body that she knew better than she knew her own.

He pressed his lips to her neck softly, metal hand splayed protectively and sweetly over her belly as he murmured, "Tryin' to sneak off in here without me?"

"No," she smiled, letting her head fall back on his shoulder. "Just didn't wanna wake you up."

"I'd much rather lose sleep and be in here with you," he replied lowly, flesh fingertips turning her chin his way so he could lean down and capture her lips in a delightfully minty kiss.

She smiled into the kiss and turned slowly in his arms, pulling him forward and walking them both under the shower's generous, warm spray. He broke the kiss as the water hit his hair and cascaded down his shoulders, and the way that he grinned at Summer made her heart leap in her chest. He looked so much _lighter_, like he was no longer balancing the weight of the world on his shoulders, and she couldn't help but giggle a little when he pushed his now-wet hair back from his face and tugged her against him again.

His kiss was sweet, soft and _happy_, and when it came to an end, he opened his eyes and gently brushed his nose against hers. "You know," he murmured, quiet against the sound of the water spraying all around them, "there's something I didn't get to do last night, 'cause of the kids sleeping with us."

Arms winding around his neck and fingertips playing with the wet hair at the nape of his neck, Summer played ignorant and asked cheekily, "What's that?"

"I didn't get to thank you for everything you've done for me," he replied, the seriousness of those words taking her by surprise. "You've been... more than I ever could have asked for, through everything that's happened, and..."

She smiled and shook her head. "You don't have to thank me. I love you. I never thought twice about any of it, not once."

He smiled a little, affection and love incredibly evident in the way that he looked at her. Then he murmured deliberately lowly, "I _do_ have to thank you, though."

And with that, he pushed her against the cool tile of the wall, and with just enough of the water still spraying over them to keep them warm, he kissed her with a quiet but unyielding passion that made her thoughts turn to mush. All this time that they had been together and all the problems and challenges that they had faced and overcome, and he could still render her utterly useless with a single kiss.

He knew just how to work her up, how to chase her tongue with his and make her moan from just his kiss before trailing his lips elsewhere. She closed her eyes as he kissed her neck, licking off the droplets of water slowly rolling down her skin, and then before she knew it he was dropping down to his knees and leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses down her torso. He kept his eyes on her all the while, love and mischief dancing in that gaze of his and making her smile and shudder at the same time.

He gently dragged his teeth over her hipbone, reaching behind one of her knees to pull her leg over his shoulder. It was her scarred leg, the one that had been crushed by a car a few years earlier, and he didn't hesitate to kiss the fading, light pink and white scars that she was used to by now. If nothing else, they matched the gunshot scar on her abdomen and the smaller scar on her forehead that the Winter Soldier - not Bucky - had given her.

The scars were all lasting symbols of Bucky's guilt, and he would forever blame himself for each and every one of them, but that didn't stop him from wanting her just the same. In reality, seeing what she had endured and how much stronger she was for it made him desire her all the more, even while always reminding him how unworthy of her he thought himself.

She held on to his hair and shoulder for balance as his kisses crept further up her inner thigh. She watched him inch closer and closer, closing her eyes once he was finally _there_ and thanking her for her love and support in a way that she definitely wasn't gonna object to anytime soon.

By some miracle, the hot water lasted them throughout the entire long, rather enjoyable shower. It was still hot after he had taken her apart with his mouth and then got back on his feet and picked her up, his metal arm supporting her weight as he took her against the wall. It was all slow and sweet movements, languid but deep and punctuated by low gasps and quiet groans. They kissed through it all until the end, when they both reach their ends pressed forehead to forehead and wrapped in each other's arms. Then, once they had come back down to earth, they grinned at each other and stole a few more kisses as he gently set her down so they could rinse back off.

The idea that they got to have countless more mornings like this together was enough to make Summer feel more happier than she possibly ever had before. Their freedom was starting to sink in and truly feel real, and it only got better once they dressed and headed back into their room.

Adelaide was awake and currently putting little Loki the cat on her brother's head in an effort to wake him up. David simply batted the ball of fur away, so Adelaide let the kitty go and instead opted to lay down next to David and try to pry his eyes open with her tiny fingers.

Bucky and Summer watched quietly from the bathroom doorway, silly smiles on both of their faces. Their smiles then became wide-eyed expressions of awe when Adelaide took to a different tactic, peppering her brother's face with kisses until he started giggling.

It never failed to melt Summer's heart to see the bond between her two kids. They were eight years apart and didn't have a lot in common thanks to that age gap, but David adored her and Adelaide followed him around all day like a baby duck. And soon there would be a third little one running around, trailing after them both and making life more hectic but also even happier.

Speaking of that...

"We need to tell everyone today," Summer told Bucky quietly. "Steve doesn't even know yet."

"Yeah, I know," Bucky nodded. "Everybody's outside eating breakfast, by the way. Think I heard Paul's voice too, before I jumped in the shower."

"Really? Well, that's perfect then," Summer grinned, finally leaving the doorway. David was officially awake now, and Adelaide was giving herself an exuberant round of applause for her good work in waking him up.

Summer went to their dresser to dig into one of the drawers while Bucky mussed David's hair as a way of saying good morning, then scooped up Adelaide in his arms and gave her a good squeeze. She giggled and hugged him back, her tiny arms wrapped around his neck as Bucky asked Summer, "What do you have in mind as far as how to tell them?"

"Well, Natasha actually bought this the other day when she was out, and I figure..." Summer then turned around and smiled brightly as she held up a black and pink t-shirt in Adelaide's size with the words "big sister" spelled out in little pink sequins. "Adorable, right?"

Bucky laughed. "So you're gonna put that on her and take her out to eat breakfast and just wait for everyone to notice?"

She shook her head. "Nope. I'm gonna put her hoodie on over this, and then I'm gonna tell everyone that Natasha found the cutest shirt in the history of all baby shirts. Then I'm gonna set her down where everyone can see her, take off the hoodie, and watch it dawn on everyone what the shirt means."

"I like it," Bucky grinned. "Let's just leave out the part about making the baby on the roof. Tony would never let us hear the end of it."

"Well, _I_ won't tell anyone, but Nat probably will."

Bucky sighed. "You told her?"

"... Honestly, Bucky, I tell her about pretty much every time we... do the thing," Summer said, mindful of the little ears in the room. "I mean, it's almost embarrassing how little I can hold back from her. So... yeah."

Bucky shook his head and then turned to Adelaide. "Your mama's something else, kiddo."

Summer grinned and tossed the big sister shirt at Bucky, who caught it with his free hand. "Put it on her and let's hurry up and tell everyone."

"Yes ma'am," Bucky grinned back, and Summer rocked on her heels excitedly for a second or two. Suddenly she couldn't wait to share the news, and she was nearly overflowing with excitement.

What better way to kick off the start of the rest of their lives than with some _very_ happy news that their friends were long overdue for?

* * *

"They've finally emerged from their Batcave!"

Summer laughed off her brother, strolling into the common area with her entire little family in tow. Adelaide broke out into a sprint when she saw her uncle, jumping into his waiting arms and giggling happily. "We haven't gotten to sleep in in a _very_ long time," Summer shrugged with a smile, watching her daughter squeeze Paul nearly to death.

Natasha, sitting at the table with a cup of coffee in her hand, raised an eyebrow. "Sleeping in? Is that what the kids are calling it these days?"

Grabbing a muffin from the kitchen, Tony then piped up, "Hey, leave them alone. They deserve a little time to defile each other in peace, although I don't know how they manage it with their kids sleeping in the same room."

Strolling past Bucky to the coffeemaker, Bucky replied, "It's called the shower."

"Oh, shower sex! Always fun. Unless somebody slips, then it's significantly less fun," Tony added.

Sitting next to Natasha, Sam leaned forward and noted, "You sound like you've got some experience with that."

"Suffice it to say that hotels don't always have the sticky things on the floor that keep you from slipping, and when you're trying to hold up a supermodel who's about seven inches taller than you..." Tony shrugged. "I needed three stitches."

"Okay, how about we all dial back the sex talk? Little ears," Summer said, gesturing to David as he hopped on to a chair at the table next to Wanda, his usual spot.

"It's his parents' fault," Tony shrugged, leaving the kitchen. "Walking out here with your stupid-happy faces and messed up hair smelling like sex and..." He paused next to Summer and took a whiff near her head. Furrowing his brows curiously, he guessed, "Vanilla cupcake body wash?"

"No," Summer joked, finally able to better handle Tony after knowing him for five years. "That's my edible lotion you're smelling."

Tony raised an eyebrow. "Oh, now we're talking."

Bucky appeared at their sides with a steaming cup of coffee, casually replying, "I like to lick it off, what can I say. It's like licking the frosting off of a cupcake before you finally bite into the center."

Tony merely stared at Bucky and blinked before muttering, "Thanks. Now I'll never be able to see a cupcake without thinking of you biting into her center."

"Hey, whatever gets your engine going, man," Bucky shrugged. "Although it's less _biting_ and more licking and suck-"

"Okay!" Summer giggled, face going up in flames. "Awesome! Now that you've explained something to Tony that I'm willing to bet he's already pretty well aware of -"

"I was just trying to be helpful," Bucky replied innocently, bringing his mug back to his lips. "Since I've been doing it longer than he's been alive."

Summer groaned and Tony asked, "You guys did that back in the forties?"

"And thirties," Bucky replied. "Well. At least _I_ did. Can't speak for everybody."

Tony nodded. "Well, I mean, what straight man in his right mind turns down a perfectly good cupcake?"

Summer groaned and rolled her eyes.

"Exactly. And the more frosting the better," Bucky agreed.

That was the moment that Steve decided to reemerge from wherever he had been a moment before, and Tony was quick to holler, "Hey, Gramps! Come here and talk about cupcakes with us."

"Cupcakes?" Steve smiled, furrowing his brows. "Is that a euphemism?"

"He's catching on," Tony noted. "Dammit."

"Is it safe to come back over here now?" Paul asked, wandering back over and still toting Adelaide in his arms. "I heard the words 'licking the frosting' or something and I just really don't want to know."

Summer's blush deepened and Tony chuckled at his own actions, while Bucky glanced at Summer in a way that couldn't have possibly been any warmer. It was after noticing these things that Steve smiled and said, "Well, looks like things are getting back to normal."

"It's about time," Paul agreed. "No more doom and gloom around here, huh?"

"Doom and gloom has been officially cancelled," Tony nodded. "Least until the next cackling super-villain comes along to stir things up, but that's the kind of thing we're set up for. Right?"

Tony looked at Bucky as if awaiting an answer, and Bucky glanced at both him and Steve before replying honestly, "I think I should probably take a... extended vacation for awhile, until the dust settles. I don't know if I should even be on the team anymore."

"Of course you should be," Steve replied without hesitation. "I agree that we should wait awhile before you jump back in, but this is where you belong."

Bucky nodded, a quiet moment falling within the small group for a moment. Then Paul spoke up first, wondering out loud, "Why is Addie wearing a hoodie when it's like 76 degrees in here?"

Summer's eyes widened. "Oh! Because - because I have something to tell, I mean show, I have something to show everyone!"

Paul, Steve, and Tony all stared at Summer in mild concern. "... Why are you suddenly as red as a tomato?" Paul asked.

"No reason," Summer lied, stepping forward and snatching Adelaide from Paul's arms. "So Nat found a shirt the other day at a kids' store, and it's the cutest shirt I've ever seen in my life. Everybody's gotta look at it."

She then took Adelaide and plopped her right on top of the table, to which Tony asked, "Do you really need to put your kid's diapered butt on my table that costs more than most cars?"

"Yes, I do," Summer replied. "Okay, everybody. Come look at this thing."

Natasha shot Summer a grin, knowing exactly what she was doing. Wanda leaned far enough out of her seat to see, and Sam hopped down to get a better look himself. That left Steve, Tony, Paul and Bucky all standing behind Summer and watching as she unzipped the hoodie and then pulled it apart to show the shirt that laid underneath. Then she grinned like a madwoman and chirped, "Ta-da!"

What followed was dead silence. Steve tilted his head in confusion, and Tony seemed to see everything _but_ the words and thus wondered what was so great about the shirt. But it was Paul who read the words not once, not twice, but three times before exclaiming, "_Wait_ \- big sister?!" Then he turned to Bucky. "You knocked up my sister _again_?!"

Bucky's grin was as bright as the smile on Summer's face. "I might have."

Steve let out a laugh then and Tony rolled his eyes in a good-natured, affectionate way. Sam was shaking his head at all of them, and Summer soon found herself pleasantly squished in one of the best hugs Steve had ever bestowed upon her.

"Congratulations," he laughed as he hugged her. "I don't know how you guys pulled this off, but..."

"Honestly, me either," Summer admitted after he released her. Then it was Paul's turn to nearly suffocate her with his arms, and as Summer felt her hormone-swollen emotions start to get the best of her, Tony gave Bucky's arm a pat and Steve gave him a hug next.

"You're sure gonna have your hands full," Steve chuckled.

"Yeah," Bucky grinned after pulling away. "And here I thought they were already full."

"You know, you keep going at this rate and you're gonna have a brood the size of Weasley's over there," Tony gestured to the ecstatic Paul.

"No," Bucky shook his head, eyes growing a bit wider. "Seven is... too much. No."

"Better start wrapping it up then, Frosty," Sam interjected, patting Bucky's shoulder next. "Or you know, make a trip to the doctor and get a lil' snip snip."

Summer quickly whipped around and said, "Nothing is getting 'snip-snipped'! Shut up, Sam!"

"I'm just saying," Sam shrugged, "unless you guys _wanna_ multiply like rabbits -"

"Hey, kids are great," Paul interrupted. "My house is a zoo and I love it. The louder the better. It's fun."

"Are you sure it's the kids themselves that are so much fun or is it the act of making them?" Tony asked.

"Both!" Paul replied without hesitation. "Duh!"

In the midst of all the ruckus, Wanda left her seat and gave Summer a hug, then admitted, "I might have already known."

"Really?" Summer blinked. "How?"

"Well, David's thoughts can be very loud sometimes," Wanda smiled. "But I didn't say anything because I assumed that you would tell when you were ready."

"Thank you," Summer sighed, truly grateful for her consideration. "It's been a very... overwhelming couple of weeks, that's for sure."

"Hey, so question," Tony piped up, interrupting like only he could. "So considering the very large role I played in the trial going your way and all of that - like the giant check I wrote to bail your hubby out, remember that? I thought so - so keeping all of that in mind, you're gonna name this kid after me, right?"

Summer smiled uneasily. "_Well_..."

"Antonia's not the worst name for a girl," he went on. "And for a boy, what could be better than Anthony Stark Barnes?"

Bucky furrowed his brows. "Wouldn't that be your name if you married me?"

Tony paused and then looked at Bucky in disbelief. "Are you kidding me? Any dude I married would be taking _my_ name. Not that I plan on marrying any dudes, but -"

"Well actually, we kind of already picked out names," Summer said, suddenly feeling a bit nervous now that she was about to share them.

"That was fast," Sam chuckled.

She smiled back and said, "Well, we did some thinking and... if it's a girl, we like Rebecca Natalia. Rebecca was Bucky's little sister, and Natalia of course is for..." Summer's eyes flickered to Natasha, whose expression was uncharacteristically unguarded as real, genuine surprise flickered through her eyes. She gave Summer a little smile, Bucky too, and then while Summer still had her nerve up, she added, "And if it's a boy, Jesse because... we like it," she chuckled. "Kind of goes with David. And for a middle name... Steven."

Now it was Steve's turn to let his face light up with surprise, smiling and somewhat resembling a big happy puppy. "Really?"

Summer smiled widely and Bucky laughed quietly at how clearly pleased and touched their two friends were. Then Tony rolled his eyes and said, "Yeah, yeah, fine. But I call dibs on the next baby."

Summer laughed at his persistence and then took a few steps forward to pull the billionaire into a hug that he hadn't expected. "We wouldn't be here without you," she told him. "Thank you for everything you've ever done for us. Which is a lot."

"Yeah, you're welcome, kid," he replied, patting on her the back.

"Besides," Summer grinned, drawing back, "maybe you can name a kid of your own after yourself one of these days."

"Maybe," he mused. "Stranger things have happened, right?"

"Definitely," Summer replied. "Like Pepper staying with you this long."

Tony barked out a laugh. "You've got me there, Cupcake."

Summer groaned. "Please don't tell me that's my new nickname."

"I'm trying it out," he grinned. "We'll see if it sticks."

Over the next few hours, the happy little group ate and laughed and had their first genuinely carefree time together in ages. Summer managed to eat breakfast without throwing it up and Bucky was smiling and laughing with his friends, something she hadn't seen him do in a _long_ time, and David was also more relaxed than he'd been in months. Steve and Natasha couldn't have been happier about the name situation and they showed it - Natasha a little bit more, since most of her life she had never thought of herself as someone worthy of having anything good named in her memory. But that had changed, and it meant the world to her.

After a bit of time had passed, Summer lifted her self-imposed social media embargo and checked her Twitter feed. It was, predictably, utter insanity and chaos, with people on both sides of the trial tagging her and expressing either ardent support or ardent hatred. More than used to it by now and not caring one bit about the negative comments now that it was all over, Summer retweeted a meme that she had been tagged in - Frodo after the ring had been consumed in the fires of Mount Doom, with the caption _It's done, it's finally over_ \- as well as a handful of other posts before posting her own brief but heartfelt message of thanks to the people who had supported Bucky and herself through it all.

Life would never be the same, that was for sure. She was a real, bonafide celebrity now, and FRIDAY was nice enough to inform the room that since the verdict, Summer and Bucky had received a combined several hundred deaths threats across the Internet.

That was to be expected, of course. Bucky would probably never fall off of the radar completely in that sense, and there would always be those who felt that justice had failed and that he deserved to die for his crimes. But that was another reason why they needed to lay low until everything calmed down a bit, and neither of them had a problem with that. One could still do a lot of things while staying off the radar, like throw a luxurious and well-deserved party for the inner circle to celebrate the innocent verdict.

And that, Summer decided, was exactly what she was going to do.

* * *

The next two weeks whirled by in a pleasant, happy daze. Summer's nausea continued to ease up and she and Bucky both slept better than they had in months. The kids were extremely happy and Summer had a blast planning what she was calling their "victory party".

It was going to take place at the tower's penthouse. Though it was going to be a small affair, Summer went all out with it and bought herself a new dress that she almost - almost - didn't have the guts to wear. She told everybody to dress their best and sent out real, physical invitations to all the attendees. And for Thor, who obviously lacked a post office in Asgard, Summer opted for her usual tactic of yelling up an invitation to the sky.

The day arrived in what seemed like the blink of an eye. Before Summer knew it, it was only an hour until the little event began and she was in the bathroom, putting the finishing touches on her hair and makeup while also trying not to chicken out and change dresses at the last minute.

She was nearly done when there was a knock at the door. After so long spent living with Bucky, she knew his knock and couldn't mistake it for someone else's. "Come in," she called, looking in the mirror and deciding that this was the moment of truth.

The door opened and in he went, strolling inside and looking like the picture of sex itself in a perfectly tailored all-black suit. She stared at him through the mirror, having _not_ expected that, but then he stopped and stared at _her_.

Clearly, he fully approved of her choice of gown. "_Holy fuck_," he groaned, eyes flitting over her entire form as if they didn't know where to possibly focus first.

She turned around to face him fully, cheeks flushed with heat that she couldn't control. "Is it okay? Is it too much?"

The gown was sleeveless and made entirely of paper-thin and completely sheer material on the first layer. What parts of her body that were not visible was covered by white and silvery feathery embellishments. The embellishments were strategically placed, covering her breasts but allowing for a very plunging neckline and for the most amount of cleavage she had ever displayed in a dress. Then they wound down to cover her belly and hips and the rest of her lower half, though the back was completely sheer from the small of her back to the nape of her neck.

It was daring, to say the least.

"No," he said, swallowing against a suddenly very dry throat. "Definitely not. It's... _fuck_. It's perfect."

"Okay," she smiled, brushing back a lose, lightly curled piece of hair that was free from her updo. "Because I've never worn anything quite like this before, but... it's really pretty and I don't know... seemed like a good time to take a risk?"

"Don't second guess yourself," he told her, stepping closer and reaching out to carefully place his hands on her hips. He looked her up and down, eyes lingering on her unbelievably full breasts that frankly were impossible not to stare at in their current state, and then he added, "You look... more than amazing. The only problem is I don't know how I'm gonna keep my hands off you all night."

She smiled and then wrapped her arms around his neck. "Yeah, well, same here, with you in your black suit of sex and all."

He smirked. "Somehow I think I still have it worse."

"I don't know about that. They say a well-tailored suit to to women what lingerie is to men, so..."

"Well then, I chose well," he replied cheekily before leaning in and stealing a kiss. She smiled against his lips and kissed him back, both of them losing themselves for a moment or two until Summer smiled again and gently broke the kiss.

"Whoops," she said, wiping off a little bit of lipstick that she had gotten on his lips. "Sorry. We should get going, before we, uh... get distracted."

He grinned and nodded, "Yeah. But I've got something to show you first."

"Ooh," she smiled. "Is it a surprise?"

"It is, actually," he admitted. "See, awhile ago - before I got arrested - I was trying to figure out what to get you for your next birthday. I finally came up with an idea and I needed help from Steve and Tony, Nat too, but I finally got it done and I had it all ready. But then... you know what happened next, and after that, it just... was never the right time. You'll understand once you see what it is, but..."

Surprised at how suddenly serious he was and how serious this gift must be, Summer replied softly, "Okay."

He smiled at her. "I really hope you like it. I put a lot of work into it but there's a chance you won't like it, and -"

"I can almost promise you that I'll like it," she assured him. "Just show me. I'm dying now to find out what it is."

"Okay," he chuckled. "Walk in front of me and close your eyes. No peeking."

She laughed and did as he said, and he walked her out of the bathroom and into their bedroom. He steered her towards the bed, and once they were just a few steps away from it, he told her quietly, "Okay. Open your eyes."

So she did. And the first thing she saw when her gaze fell to the bed before her were blueprints, rolled out and laying flat on top of the sheets. She smiled in slight confusion, not quite understanding as she took a closer look at the plans. But upon closer inspection, it became clear what she was looking at.

"These are for a house," she said, taking special note of the section where a large and spacious kitchen was laid out.

"Your old house," he said, "it's gone but you still own the land. If you wanted, you could build a new house there. _This_ house, if you like it."

She looked away from the blueprints and turned to him with the most pleasant of shock written on her face. "You want to a build a new house there?"

He took a breath and glanced at the blueprints, murmuring, "You know, nowhere ever really feels like home. Not the building at least. This tower isn't home for either of us. I know how you feel about the kids having their own space and their own home, which is why we rented our last house, but... still didn't feel like home, you know? I liked it, but..."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," Summer said softly.

"But I think back to your house... your grandmother's house," he said, a slight smile curling the corner of his lips, "and even though I only spent a month there and half of that time I wanted to put a bullet in my head... I don't know. Something about it, when I look back now, feels... right, or safe. Something. I can't put my finger on it. Maybe it's because it's where I found you."

She smiled. "Best place you ever decided to pass out in front of."

He chuckled briefly before the smile fell off his face and his expression grew serious again. "It's my fault you lost that house. But... I figure this is our chance to start over. And we should have our own home. A real home. And if we can't find a place like that, maybe we can build it ourselves."

Tears stinging behind her eyes and threatening to destroy her makeup, Summer turned towards him and launched herself into his arms. "Oh my God," she said, holding him tight and trying her best not to cry. "This is perfect. More than perfect. I can't believe you thought of this." Then she pulled back enough to look at him with slight concern. "But do you really want to move to Virginia? Everybody's here and your job is here."

"I'm kinda unemployed right now," he pointed out ruefully. "And yeah, maybe we won't see everyone as much, but we can come up on weekends or whenever we feel like it. They can come down to us, too. You can do a lot of your work for SI from home and come up for events."

She smiled. "I'm guessing you cleared this with Tony a long time ago?"

"Of course I did," he grinned. "Got all the bases covered." Then he paused and asked, "So... is that a yes?"

"Only if you're sure," she replied. "You know I want our own house, and this is _absolutely perfect_. But only if you want it too."

"I do," he assured her. "I want it. And I mean it."

She then smiled so wide it nearly hurt. "Then _holy frick_, yes! Oh my God," she laughed happily before kissing him out of pure glee. He laughed too and kissed her back, holding her close and feeling an enormous sense of relief that after waiting so long, he had finally given her his gift and she had loved it even more than he'd thought she would.

Summer was on cloud nine. The thought of building a new home where her old one had once been had never even crossed her mind, so she didn't know how much she wanted it until Bucky had given it to her as an option. But now that he had and she had said yes, it felt _perfect, _like another piece of the puzzle had fallen unexpectedly into place before her very eyes.

"You give the best gifts," she said a moment later, in between a few more stolen kisses.

"Well, you set the bar high with the book you gave me my last birthday," he pointed out. "Had to give it my best shot."

"You succeeded," she giggled, kissing him again. "Like, _really_ succeeded. I'm not sure you can ever top this one."

"Well," he responded cheekily, "guess we'll find out next year."

* * *

Less than an hour later, the party began. Or as most of the male attendants would remember it, Operation Look the Hostess in the Eye and Not at Her Chest. Each man found varying degrees of success with said operation, but Summer didn't hold it against them.

Summer, being overjoyed following Bucky's unexpected gift, was incredibly excited and happy to get the party started. Every person that she invited to the party showed up dressed in their best, and the penthouse of Stark Tower - Avengers Tower, more accurately - quickly became alight with one of the smallest but best parties Summer had ever thrown.

The kids were invited, too. David wore a little black suit that he looked adorable in while also matching his father, and Summer dressed Adelaide up in a black and silver tutu dress with a matching oversized hair bow. They were both cute enough to melt even the most stubborn of hearts, and they also happened to look like little miniature versions of their parents.

Tony arrived with Pepper in tow, both of them wholeheartedly approving of the simple but elegant decorations that Summer had added to the penthouse. Then there was Steve and Natasha, both in understated but classy matching attire that made them fit the scene perfectly, Steve in a black suit and red tie that matched Natasha's deep red floor-length gown. Esteban and Nicolo also came, of course, both looking as stylish and enviable as they ever did, and in fact, most of the folks in attendance were couples - Sam and Darcy, Wanda and Vision (who were still only recently using the "couple" label) and even Clint and a mystery woman whom Summer had never seen before.

"Hi!" Summer cheerfully greeted the archer and his date when they arrived, having no idea who the pretty brunette was. "Thank you so much for coming!"

"No, thank you. I never miss a chance to drain Tony's liquor cabinet for free," Clint grinned. "This is Laura, my wife."

At that moment, Summer and Bucky both widened their eyes to almost comical levels. "Wow, hi," Summer smiled at the woman, who she had never seen before in her life. "You're... did you say _wife_?!"

"We got married last year," Clint explained. "Kept it a secret for safety reasons."

"It's really nice to finally meet the two of you," Laura said. "I've heard so much about you both. All really great things, too."

"Wow," Bucky marveled, eyes flickering between Clint and his apparent wife. "This is crazy. How long did you two date?"

"Couple years," Clint shrugged.

Then Summer gasped. "Wait!" She looked at Laura and added, "You're the mystery girlfriend! I didn't think you actually existed, but you do!"

When Laura appeared understandably confused by that statement, Bucky explained, "Every time we'd go to the farm we'd see or hear some kind of reference to a woman in his life, but since there was never any evidence, we figured he was making it up."

"Yeah," Clint rolled his eyes, "because no beautiful woman could ever be attracted to me."

"Well, obviously that's not true," Summer smiled. "_Wow_! This is so cool! I'm so glad you came!"

"Me too," Laura replied. "And congratulations on the verdict, guys. That trial was just... unbelievable. I'm so sorry you both had to endure it."

"Thanks," Bucky nodded graciously. "We're just glad it's over."

"There's a lot of people who's still gonna want to see you burn, man," Clint told Bucky. "And people just get crazier and crazier these days. You better be careful out there."

"I will be," Bucky assured him. Then he quirked an eyebrow and said with a playful hint of sarcasm, "I didn't know you cared."

Clint rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. So where's the little monsters?"

Summer turned and, after a quick scan of the room, located the kids near Wanda and Vision. "Right over there." Then she gasped and exclaimed, "Oh my God! You don't know!"

"Don't know what? That you're pregnant again?" Clint joked.

"... Actually, yeah," Summer giggled, face going red.

Clint paused and Laura let out a happy laugh. "Wait. You're actually pregnant again? Dammit, Barnes, are you trying to turn her into a baby farm or what?"

Bucky chuckled and Summer shook her head. "No, no, it was a big surprise. A _huge_ surprise. Literally came out of nowhere and I found out while the trial was still going on, so it was stressful, to say the least."

"Oh my God," Laura said. "You guys really have been through the ringer, haven't you?"

"More like... ten ringers," Summer chuckled.

"Well damn," Clint said. "Guess you'd better start stocking up on diapers again." Then he glanced across the room and added, "Hey, we'll catch back up with you guys in a little bit. Nat's been giving me the stink eye for the last three minutes and I'd rather not get on her bad side."

Summer laughed and bade them farewell for the time being, still hardly able to believe that the guy had been secretly married for an entire _year_. "Wow," she said after they'd walked away. "That's so weird. Clint's married. Why is it so weird that he's _married_?"

"Because he's Clint," Bucky replied dryly.

Summer considered that, then glanced back towards the main entrance and felt her excitement bubble up anew when she realized that more guests had arrived while she hadn't been paying attention. Foggy was there, looking around with an utterly starstruck expression on his face even though he really should have been used to keeping super-powered company now, and behind him was Matt and... someone Summer had never seen before.

"... Is he secretly married too?" Bucky wondered out loud.

"I don't know," Summer replied, staring unabashedly as his companion, "But she's _extremely_ hot."

On Matt's arm was a beautiful woman with a literal _mane_ of wild, bright red curls and blue eyes that stood out from all the way across the room. She wore a floor-length sleeveless deep green gown that shimmered under the soft lights, and as if she didn't stand out enough, there was a thigh-high slit on her gown that made her even more impossible to overlook. They were speaking to each other quietly, and then Matt placed a soft, sweet kiss on her lips that was so cute it was swoon-worthy.

Bucky glanced at Summer and found her still staring at the woman in a way that made him grin and ask, "You okay?"

She snapped her mouth shut when she realized it had been hanging open and muttered, "Do you ever like... see a really hot guy and think _whoa, man, I could be super gay for that_?"

"... Not really, no."

Summer gave him a skeptical look. "Never?"

"Hasn't happened yet," Bucky shrugged.

"... Well then never mind, you wouldn't understand."

Summer then steered herself and Bucky their way, happily greeting Foggy first as he was closest to them. "Hey!" Summer smiled, going in for the hug almost immediately. "Thank you so much for coming!"

"Oh yeah," Foggy said after they pulled away, a big smile on his face. "I never say no to free food or big celebrity parties. Especially since I've never been invited to a big celebrity party before." Then his eyes drifted downwards for exactly one second before immediately shooting back up as he smiled nervously. "Okay. Eye contact. Eye contact is a necessity."

Summer laughed. "Oh, it's okay. Really. They're just kinda... out there, so..."

"Yeah, but getting decked by a metal fist isn't really on my list of things I want to experience, so... thank you again for inviting us, and I will just be over here by the bar," Foggy smiled, giving them a slightly awkward thumbs-up before making his escape.

"Smart man," Bucky mused.

Then it was time to greet Matt and meet his super hot girlfriend, which Summer was incredibly eager to do. It showed on her face as she let out an almost too-exuberant "_Hi_!" and nearly swooned at how unfairly pretty the couple was. "Thank you guys so much for coming! And Matt, who in the world is this stunning creature that you brought?"

Matt chuckled, looking sharp and relaxed in a well-tailored gray suit and not a hair out of place on his head. "This is Siobhan, my girlfriend."

"Oh my gosh, _hi_," Summer beamed, reaching out to shake the woman's hand. "It's so good to meet you! You're gorgeous! Wow! I love your hair! And I'm rambling, I'm so sorry, it's just... _wow_!"

Siobhan laughed. "It's okay! Thank you so much. I've been dying to meet you both _forever_."

She shook Bucky's hand next, no fear or apprehension in her eyes, surely a result of Matt assuring her that his client wasn't the unstable violent criminal that the media liked to paint him as. Then Matt said, "I tried to keep her away from the media circus as much as I could. But this seemed like the right time to finally get to show her off a little."

They made such a gorgeous couple that Summer could hardly stand it. "Definitely! _Wow_. How'd you two meet?"

"Law school, actually," Siobhan replied with a bit of a laugh.

"Oh, so you're a lawyer, too?"

"Nope," Siobhan smiled. "I dropped out to go to med school. I'm a psychiatrist. And the family disappointment."

"_You_? Someone should have a long talk with your family, then," Summer laughed, and just then, Adelaide came sprinting over with a huge smile on her face. She'd had the biggest of baby-crushes on Matt since the first day she had ever seen him, and as evidenced by the way that she ran up to Matt and giggled through a big cheesy smile, the crush was still alive and well.

Handing his walking stick to Siobhan to hold in her free hand, Matt grinned and leaned down to scoop the little girl up into his arms. "_There_ she is. Can't ever slip past you, can I?"

Adelaide giggled and started playing with his tie, and Siobhan looked on with both surprise and clear affection in her eyes. Summer grinned and explained, "My daughter fell in love with him at first sight. Seriously, since day one, she just turns into a big pile of giggles whenever he's around."

"And meanwhile Tony still can't even get a smile out of her," Bucky chuckled.

Then, as the adults continued to chat, a somewhat bored David wandered over to his parents, trying to find something to do. He went to Bucky's side and glanced up at Siobhan, then widened his eyes and stared for far longer than he realized. She glanced at him when she noticed and then smiled at him, at which point his eyes grew even bigger and he took a very deliberate step backwards.

Bucky glanced down at the boy in confusion for a moment before he realized what was happening. He tried not grin and glanced at Siobhan, who was trying not to look at David and further embarrass him. She smiled a little and Bucky silently chuckled.

David, at the ripe old age of _almost_ 11, had apparently just discovered that girls were not _all_ icky, courtesy of Matt Murdock's girlfriend. It was a rather huge milestone in his young life.

Within the next few minutes, Darcy wandered over with Sam in tow, dressed in a low-cut stunning dress of her own and toting a full glass of champagne in her free hand. "Dude," she said, "for a party with like 12 people here, this isn't bad." Then she glanced at Matt and Siobhan and, eyes lingering on the latter, she said, "Oh my God, Summer. You didn't tell me you invited a Disney princess. Matt, you're dating Merida?"

David's eyes grew even bigger. She really _was_ a real life Merida. And he loved _Brave_. A lot.

Summer gasped. "Oh my God, you're right."

"See, usually people call me Merida to be annoying," Siobhan smiled, "but since you mean it in a good way, I'll take it."

"Awesome," Darcy smiled. "I'm Darcy, by the way. I'm kind of like... general assistant... person to the Avengers. Very vague job description, but you know how it is. Oh, and I'm dating this guy." She gestured back to Sam, who nodded and gave Siobhan a charming smile. "Would you like a tour of the place? Or at least like... this penthouse?"

"I... sure!" Siobhan chuckled.

"Awesome. Oh and Summer, _holy crap_," Darcy added as an afterthought, reaching out and poking at Summer's very visible and significant cleavage through her dress. "Are you kidding me with this? I'm distracted and I'm like, at least 70% straight. How are you not losing your mind?" she asked Bucky, who chuckled in response.

"I am. I just hide it well," he replied.

"Yeah, I'd say so. Now come on, Merida. Let's show you around."

With Siobahn having been stolen away, David could finally (mostly) breathe again. He leaned forward and watched her go, and while Summer chatted with Matt about the rumors that he and Foggy were going to be on the next _Time_ cover - they were, he confirmed - Bucky gave David's shoulder a pat and said, "She's a pretty lady, huh?"

David looked up with sheer panic in his eyes and shook his head. He even blushed a little, and he looked so much like his mother in that moment that Bucky found him even more adorable than usual. "It's okay, you know. You don't need to be embarrassed. Guess what?" He leaned down closer to the boy, and David listened with a mixture of curiosity and embarrassment. "I started liking girls around your age, too."

David again shook his head, signing definitely to the negative regarding his feelings towards the opposite sex, and Bucky simply chuckled and mussed his hair. "It's all right. Like I said, nothing to be embarrassed about. And they're not as scary as they look." He paused, glancing across the room towards Natasha. "Well, most of them."

Meanwhile, Adelaide had successfully ripped off Matt's reflective glasses from his face and was chewing on one end of them. Summer was trying to pry them away from her when Tony walked by, took note of how cozy Adelaide was with Matt, and then declared, "You know, Cupcake, this next kid of yours better actually like me."

"I'll do my best to instill a deep love for all things Tony Stark," Summer chuckled in reply, finally getting the glasses out of Adelaide's little hands.

"Next kid?" Matt asked curiously.

"I'm pregnant," Summer admitted quietly, putting the glasses back in Matt's hand. "I've known for awhile, but I was keeping it quiet until the verdict."

"_Wow_," Matt replied with a small smile, slipping the glasses back on over his eyes. "Well, congratulations. Guess that's one way to make a fresh start, right?"

She smiled and nodded, Bucky rejoining the conversation and agreeing, "Yeah. No cleaner slate than a newborn baby."

"I hope you guys keep in touch," Matt told them both while Adelaide started trying to grab his nose. "Anything Foggy and I can ever help with, we're only a phone call away."

"Well, that phone of yours is gonna be pretty busy for a _long_ time," Summer pointed out. "You guys are pretty much the most famous lawyers in the world now."

"Yeah... at least now we should be able to pay the electric bill at the office," Matt joked.

Summer laughed quietly. "Electricity is a very good thing to have. But yeah, we'll keep in touch for sure. And you and Foggy will have to meet the new baby whenever he or she gets here."

"Absolutely," Matt nodded. Then he inclined his head in Bucky's direction and added, "I'd invite you guys over to my neck of the woods, but... you've never liked Hell's Kitchen much anyway. Right, Barnes?"

Matt then grinned slightly, and Bucky stared at him in what looked to Summer like slight confusion and then sudden understanding. And she had no idea why.

"Right," Bucky nodded, those seemingly innocuous words bringing a memory from his last birthday to the forefront of his mind. He had gotten up before dawn and hit the streets, looking for a criminal or two to beat up and leave for the cops when he tracked a rapist to Hell's Kitchen. There he had met a masked vigilante who didn't exactly roll out the welcome mat for a fellow crime-fighter, and Bucky had conceded the brief scuffle with a flippant remark of _I never liked Hell's Kitchen much anyway_. He had never managed to pinpoint the vigilante's identity, although he did piece together that he was known as the Devil of Hell's Kitchen or, in less of a mouthful, _Daredevil_.

There had been more than one occasion where Bucky noticed odd things about Matt, from his footsteps that were so quiet they rivaled those of Natasha, and his ability to catch something being thrown at his face with impeccably quick reflexes and zero vision to help him. He had been far too distracted before during the trial to think on any of it for very long, but now that his mind was clearer and he able to better contemplate it all...

The sound of a sudden crack of the thunder and the entire building trembling in response broke Bucky's train of thought. Everybody froze and looked up, and Summer was the first to break out into a smile and exclaim, "Thor!"

Then she looked at Bucky excitedly and ran outside to meet him, heels and all, with David in pursuit with her. Bucky chuckled and watched her go, then glanced at Matt and said, "So... you're..."

"I still work alone," Matt replied as a way of confirmation. "Or at least I prefer to. But... I just wanted to let you know that if you ever need it, you've got someone else looking out for you guys." Then he grinned. "So to speak, anyway."

Grinning back, Bucky reached out and shook Matt's hand. "Thanks. And if you ever need some help..."

"I've got your number," Matt replied.

Meanwhile, outside on the terrace, a beam of rainbow-hued light faded away and left a blonde-haired Asgardian royal standing in its wake. Summer and David both came to a halt at that point, both smiling hugely as Thor looked around and then found them standing before him.

"Did I miss the party?" he asked with a smile, strolling towards them.

"Nope!" Summer chirped, all but running to him. "A party never starts until you show up."

Thor laughed and then scooped her up in a hug, doing the same with David after, and once all the hugs had been gotten out of the way, Thor told Summer, "Heimdall told me the good news."

Summer paused and widened her eyes. "... He told you I'm pregnant? How closely does he watch me?"

Thor furrowed his brows. "Pregnant? No... I meant the verdict." Then he flashed her a smile. "But congratulations! Even more wonderful news!"

"_Oh_," Summer laughed, briefly facepalming in slight embarrassment. "Right! Duh. Well, now you know _all_ my news."

"I'm very glad to see how well everything has turned out," he said, slowly walking with her towards the penthouse entrance. "I was very worried for you and your family. It is a terrible ordeal you were put through. I'm sorry I wasn't there more often to lend my support."

"It's fine," she assured him. "Seriously, it is. You've got your own... Asgard... things to deal with. And just knowing that we had your support made a difference, it really did."

He smiled brightly at her, the human - well, Asgardian - sunshine that he was, and replied, "You and your family will always have my support, I can give you my word on that. And while I'm happy to hear that the family will be expanded, now you can't enjoy the gift I brought."

"What gift?"

He then produced a small flask out of seemingly thin air and said, "The finest aged whiskey that one will ever experience. Of course, we don't call it _whiskey_ on Asgard, but it's the closest thing to what humans will recognize."

She made a low noise of desire in her throat and gazed at the flask wistfully. "Aw, man. No fair."

"It is very potent," he told her. "I'm not sure that you should even smell it, in your state."

"Fine," she sighed. Then her eyes suddenly widened. "Oh! Speaking of my _state_, is there any chance of me getting more of that... super awesome labor potion? Because it worked perfectly last time and I would really like to have another completely painless labor again. It totally beats horrible mind-numbing misery."

"Of course!" he smiled. "I will have my friend brew a new batch just for you, perhaps a larger stock this time, considering how blessed you are when it comes to fertility."

"That would be great!" Summer replied excitedly. "And by _friend_, do you mean... you know. Your brother's..."

"Yes," Thor smiled back. "You know, one day you truly must come to Asgard for a visit. There are quite a few people who are very eager to meet you."

"_Me_?" Summer asked, hardly able to believe that. "Really?"

"Of course! My constant talk of my human friends has both somewhat annoyed and fascinated my friends back home," he chuckled. "One day, when the time is right, I will formally invite you and the others for a visit."

"That... would be... beyond amazing," she said, nearly tingling with excitement just at the very thought. "Oh my God. Just... name the day and I'll be there."

Thor chuckled and agreed, and then they headed inside the penthouse. The arrival of Thor was a surefire way to bolster a party, and this time was no exception. It was also a jaw-dropping moment for Siobahn, who was dragged over to Thor by Darcy and immediately introduced. The blush on her cheeks when he kissed her hand in greeting was nearly as vibrant as the red of her hair, but of course, Thor tended to have that effect on _everyone_.

Paul and his big, happy family arrived awhile later, their lateness a common theme whenever they had to pack everybody up and move from point A to point B, and Summer decided that having a bunch of kids at an otherwise adult party wasn't bad at all. It was nice to see all the kids in her family together, and they all devoured the cake pops and treats that she'd had delivered specifically for them prior to the party. Meanwhile, the adults flocked around Thor trying their best to get a taste of his stash of Asgardian whiskey.

"I've warned you people before," Thor said as he poured a bit in Steve's drink, "these spirits are not meant for mortal men."

"Yeah, yeah, keep it flowing, Blondie," Tony said, impatiently holding out his own glass. "I just grew ten new gray hairs waiting for you to top me off."

Thor sighed and obliged, eyeing Pepper as he said, "I apologize in advance, Lady Pepper."

She shrugged. "I'm used to it."

Drink now in hand, Tony gave his thanks and then whirled around, making a beeline for Bucky. He was talking to Natasha and Sam, and he barely looked up when Tony whizzed by and shoved the drink in his hand with a slightly sing-song, "Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah!"

Bucky looked down at the drink suddenly in his hand and then turned his head to watch Tony wander off elsewhere, already halfway across the room. He furrowed his brows and sniffed at the drink, then glanced at Natasha and Sam before shrugging and downing half of it in one gulp.

Meanwhile, as Thor doled out the super-powered whiskey, Summer ended up grabbing a rather sadly sober ginger ale from the bar and then joining Darcy, Siobhan, Nicolo, and Esteban as they all admired their current company.

"Seriously, look at him," Darcy said as she shamelessly ogled Thor. She glanced at Siobhan and asked, "Are you looking?"

"I'm looking," Siobhan confirmed.

"He's just... yeah," Darcy sighed. "But anyway. So I've gotta ask. You and Matt."

Siobhan smiled. "Yes?"

Darcy nodded and raised an eyebrow. "He's hot."

Estsban almost choked on his drink in an effort to agree with Darcy as quickly as he possibly could. "So hot."

"I bet he's good at things. You know. Stuff. And things," Darcy said, giving an exaggerated wink.

Siobhan smiled and took a nonchalant sip of the champagne in her hand. "I definitely can't complain."

"He's so sweet," Summer added, sipping her ginger ale. "Like... seriously, I didn't used to think that guys like that even existed. Do we have all the good guys left in the world crammed into this room, right now?"

Nicolo's eyes widened. "We might."

Vision then flew around the room with no less than four kids hanging on to him, all giggling and squealing with glee, and Darcy said, "That also includes the artificial men, too, I guess."

"... What _is_ he, exactly?" Siobhan asked.

"He is some kind of mixture of Tony's old AI JARVIS and a mind gem, whatever the heck that is, and he's made of vibranium... skin," Summer replied. "He can grow capes on demand and walk through walls and... yeah. And he's _very_ sweet. He loves kids. And he wears sweaters sometimes."

"And him and Wanda are a thing," Darcy added. As if to solidify her point, when Vision whooshed past Wanda, he reached out a hand to her hair and sent it flying up in the wind. She turned around and smiled at him as he flew off.

"Oh," Siobhan replied. "_Wow_."

"We know what you're thinking," Esteban said. "Does he have a dick?"

Nicolo choked on his drink. "Oh dear God."

"Well, we've all wondered it!" Esteban shrugged. "Is he a vibranium Ken doll or is he all _man_?"

"But if he can just... grow a cape," Summer said, "he could probably... y'know. Make one. If he didn't already have one."

"Dude," Darcy blinked. "Adjustable vibranium dick. AVD."

"And yes, Siobhan, darling," Esteban said, "these are exactly the kind of conversations you hear in this place every day."

Siobhan laughed. "Well, there's probably never a dull moment then, right?"

Just then, as if to confirm as much, Bucky reappeared at Summer's side and slammed his now-empty glass down on the bar. Then he grabbed Summer by her waist and smiled at the others, telling them, "Excuse us."

Then, before she could fully process what was even happening, Bucky had steered them into the nearest storage closet and slammed the door shut behind them. He flipped on the light and gently pushed Summer up against the wall, looking at her with a ravenous gleam in his eye as she looked up at him in a slight daze.

"Bucky, what are you -"

"You're fucking killing me, you know that?" he growled, advancing on her and putting his hands on either side of her head, caging her in.

"... I am?"

"This fucking dress," he groaned, dropping his eyes down over her body. "This is why you wore it, isn't it? You wanted me to lose my fucking mind and drag you off somewhere to get you alone."

Summer grinned and felt her face heat up in a bright blush. "I... well... I might have _hoped_ -"

"You're so beautiful," he groaned, brushing his lips softly across hers, and that was when she smelled the unearthly whiskey on his lips and suddenly understood.

"... Bucky, are you _drunk_?"

He pulled away and shook his head with a grin. "No. I'd probably have to drink four of those flasks to get drunk. But I'm a little tipsy. And it's been so long since I was tipsy, I forgot what a horny bastard it makes me."

Then he kissed her, and Summer giggled into the kiss and pulled him closer. He tasted heavenly, like the literally heavenly whiskey, and she would have been lying if she had said that she didn't thoroughly enjoy him grabbing her and dragging her into this little space just to ravish her. She could feel him hard against her leg already, the poor man, and he was groaning and kissing her so desperately that she could feel how badly he truly needed her. If he was like this just a little tipsy, she could only imagine the trouble they could get up to if he was actually fully _drunk_.

His lips dragging down over her neck and flesh hand delicately running over her very visible breast through her dress, he groaned helplessly, "_God_, I want you. Want you so bad right now, baby..."

She groaned and closed her eyes, one hand in his hair and the other on his shoulder, feeling him grind shamelessly against her. They didn't _exactly_ have time for this, and her dress wasn't the kind that could just be pushed up and out of the way for a quick hook-up in a storage closet, but...

She grabbed his shoulders and turned them around, putting him against the wall instead. He stared at her with that slightly glazed, needy look of his, and Summer reached down to undo his belt as she said, "You can't _have_ me until later, but... I can take the edge off for you, if you want."

"God, please," he murmured, kissing her with a sloppy passion before she carefully dropped down to her knees in front of him. He watched her the whole way down, watched her get his pants far enough down to get them out of the way, and he didn't dare tear his eyes away once her hand was wrapped around him and she was licking her lips in anticipation.

But that all flew out the window once he felt her fully engulf him in the warmth of her mouth. He dropped his head back against the wall and let out a sound that earned him a light slap on the thigh. He understood what it meant - _stay quiet, there's kids out there_.

He did his very best to comply.

Meanwhile, outside, as Siobhan began to wander around in search of a bathroom, she mistook the storage closet as a possible candidate for said restroom. Luckily though, before she could even get her door on the handle, Natasha put a hand on her shoulder and gently guided her away.

"You don't want to go in there, trust me," Natasha smiled.

"Oh. I thought maybe the bathroom might be in there," Siobhan said, glancing back at the storage closet in mild confusion.

"No, it's over to the left and down the hall," Natasha explained. "The only things in _that_ room are spare glasses for Tony's bar and two people who can't make it through one of these parties without hooking up at least once. You'll get used to it."

"Oh," Siobhan chuckled in understanding. "I have to say, this is one of the most interesting parties I've ever been to."

"Well, this is fairly tame for us," Natasha replied. "I think Summer was going for a more wholesome vibe this time around. Which is ironic, considering what she's currently up to."

Then, just in front of them, David walked by with one of his cousins. He looked up at Siobhan, reddened instantly, and then cast his eyes down to the floor and nearly _ran_ away.

Natasha glanced at Siobhan and smirked. "I think you might have just kickstarted puberty for that poor kid."

"I didn't mean to, I swear."

Then, maybe around five minutes later, the door to the storage closet opened and Bucky emerged first. He ran a hand through his hair and walked out nonchalantly, hands in his pockets, ignoring the wearily amused look Natasha shot him from the bar, where she was currently sitting. Then Summer came out next, hair considerably messier than it had been before and cheeks flushed. Her lips might have been a little swollen and redder than before as well, but she hoped nobody would notice.

Bucky wandered off to chat with Steve as Summer took a seat next to Natasha at the bar. Natasha gave her a _look_ and then slid her a new glass of ginger ale.

"Thanks," Summer said quietly, taking the drink innocently.

"Sure. Thought your throat might be a little sore."

Summer choked on the first drink she took, then recovered as quickly as she could and said, "How could you possibly know what we were doing in there? We could have been doing anything!"

"It's pretty obvious when he walks out looking like the picture of relaxation while you're still blushing and incredibly tense," Natasha shrugged.

Summer sighed and eyed her friend wearily. "It's almost creepy how you always know everything. You know that, right?"

"Since I know _everything_, of course I do," Natasha smirked.

Summer chuckled and finished the rest of her drink. They still had a lot of party left to go, and she needed to stay on track.

About an hour later, with the party still thriving and carrying on beautifully, Summer decided that she needed to get something off of her chest. She hadn't planned on giving an impromptu speech, but she ended up standing up on top of the small staircase that led outside to the terrace and getting everyone's attention so she could do exactly that. Public speaking was uniquely horrible for her, but these were her family and friends and they needed to hear what she had to say.

"So..." She smiled and chuckled a bit nervously, holding a glass of water in her hand just to give her hands something to do as she tried to find the right words. "First of all, thank you guys so much - all of you - for coming. Tonight's been amazing and having all my friends and family in the same room for a night, and meeting a few new faces too... I think we all needed this after everything we've had to deal with for the last... how many months was it? I don't even know, but it felt like an eternity."

Glancing down at Bucky, who was standing at the front of the crowd with Addie in his arms, Summer smiled and went on, "We couldn't have won the trial without the support of everybody in this room. All of you played such a huge role, and even if you don't feel like you did, trust me, you did. Whether you helped watch our kids or dealt with the stupid paparazzi outside the building or... literally, everything that each and every one of you did, we wouldn't be here without you. And that goes even more so for the two best lawyers we could have ever found. Matt and Foggy, we owe you a debt that we'll never truly be able to repay. All I can say is thank you, from the bottom of my heart."

If Summer's eyes didn't deceive her, Foggy might have actually choked up a bit from those words. Matt smiled in a way that was just as equally touched, and though Summer felt tears stinging her eyes, she kept going with her off-the-cuff speech.

"You know, not too long ago - it feels like it was yesterday - it was just me and David alone in my grandma's house in Virginia. Life hadn't been very nice to us, so... it was lonely. It wasn't easy, but we made do with what we had. I thought we were gonna be stuck in that house alone forever, honestly, but then one day this... man," she grinned at Bucky, "showed up out of nowhere and changed our lives. And it's because of him that I met all of you, but... now because of all of _you_, me and and my kids don't have to lose him. And I can never, ever, thank you all enough for that."

Now definitely crying a little bit and feeling her heart flutter at the sight of all of all the people that she loved most gathered in front of her, some of them fighting tears of their own, Summer smiled and tried to wrap it up. "Anyway, before my crazy pregnant hormones get the better of me and I start blubbering up here like a baby... again, just... thank you all for coming here tonight, and thank you for everything you've done for us. If I could, I'd name this next baby after all of you, but I don't think they'd forgive me if I did, so... hopefully this speech makes up for that a little bit? I hope?"

Her words sparking laughter among her friends, they then gave her an impromptu round of applause that made her blush and wave them off to try to make them stop. Then she stepped down and found herself mauled by hug after hug from nearly each one of them. She was on such an emotional high from it all and she felt so incredibly _happy_ and loved that it was simply perfect. She had needed that so very badly, and most importantly, she had finally properly thanked everyone and expressed how much they meant to her.

But there was still one thing left to do. Once she was back at Bucky's side, she called Matt and Foggy over and then asked Bucky, "You have the thing?"

He pulled out an envelope from the inner pocket of his jacket and handed it to her. "Of course I have the thing."

She smiled and then turned to Matt and Foggy once they had approached. "So," she said cheerfully, "I still owe you our last payment."

She then handed the envelope to Foggy, who took it and said, "Oh, this could have waited until next week. You didn't have to worry about that right now."

"Well, no time like the present, right?" Summer smiled. "Can you open it and check if it's the right amount?"

"Sure," Foggy nodded, quickly opening the unsealed envelope and pulling the check out. After briefly scanning over the amount listed, his eyes grew to the size of enormous saucers. "Uh... there's... a couple zeros that shouldn't be here..."

Summer smiled at his reaction and explained, "Well see, you guys actually under-charge your clients and while I appreciate that you're in it for the right reasons instead of for greed... you guys gave us the rest of our lives back, and you deserve every penny of that check."

"How much is it?" Matt asked.

"It's... _so... much,_" Foggy said, actual real tears in his eyes as he slapped the check into Matt's hand and proceeded to launch himself at Summer for a huge, almost crushing hug. "Thank you so much. You are amazing. You're a goddess." He then gave her a big kiss on the cheek, making her laugh and squirm, and then because he was just _that_ damn happy, he gave Bucky a hug and a kiss too. Bucky endured it stiffly, rolling his eyes and then wiping off his cheek once it was over.

"Thank you guys so much," Foggy repeated. "You know, I just... I really like being able to eat and keep the water running in my apartment, and with this, I'll be able to do that _and_ we can actually afford a decent working office. And better advertising. And better everything. I love you."

Then he hugged Summer _again_, and she smiled at an equally grateful Matt over his shoulder. "Well, like I said, we'll never be able to really repay you, but... I figure this will at least help, right?"

"It helps _so much_," Foggy gushed, pulling away. "I'm sorry. I think I have to go sit down and cry for awhile. Maybe call my mom. Yeah, I'm definitely gonna call my mom."

Summer laughed as he walked away, fishing out his cell phone to indeed call his mother. Matt chuckled and ran his thumb over the dollar amount on the check - unbeknownst to Summer, he could feel the imprint of the ink on the paper and thus read the amount - and he told her quietly, "You didn't have to do this. But _thank you._"

"I guess just... consider it an investment," Summer smiled. "And the only return that I need is knowing that you guys stay who you are and keep helping people that nobody else will."

"This will definitely make doing that a lot easier," Matt replied.

"Then it was worth it," Summer beamed. And then, because she just couldn't help herself, she pulled Matt into a hug and thanked him for his help for the thousandth time. Then, after another moment or two had passed, she asked, "Hey, where did Siobhan go? I haven't seen her in awhile."

Bucky glanced around the room and then paused, eyes widening in surprise before his lips curled up into a grin. "She's dancing with someone."

Bucky pointed in the right direction, and Summer then saw a sight she'd never forget. Siobhan was dancing with David, or at least trying to while he followed her lead a bit stiffly and with a face the color of her hair.

"... Your girlfriend is dancing with my son," Summer grinned to Matt, wishing that he could see for himself.

He laughed and shook his head. "She can be a bit of a heartbreaker."

Bucky quickly took a picture with his phone, just to make sure that there was evidence of this event that would stand the test of time. Siobhan noticed and smiled at them, giving them a wave, and then when David looked up and realized that they were being watched, he gulped in terror and embarrassment and shuffled around so that he was behind Siobhan and shielded from his parents' sights.

Summer sighed and shook her head. "Man, they grow up fast."

"Yeah," Bucky agreed, sliding an arm around Summer's waist and kissing the side of her head. "Guess we'll just have to keep making more."

She giggled and leaned into his embrace contentedly. "I'm okay with that." She was _more_ than okay with that.

From that point on, the party began to wind down and the kids present started to either get cranky or get sleepy. That included Tony, who got both cranky _and_ sleepy until Pepper took him back to their room for the night. Nicolo and Esteban left soon thereafter, followed by Paul and his entourage. Darcy and Sam also called it a night around the same time Clint and Laura did, and Vision literally flew off somewhere with Wanda in his arms. Foggy hugged Summer _again_ on his way out with Matt, and Siobhan gave David a kiss on his cheek that very nearly made him have a stroke.

Once most everyone was gone, Thor stuck around to catch up more with Steve and Natasha, who claimed they weren't yet tired anyway. That left Bucky and Summer as the last ones to leave, taking their two little ones to bed and turning in for the night.

David was utterly beside himself and wide awake thanks to all the excitement and his life-changing epiphanies, but Adelaide was asleep before her head hit the pillow. And even though Bucky and Summer had earlier made rather detailed _plans_ for the rest of the night, they couldn't quite outlast David, and they ended up passed out for the night long before he managed to stop staring at the ceiling and actually fall asleep as well. It was perhaps not the most exciting end to their night, but that was simply parenthood. And they wouldn't have traded it for the world.

Summer slept through the night with Bucky's left arm draped over her waist and his metal hand resting lightly on her belly. Adelaide slept in her arms, her head pillowed on the crook of Summer's arm, and David ended up falling asleep with his head dangling off the bed - appropriate, considering his world had been turned upside down.

Everything was perfect, and everything was peaceful. No nightmares came to any of them that night, and when the morning came, they all awoke happily and with stubborn smiles on their faces.

It was certainly a life that they could get used to.


	69. Chapter 69

**A/N: HOLY CRAP GUYS. This is the last chapter before the epilogue. ITS ALMOST OVER. We are officially at the end, and I can't believe I actually got this far and got to this point. Seriously, the longest story I've ever managed to actually finish was 25 chapters and like... an eighth of the length of this story lol. I'm just... both sad and relieved that it's coming to an end. But of course, it's not REALLY coming to an end - I've got so much planned still in this "verse", and literally midnightwings96 and I have planned out Bucky and Summer's lives (and their kids' lives) all the way to the end, so this story will DEFINITELY be continued in future sequels, one of which will be heavily hinted at in the epilogue :) So it's not REALLY the end. It's just gonna be a little while before I continue it :) **

**My huge, HUGE thanks to you guys for reading this massive enormous disgustingly long story and sticking with it through all the ups and downs and cliffhangers and almost-character deaths lol, if I could hug and kiss every one of you I totally would. My thanks also to midnightwings96 for helping me to get unstuck on this chapter when I was writing it at a snail's pace and was ready to put my head through a wall, and for being like 3839498484% of the reason why this story is going to actually be completed very very soon. **

**And speaking of that! I'm gonna get started on the epilogue as soon as I possibly can, and my goal is to have it up within the next week. I'm also going to be posting a little surprise at the same time, so keep an eye out for good things to come :D thank you guys again, I love you, and I hope you all enjoy! :D **

_Somewhere in the Caribbean, two months later _

From where Summer was sitting, she was pretty sure that she had the best view in the whole damn world.

Sitting on a white, sandy beach in a two piece bikini that Bucky had specifically picked out for her, Summer sat under the shade of an umbrella on a beach chair with a glass of iced tea in her hand and a smile on her face. The gentle waves rolling on the shore were crystal clear and emerald green, the sky cloudless and bluer than she'd ever seen it, but the single best part of the view was the dripping wet, gloriously mostly naked man emerging from the water and walking her way with a maddening little grin on his face.

Pushing the soaked strands of his growing back on his head, Bucky strutted towards his pregnant wife with all the swagger of someone still in the early stages of a relationship, where wooing was still a thing and they weren't already wrapped around each other's fingers. The look that he shot her made Summer blush and shake her head a little, her eyes tripping over his metal arm shining in the sunlight as water dripped down to the sand from his fingertips. She found it strangely arousing, although to be fair, there weren't that many things he did that she _didn't_ find arousing.

"Enjoy your swim?" Summer asked when he flopped down in the chair next to hers, body still wet and glistening tantalizingly. She made no effort to hide her ogling, since such a thing would be kind of ridiculous considering he had knocked her up twice already and pretty much literally the whole world knew how attractive she found him.

"Yeah," he replied, stealing her drink from her hand and taking a sip. "Would have enjoyed it more with you, though."

She shrugged and glanced towards the ocean. "Well... I'm not that big on swimming on the ocean, and especially since there's a little person in my belly, I would just... prefer to stay here in the sand."

Reaching out and running his right hand affectionately over her belly - quite round and noticeable these days, but still on the smaller side at just over 4 months pregnant - Bucky replied, "Yeah, but we came all this way for a second honeymoon, and it kinda seems like a waste if you don't even fully enjoy it."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Trust me, I _am_ fully enjoying it. I don't have to risk getting stung by an evil jellyfish to fully enjoy myself."

Bucky sighed, watching his fingertips trace her skin. "I'd kill any jellyfish that tried to sting you. Just... punch it in the face," he said, holding up his metal fist with a humorous smirk.

"... I don't think they have faces," Summer giggled. "By the way, how the heck can you get that arm in the water and not damage it? I've always wondered about that. Like how come if I drop my phone into the water I'm screwed, but your arm can get dunked in the ocean and be fine?"

He shrugged, glancing at the limb. "I don't know. Tony explained it one time, but I can't remember the specifics."

Summer silently considered that for a moment before another memory of hers was jogged. "Oh! So I heard Tony worked on your arm again before we flew out."

"Yeah," Bucky nodded casually. "Just rewired a few things. Threw in a couple upgrades I asked for."

"Yeah? Like what?"

Bucky paused before recalling _that_ particular memory, only a week old and taking place in Tony's lab one late afternoon while Summer had been working and putting the finishing touches on their honeymoon plans.

* * *

_"So... I had a question."_

_Wearing protective glasses and focused entirely on the metal limb that he was tinkering with, Tony absently replied, "No, you won't blow up if you wash down a mouthful of Pop Rocks with Coke." He paused and then added, "Pop Rocks is a carbonated candy that -"_

_"I know what Pop Rocks are," Bucky replied, sitting shirtless next to Tony and watching everything the man did to his arm. "I have two kids."_

_"Right. My bad. So what's the question, Gramps?"_

_Bucky cleared his throat, feeling surprisingly awkward about asking this particular question. He hadn't anticipated feeling this way, usually never feeling awkward about talking about this subject in any scenario with anyone, but... _

_"Well... I was just... wondering about something..."_

_"Yeah, spit it out," Tony said, still not looking up from his work. "Believe it or not, I do have things to do besides maintaining this thing for you free of charge. Do you have any idea how much I could charge you for labor if I wanted to?"_

_"... A lot, I guess, but -"_

_"Like I said, spit it out. We're on the clock here."_

_Bucky sighed and clenched his jaw, deciding to just get it over with. "You know how my arm vibrates?"_

_Tony paused and lifted his eyes up. "Right. One of my happiest accidents, according to your wife."_

_"Yeah. Well, I was just wondering if... maybe... I don't know if this is even possible, but... we're leaving for our second honeymoon next week and I figured it was worth a shot to ask if..."_

_"My God, out with it before I decompose."_

_"Can you make it go faster?" Bucky finally blurted. "Make it... adjustable? Different speeds I can control?"_

_Blinking a few times, Tony took off his glasses and crossed his arms. "Are you asking me to turn your arm into an _actual_ vibrator?"_

_... Was Bucky actually blushing a little? "I..." He swallowed. "Yeah." _

_"... Does this feel as wildly inappropriate to you as it does to me?"_

_Bucky sighed and immediately began backtracking. "Look, just... just forget it. It was just an idea. Forget I even mentioned it."_

_"I didn't say no. All I said was that it's wildly inappropriate, but so is at least half of what I do in general on a daily basis."_

_Bucky blinked, trying to follow Tony's logic. "... So you'll do it?"_

_"For a price," Tony nodded. _

_"Okay. What do you want?"_

_"Never ever having to hear anything about it."_

_Bucky paused. "That's fair."_

_"Even I have my limits. This is just inappropriate enough to make me feel mildly uncomfortable. I mean, Summer _is_ the closest thing I have to a daughter figure in my life."_

_"You don't have to do it if you don't want to."_

_Tony sighed and waved Bucky's words off. "What the hell, right? I've never intentionally made a sex toy before. Maybe I can use this for practice."_

_"... Practice?"_

_Tony shrugged. "I could make Pepper a little... 'me' to keep her company when I'm gone, you know what I mean? An exact replica made of safe, life-like material, and -"_

_Bucky held up his right hand and made a face. "Oh God. Please stop." He had a lot of respect for Pepper and always had. She was a classy lady and she'd always treated him fairly, and she had helped him and Summer in ways that he could never fully repay her for. For those reasons, he most certainly did not want to hear anything more on the matter._

_Tony nodded. "Yeah. All right, so how many speeds usually come with these things?"_

_Bucky shrugged. "I don't know. We've never used a real one."_

_Tony scratched at his jaw in contemplation. "Hmm. Can't say I have a ton of experience either. Maybe we should ask Nat."_

_"Please don't," Bucky groaned, but it was too late - Tony was already texting her. _

_"We need an expert opinion," Tony muttered, hitting the send button while Bucky dragged a hand over his face. "And besides, I bet she's got an entire closet full of unspeakable things. Her and Steve probably play with all kinds of toys. Weird Russian ones. I bet the Soviets were into all kinds of crazy shit."_

_"... Ugh," Bucky muttered, not particularly enjoying this conversation. _

_"Speaking of that, you do realize you could have just gone online and bought a vibrator off Amazon," Tony noted. "You don't have to have your arm do the job."_

_Bucky shook his head. "No, I want it to be my arm."_

_"Of course you do," Tony rolled his eyes. "You owe me for this, Buck-o."_

_Bucky smiled. "Well, what else is new?"_

* * *

"Bucky?"

Blinking out of the somewhat cringe-worthy memory, Bucky looked back to Summer and smiled before shrugging, "Nothing important. Just little things, mostly."

"Oh. Okay," Summer smiled, letting her head fall back against her seat and not noticing the way that Bucky was hiding a grin.

The truth was, he was just waiting for the right moment to show her the new and improved things that his arm could do. He'd endured quite the ordeal to achieve it, including having Natasha arrive and feel his arm as Tony tested the vibrations, telling him when the range of speeds were perfect and treating the entire thing in her usual casual, unflappable way. Bucky had simply sighed and waited for it to be over, and once the deed was done, he began looking for the right moment to try it out.

Back home, sex was rarely a relaxed or slow experience, at least in those days. With the kids fond of sleeping with them at night in their bed and their days quite full, they had to take advantage of opportunities when they came and that usually meant in the mornings during showers or in the afternoon if Adelaide took a nap and David was occupied, then sometimes in the shower _again_ after the kids were passed out for the night. Shower sex was nice and all, but Bucky wanted to properly lay her down and slowly drive her insane with his new _abilities_.

He was determined for tonight to be the night. It was day two of their second honeymoon, and while the first day had been all about exploring their two week long tropical paradise and then sleeping because they could both _finally_ sleep again and it was _amazing_, there was no reason not to treat Summer to her new little gift before the night was through.

He smiled at her as she closed her eyes and enjoyed the warm island breeze, looking so unbelievably beautiful to him that he could hardly stand it. She was wearing a pretty little black and white bikini that he had picked out himself, and he loved it on her. The material was black with white bows near the ties of the bottoms and then another white bow between her breasts on the top, which was structured to provide a bit more of a lift than the average bikini top did. That meant that her breasts looked absolutely perfect sitting above her rounded, growing belly, and her scars on her legs and abdomen being visible didn't put him off in the slightest. He loved seeing her like this, unashamed and free and _all his_ for the next week.

Only a few months ago, Bucky had been convinced that he was going to be separated from Summer forever. Now he was laying on a beach with her, their lives and fates back in their own hands, and _damn_ did it feel good.

The good feelings were mutual. Summer smiled when Bucky tugged her up and out of her chair and pulled her into his lap, kissing her sweetly after she draped an arm over his shoulders and melted against him a little.

"So how are you feeling?" he asked, glancing down at her belly.

"I'm feeling pretty good," she sighed, absently running a hand over the little baby bump. "I think I'm definitely past the puking stage now. And I'm not as tired as I was. I still have a hard time getting out of bed in the morning, but... I don't feel dead tired throughout the whole day now. Especially if I get a nap in."

"Good," he murmured, cool left hand trailing sweetly up and down her back. Eyes trailing over her face and along her whole figure, he grinned, "You _look_ good."

"Are you sure I don't look like I just drink a lot of beer every day?" Summer asked, chuckling when Bucky rolled his eyes.

"Definitely not. You look like a beautiful, sexy woman who happens to be carrying my child," he said, the low tone of his voice and the smirk on his face giving away how much he was into it. "Just makes me want you even more."

"Is that why you keep knocking me up?" She grinned. "Do you have a weird fetish for pregnant ladies?"

"Maybe for _one_ pregnant lady," he teased, kissing the corner of her jaw as she giggled.

"Oooh!" she suddenly exclaimed, grabbing his hand on her belly and moving it a little lower and to the left. "Can you feel that?"

Bucky paused, looking down at his hand and concentrating on trying to feel their baby moving about in Summer's womb. After a moment, he felt a distinct little kick, and he looked up at Summer with a bright smile that made his eyes crinkle. "I felt that."

Summer laughed with joy and looked down at her belly, her hand still on top of Bucky's, and she couldn't help but gush, "It's seriously one of the best feelings ever. It's so sweet. There's nothing else like it in the world."

He kept his eyes on hers, his smile lingering as the joy in her gaze made his own heart swell. Seeing her happy like this was all he had ever wanted for her, and he'd never take it for granted.

"So," she smiled, raising her eyes back to his, "what do you think? Is it a little Jesse or a little Rebecca? We're gonna find out a few days after we get back, and you still haven't made a guess."

He smiled and shook his head. "I just don't know. I really don't. I think it could go either way."

Summer sighed in mock frustration, laying her head down on his shoulder. "I keep thinking boy. I don't know why. It's just a feeling I have. I mean, I had only David for so on and I was so used to having all boy stuff. Sometimes I can still hardly believe that we've got a little girl now, too."

"And she's a _girly_ girl," Bucky added with slightly wide eyes.

"I know," Summer chuckled. "She's gonna be a little diva when she's grown up. Probably gonna be a brat, too."

"She's already stubborn as hell," Bucky noted. "Like her mama."

Summer scoffed, lifting her head back up to look at him in disbelief. "And her daddy! More you than me."

He raised an eyebrow. "I don't know about that, sweetheart."

She rolled her eyes and then placed her palm on his forehead, pretending to feel him for a fever. "I think the island sun is already getting to you. Do you need a drink? Need some water?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "Yeah, I think I do need some water. And so do you."

She had barely a second to look at him quizzically before his grip on her tightened and he suddenly stood up with her in his arms. Just like that, he was marching them towards the water, and Summer immediately started giggling and protesting and trying to wriggle her way out of his grip.

"No! Put me down! Jellyfish! Sharks! Sting rays! Electric eels!" she screeched while laughing, not gaining so much as an inch of freedom as Bucky confidently marched them to the water's edge.

"Don't worry, baby," he told her, stepping into the water and shooting her a smug grin. "Like I said, anything tries to sting you or eat you, I'll punch it in the face."

She pouted, glancing down at the water as it drew ever closer the further he waded into it. "But I don't wanna get wet."

"Oh come on, you love it when I get you wet." He then gently set her down into the water - he would have tossed her had she not been pregnant - and they both laughed as she squealed and promptly splashed him in her pretend-anger.

"You suck!" she exclaimed, barely able to keep up the facade as she smiled and giggled like a moron. "I was happy on the beach, in my chair, and now I'm all... wet."

"Get used to it, sweetheart," he said, leisurely leaning back and swimming around her lazily. "You're probably gonna be wet one way or another this entire week."

She tried her best to appear unamused and then splashed him right in the face. "Yeah? You think so?"

Laughing and squinting as he wiped the water from his eyes, he retorted, "Yeah, I _do_ think so." Then he dove under the surface and the next thing Summer knew, a metal hand was yanking under right under with him. Her laughter rang out before he pulled her down, and then when both of their heads came bobbing back up a few moments later, they were both smiling like crazy and Summer had, unsurprisingly, ended up in his arms.

"I love you, you jerk," Summer smiled, laying a small, wet kiss on his lips.

"I love you too," he chuckled, kissing her back. "Come on. Race me over there."

His head jerked towards a nearby dock, and Summer narrowed her eyes at him. "Really? Race you? _You_?"

"Yeah," he grinned. "I'll give you a head start. Show off that super serum you've got in you."

"Okay, first of all, I have maybe like... _one sixteenth_ of Steve's strength, if that, and -"

"Head start's running out," he teased. "Ten, nine, eight..."

Summer huffed and started swimming. It came as no surprise when, less than a minute later, her super-soldier of a husband went zooming by her and made a joke out of her head start. She was faster than she ever would have been before she was shot and Steve's super-blood saved her, but she was still nowhere near being able to beat Bucky at _anything_ physical.

But that was okay. She had plans as to how to even the playing field in some respects rather soon. Just as Bucky had a few tricks up his sleeve - literally - she did as well, except her surprise was in a tiny bottle hidden in her suitcase.

It was gonna be a fun second honeymoon, that was for sure.

* * *

Later that night, after a dinner spent laughing together and FaceTiming their kids and friends back home, Summer retreated into the bathroom for a brief shower alone as Bucky made himself at home in the adjoining bedroom. He didn't turn on the TV or stare at his phone while he waited for her, instead lingering near the doorway of their balcony and staring out at the beautiful view below.

The island was a private one, frequently visited by celebrities and politicians who wanted absolute privacy. Tony had bought the house they were staying in from an actual king of somewhere a few years back, and just as he had lent them a vacation home during their first honeymoon, he made their second one possible as well. The place was so private and secluded that they could sunbathe naked outside and not have to worry about prying eyes or cameras in the sky, but they hadn't taken advantage of _that_ just yet. They were too busy enjoying reconnecting with no distractions and no interruptions, which was what the little trip was, after all, about.

As Bucky watched the moonlit waves crash on the shore down below, Summer was checking her reflection in the mirror and feeling a silly thrill of nervousness rush through her despite knowing there was no need for it. She was wearing a gift from Natasha, a little piece of surprisingly comfortable maternity lingerie, and as ridiculous as it was to feel nervous about it, she supposed it was a result of having so little time alone with Bucky for so long. This week was starting to feel more like their early days together, and while that _definitely_ wasn't a bad thing, she had to get used to having his undivided attention again.

Taking a deep breath, she turned off the light and walked out of the bathroom. The door clicking shut got Bucky's attention, and Summer could feel herself blush as he turned away from the view outside and let his eyes fall on her.

She smiled and gestured vaguely to herself, feeling incredibly stupid for feeling as suddenly shy as she did. It made no sense. "Present from Nat," she explained as his gaze swept over her, his eyes darkening as he took her in from head to toe.

Her hair was thrown up in a haphazard sort of bun, messy little pieces falling out and framing her face. The only thing she wore was a light blush pink and partially sheer babydoll-style little thing, one that barely skimmed her thighs and draped over her belly prettily and clung to her in all the right ways. It was reminiscent of her wedding night lingerie, only a little more pregnancy-friendly.

"_Fuck_," he grinned slowly, biting his lip and taking his time in soaking her up.

She smiled and felt her blush deepen, grateful for his reaction. Even though he'd been staring at her in a bikini for a large chunk of the day, he wasn't sick of her yet. She could still make him look at her like she was his dessert and he was utterly _starving_.

Rather than walk to her and take her in his arms, he walked to the edge of the King size bed at the center of the room and sat on it. Then he shed his shirt and dropped it on the floor before patting his thigh. "Come here. Come sit on my lap."

She did as she was told, her stubborn smile lingering on her face as she made her way to him. He reached out and took her hand once she was there, pulling her down and helping to steady her as she sat sideways on his lap.

"Look at you," he murmured, right hand settling on her hip as his left slid slowly up between her legs, to just between her knees. "You're so beautiful."

She smiled and ran one of her hands through his hair, which was a few months overdue for a cut, and replied, "I don't know why I felt nervous putting this on, but... I did."

He looked at her in a mixture of surprise and amusement, left hand reaching up to pluck at one of the flimsy straps on her shoulders. "All this time and I still make you nervous?"

She shrugged, shivering a little when the backs of his metal fingers ran over her breast through the thin material covering it. "I don't know. I keep waiting to walk out wearing something like this one of these days and you just laugh at me 'cause I look as ridiculous as I feel."

He sighed and looked her in the eye as his fingers moved back to the strap on her shoulder, this time pulling it down her arm. "Trust me, sweetheart. You could walk in here wearing nothing or an empty potato sack and I'd still wanna fuck you till neither of us can walk."

She was so distracted by his words that she barely noticed that he had tugged down the material more, exposing her breast. "Even in a potato sack?"

"In _anything_," he replied, his cold fingertips sliding on her bare skin and making her jolt a little in surprise. "Although I do prefer _this_ to a potato sack."

She giggled and then his lips were on hers, swallowing up the sweet sound as his gave her breast a gentle squeeze. She could feel herself already throbbing with need - pregnancy hormones were crazy like that - and she moaned when his tongue flicked suggestively against hers. He broke away after the sound left her throat, smirking at her briefly before dropping his head down and holding her breast as he tongue slipped out to torture it. She sighed and tangled her hand in his hair, holding his head closer and arching her back a little as his mouth worked its magic on her.

His lips were drifting down between her breasts when a thought suddenly occurred to her and almost made her giggle. "You know you're gonna have to give these up again soon," she said, Bucky glancing up at her and knowing just what she meant by _these_.

"Feels like I just got 'em back," he chuckled, peeling down her other strap and freeing her other breast. "Guess I gotta enjoy them while I can."

The next thing she knew, Summer was on her back in the middle of the bed and Bucky was on top of her, grinning and keeping his weight off of her stomach as he leaned down and kissed her briefly but passionately. Then he was kissing down her neck, wasting no time in bringing his hands and mouth back to her breasts and wrecking her with _just_ his attention there. He could have achieved this at any time, but being overly sensitive in her current state, it was almost enough to make her lose her mind just from what his fingers and tongue and teeth were doing to her breasts.

Once she had whimpered and writhed enough to let him know how truly badly she needed more, he gave her more. "Which hand do you want?" he asked, peeking up at her with a hint of a devilish look on his face. He was only asking because he knew _exactly_ what her answer would be.

"Metal," she nearly gasped out, and as soon as the words left her lips, his left hand was sliding up her parted thighs and giving her just what she'd asked for.

He groaned as he gently touched her, just a teasing brushing of his fingers as his tongue swirled languidly along her nipple. Summer was almost too far gone to notice how perfectly in sync his movements were, already so close to losing her mind that she jerked at his first touch and rocked up against his hand in search of more friction.

"So impatient," he chuckled, rising back up to kiss her lips as he continued toying with her, not even bypassing her little tiny pair of matching panties just yet. He knew what he was doing, and he knew that once he _really_ got going, she was gonna shoot off like a rocket in hardly any time at all.

She whimpered his name against his lips, clutching at his hair and shoulders and begging him wordlessly for more. He grinned and kissed her again, and when she felt his arm shift and start vibrating, her resulting moan was one of both need and relief.

Having mercy, he finally slid his fingers down the front of her panties and watched her lose her breath at the blessedly direct touch. He bit his lip as he watched her, knowing that she thought that this was it and that she was completely content with that. It only made him even more excited to surprise her with his new _upgrades_.

"You love this, don't you?" he groaned, kissing just under her ear as she gently sunk her nails into his back. "You always want this hand. Always have, since the start."

"It's so hot," she admitted, cheeks blushing with the words. It was nothing she hadn't said before, but she still couldn't help it.

"It's all yours," he chuckled, breathing against her ear. "Just don't come until I tell you too."

She couldn't help but whine. "_Bucky_..."

"Trust me, baby," he murmured, raising his head back up and easing his forehead on hers. "Do what I say."

As if she could ever do anything else but obey. She gave in and tried to control herself, even when his palm pressed deliciously against her and two of his fingers disappeared inside of her, and she realized that she was even more sensitive than she had first thought because it almost felt like the vibrations were stronger than usual. Not that she was complaining - far from it. It was perfect and she was so close already, scratching lasting marks into his skin to keep herself from leaving the ground.

"How's that feel?" he asked just before leaving a filthy kiss on her lips. "Tell me. Is it good?"

"_So good,_" she managed to reply, her body rocking shamelessly on his hand and taking him as deep as she could. "Really... really... _oh my God_." She trailed off with a gasp and her eyes flew open, because he did something with his wrist and _yeah_, the vibration was definitely stronger and there was no mistaking it. She looked at him in sudden alarm. "Bucky, your arm -"

"Yeah, I know," he chuckled, eyes full of delight as he watched her nearly faint from bewilderment and increasingly overwhelming pleasure. "_Surprise_." Then he bumped the speed up again, like he had been gradually doing all along, and she made a noise that was almost his undoing as she dropped her head back and let her mouth fall open in a silent moan.

She was confused and _gone_ and absolutely wrecked, his instrument to play as he pleased as he took her to the edge. He watched her fight it, biting her lip and gasping and writhing and trying to wait for his approval, and eventually it was too much for _him_ to take.

He turned it up again - though not to the highest level possible , which would apparently remain a surprise for another day - and when she arched and shook with her failing self-restraint, he kissed her again and told her the sweetest words she could have heard in that moment. "Let go, sweetheart. You've been so fucking good. Come for me, baby."

The words had barely left his mouth when she was clenching, tightening, seeing stars as she let out a cry that would have disturbed the neighbors if they'd had any. Bucky watched her raptly the entire time, panting a little himself and admiring the way that she trembled and whimpered and gasped for air as she slowly came back to herself. He gently stroked her all the while, the vibration tapering off until it was gone and all that remained was the careful and soothing touch of his hand.

He was busy peppering sweet kisses along her jaw and her neck when she remembered how to speak and properly use words. "Okay," she said shakily, "_what the frick_?"

He chuckled and smiled down at her. "I told you I got some upgrades."

She blinked in disbelief. "Tony did _that_? Why? How? It's... your arm is... it's an actual..."

"Yeah," he grinned, adoring how flustered and confused she was. "I know. I just figured... why not? You loved the light little buzzing thing it used to do, so..."

"It's... perfect," she said a little wide-eyed, "but I just... holy crap. I wasn't expecting it."

"That's usually the idea of a surprise," he teased, kissing her gently again.

"... So you actually asked Tony to turn your arm into a... a real... y'know?"

He nodded, still grinning rather stupidly. "I did."

"That had to be the most awkward conversation ever."

He shrugged, looking down at her mostly-naked body and heaving chest. "Definitely fucking worth it, though."

She giggled and so did he, and the next thing they knew, they were kissing again and the heat between them was returning as quickly as it always did. With his arousal grinding incessantly into her thigh, looking for some relief, Summer pushed him down on his back and slid over him with a smile, settling on his hips as she said, "You know what's awesome about your new upgrade?"

"Enlighten me," he chuckled, running both of his hands over her thighs.

"It'll never run out of batteries right in the middle of things getting good."

He laughed. "Happen to you a lot before?"

She groaned and rolled her eyes. "You have no idea."

It was the last words either of them spoke for quite a while, both of them quickly getting caught up all over again. Summer was clearly _very_ fond of Bucky's little surprise, and now she was even more excited to give him her own little "present". But it had to wait until the right time, and that night wasn't it.

But the time would come soon. And they _definitely_ still managed to enjoy themselves for the rest of the night all the same.

* * *

Two nights later, as Bucky fired up their rental car just outside the house, Summer decided that it was time to initiate her evil, diabolical, deliciously villainous plan.

_Oh yes_, this was finally happening.

Under the guise of needing to run back inside to grab her phone that she had mistakenly (purposefully) left in their room, Summer bounded back in the house and up the stairs in her sleek heels, wearing a silly smile the whole way. Once she got there, she headed not for her phone but for her suitcase, kneeling next to it and quickly unzipping it and reaching into one of the side pockets to retrieve what she was looking for.

Pulling out a small little bottle wrapped in a delicate piece of paper, Summer grinned and took a deep breath. She unrolled the piece of paper and read it for the millionth time, double checking the instructions just in case. After all, Asgardian magic was nothing to take lightly.

Underneath the name of the potion - an unreadable word that looked like it was from a language that didn't even exist in the human world - an elegant scrawl stated, _This is a very potent aphrodisiac traditionally given to newlyweds as a gift to encourage fertility and affection, as oftentimes in our world marriages are arranged and such a potion can benefit both parties tremendously. To my knowledge, a mortal has never used this potion before, so use this with extreme care and restraint, if you choose to use it at all. It is not drunk but rather inhaled, so when you are ready, carefully open this and inhale half a breath's worth. Be sure not to spill it or allow others to smell it, as the results could be disastrous. As soon as you are finished, close the bottle and store it somewhere very safe. Legend states that this very potion triggered the Great War of Nifilheim some millennia ago, so the importance of safety cannot be overstated. With that being said, do enjoy this gift if you choose to use it, and be sure to seek a healer if the effects last longer than four hours. _

Even Asgardian enhancement "drugs" carried four hour warnings, apparently.

The note was then signed _Aemilia_, the name of the woman who Thor said was Loki's significant other and the same woman who gifted Summer the potion that made her labor with Adelaide painless. Summer already trusted the woman completely following that experience, and she decided to be daring as she carefully opened the bottle and took care not to inhale it.

The potion itself was a thin, pale, and shimmery liquid that had a hint of violet in the color of it. Working with extremely cautious and steady hands, Summer dabbed the smallest amount possible on each side of her neck Ike a perfume. She then closed the bottle and wrapped it back up in the piece of paper before placing it in her purse, just in case she needed to refresh it later.

She then stood back up and the motion brought a small gust of the scent up to her nose. It smelled sweet but not too sweet, a little bit floral and a little bit something else that she had no idea how to describe, and a warmth spread from the roots of her hair to the tips of her toes the minute she got a whiff of it. The warmth then all concentrated low in her belly, and she shivered before giggling and realizing just how potent this stuff was. She could only imagine what would happen if she actually inhaled an entire breath of it.

The deed now done, she happily left the bedroom and made her way back down the stairs and out of the house. Hopping in the passenger seat of the sleek little black car Bucky was behind the wheel of, she smiled innocently at Bucky and put on her seatbelt as he asked, "Got your phone?"

She paused and realized that she had not, in fact, grabbed her phone after all. "... I actually forgot again."

"Then what were you doing in there?" He chuckled. "I can run in and get it if you want."

"You know, it's fine," she shrugged, clicking her seatbelt into place. "You have your phone, so we're good. Let's just go. I'm starving."

He grinned and put the car into gear, turning his attention to the driveway before them. "Yes ma'am."

From there, they drove and crossed two bridges into the island's mainland, about twenty minutes passing before they reached the restaurant their dinner reservations were at. In those twenty minutes, Summer continued to faintly smell the potion on herself, feeling its effects on a very mild level that allowed her to hide it very well. Since it wasn't actually a perfume and the scent didn't travel too terribly far, Bucky didn't smell it in the car nor when they arrived at the restaurant and were escorted to one of the more private booths towards the back of the dining room. And that meant that her plan was working perfectly.

They took their seats at the table, Bucky automatically sliding in next to Summer without her having to ask, and when Bucky almost immediately ordered the most expensive entrees on the menu, Summer raised a brow as the waiter hurried off to place their orders.

"Splurging today, huh?" she noted, smiling as Bucky relaxed against the backrest behind them and draped an arm behind her shoulders, grinning at her.

"Yeah, I figure... why not?" he shrugged lightly. He was wearing a black suit with a white shirt underneath, the top two buttons undone and no tie on, and the island humidity had his hair just a _slight_ bit fluffier than usual. She quite liked his current look, and even more, she loved how truly relaxed and _happy_ he was. "Normally I'd also get you the best bottle of wine here, but..."

"... But no drinking for me," she chuckled. "It's okay, though. Totally worth it."

The restaurant wasn't particularly busy, just a handful of other patrons dining in the low lit room. It was a casually romantic atmosphere, relaxed enough to fit with the island feel, and open windows littered throughout the restaurant brought a pleasant salt-scented sea breeze through the air.

It was nice. A bit warm, perhaps, but Summer was fairly sure that was due to the potion she kept faintly smelling on herself.

"You look gorgeous tonight," he told her, looking her over and running his fingertips over her bare shoulder. She smiled and glanced down at her dress, a flowy floral sleeveless thing that ended just above her knees and was exceptionally comfortable while also looking pretty damn good.

"You too," she smiled, earning a slight roll of his eyes. Her heart rate picked up as he leaned down and pressed a small kiss to her shoulder, but the waiter came back with their drinks before he could catch a whiff of what was on her neck.

Darn it.

A few moments of small talk followed, and Summer did her best to hide her growing frustration. She wanted to just grab his head and shove his face into her neck but that wasn't the plan and she wanted to stick to it, even if it was testing her patience. She figured the best way to make him breathe it naturally was to amp up the affection and draw him in, so that was what she did next.

Putting her hand on his knee and laying her head on his shoulder, she closed her eyes and sighed. "I really love this. I'm having a really great time here."

He smiled and kissed her temple. "Me too. I'm glad we did this."

"We haven't even been married five years yet and we're already on our second honeymoon," she chuckled. "Maybe we should make it an annual thing."

"You know, that's not the worst idea I've ever heard," he teased as she lifted her head back up and threw him a grin before reaching out and grabbing her glass of water. "Where would you wanna go next?"

"Hmm," she hummed, setting the glass back down. "I don't know. Maybe... Alaska? Very remote. Or... Paris, if we wanted to go the more cliched route."

"You'd pick Paris just so you could listen to me speak French the whole time," he noted wryly.

"... Guilty," she giggled. "Remember when we went on our first date, and you like... whispered French all seductively in my ear and then didn't tell me what you said for _months_?"

Bucky grinned crookedly and eyed her with amusement as he fondly recalled the memory. "I told you I'd rather see you in nothing but those fuck-me boots you were wearing."

Summer's jaw dropped a little. "I - _excuse me_, those were just normal high heeled leather boots. My sister in law picked them out. They weren't stripper boots."

Bucky shrugged, still wearing that little grin. "Well, to a guy that hadn't seen any action in 70 years, they were fuck-me boots."

Summer sighed and shook her head. "A guy with a high heel fetish who hadn't seen any action in 70 years."

"Exactly. Speaking of that..." He leaned back to catch a glimpse of her heels under the table, and Summer laughed.

"Did you always have a thing for heels?" Summer asked, teasingly running the front of her shoe against his ankle.

"Yeah," he nodded. "But they didn't make them back then the way they do now. And I didn't really notice that until you wore those boots. And your other shoes."

"Oh," she smiled. "So I awakened the sleeping dragon."

"You know you did," he murmured, leaning into the press a gentle kiss to her lips.

She smiled sweetly at him before suddenly remembering her evil plan. Putting one hand in his hair, she kissed the corner of his mouth and then dropped little kisses along his jaw, subtly moving his face towards her neck. He took the bait, skimming his nose along the underside of her jaw before nuzzling her neck. Summer grinned and bit her lip as she awaited success.

She felt him pause with his face pressed gently to her neck, his nose touching the same spot she had dabbed the potion on. Then he breathed deeply, a full and heavy inhale that that she hadn't anticipated, and then he drew away slowly.

She looked at him and felt her heart skip a beat. His eyes were dark and dilated, cheeks a little flushed, and his lips were parted prettily as he stared at her. The effect had been instant and, it seemed, significant.

"Bucky?" she smiled, watching his expression become equal parts aroused and bewildered. "You okay?"

"Y-yeah, I just... I'm..." He shifted a little bit and forced himself to look away only to immediately look back, eyes more than a little wild-looking. "I'm... I'm fine."

He then began staring at his glass of water, brows knit together in pure confusion, and Summer couldn't help but grin as she placed her hand on his thigh and asked sweetly, "Are you sure? You look kind of flushed."

He jumped a little at her touch, turning his head and looking her in the eye as she draped an arm over his shoulders and slid her hand into the back of his hair. Her hand on his thigh gently pressed inward, just a little bit, and he breathed through parted lips as he stared at her like he suddenly wanted nothing more than to have _her_ for dinner.

"You're so tense all of a sudden," Summer said, using all of her willpower to maintain a straight face. "What's the matter?"

Bucky opened his mouth to answer, but then her hand creeped closer up his thigh and he suddenly pulled her head closer and kissed the hell out of her in lieu of speaking. She smiled into the kiss, gently pushing him away once he started to get a little carried away, carefully reminding him, "Hey, calm down. We're in public."

"I know, I'm sorry," he panted slightly, brows furrowing again. "I don't know why I'm..." He glanced down at his lap and hissed out a curse before shifting a bit and pulling away from her. Summer kept her hand on his thigh and stifled a smile, turning her head and biting her lip so he wouldn't see.

She turned back towards him once he started bouncing his leg slightly, his right hand curled into a fist next to his lap. Just that one little whiff of the stuff had _really_ gotten to him, and she couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy for him. It was affecting her too, only on a much smaller scale.

She was about to open her mouth and suggest they simply get their food to go when the waiter came back with their entrees, sizzling hot and heavenly smelling and worth every penny Bucky spent on them. Or at least they _would_ have been had either one of them been able to focus on actually eating food as opposed to what their _other_ appetites were demanding.

Bucky did his very best to remain calm and concentrate on dinner, approaching each bite of food like it was a mission that he had to complete or else dire consequences would follow. Summer, for her part, watched him with a tiny and unstoppable smile on her face, having an easier time eating her own meal and attempting to make small talk along the way. Bucky only replied with one word answers, jumping every time she just barely touched him or made eye contact, and she could tell what the napkin in his lap was hiding and how utterly confused by it he was.

Once she was full and he had still barely taken five bites, she decided that since she had gotten him into this mess... the least she could do was help him get through it rather than suffer alone and helpless.

"Not hungry?" she asked, shifting closer to him and running her hand along his left forearm. He stiffened at her touch, but she had expected that.

"Not really," he muttered, giving up the pretense and setting down his fork next to his plate. He then closed his eyes and shivered when she lightly ran her fingers through his hair, leaning into the touch like an affection-starved cat, and Summer was simply aflutter with glee.

She leaned in closer, dragging her lips gently along his jaw until she reached his ear. He almost moaned when she lightly nipped at his ear lobe and whispered, "Do you... maybe... need a hand?"

He grasped the napkin on his lap and held it in a death grip when she tried to pull it away. "Don't," he said through gritted teeth. He turned towards her, eyes cast down to her lips as he shook his head. "I'm fine."

"No you're not," she noted with amusement. "I think I know you well enough now to be able to tell when you're... in need of something."

He opened his mouth to protest only to barely contain a gasp when she simply rubbed her hand over him through the napkin. The touch felt like fire, as indirect as it was, and while the table and its floor-length tablecloth concealed them from any potential prying eyes, Bucky still put his hand over here and stopped her. "Not here," he hissed under his breath. "I can wait."

She nodded, looking him over and obediently pulling her hand back, dragging her palm slowly over his thigh in the process. "All right. I'm sure you can." He took a deep breath, turning back to his plate with that look of determination again, only to lose it in an instant when she casually added, "But I can't."

His eyes flew to hers, and she shot him what she hoped was a devilish little smirk before glancing around to make sure the coast was clear. Once she was satisfied that they were safe, she quietly slipped under the table as Bucky watched her with wide eyes and an open mouth.

Just the very suggestion of what she was apparently about to do made him twitch in his pants and nearly lose it. He looked around a bit frantically as she got down on her knees and parted his legs with her hands, looking down at her and whispering harshly, "_Summer, what the fuck are you - are you sure about this? We're... fuck._"

Grinning up at him as she slid her hands up his inner thighs, she whispered back, "Don't look down at me. Keep you eyes up and nobody will suspect anything." Then as she reached up and unzipped his pants, she added as an afterthought, "And stay quiet."

That was his last warning before she pulled him free and wrapped her hand around him, his breath hitching and hips jerking just from that one touch. He moved as close to the edge of his seat as he could, opening his legs a little wider for her and leaning his arm on the table to rest his jaw on his hand and try to appear somewhat casual and normal. His eyes fluttered shut when she gave him a few easy strokes, feeling absolutely _exquisite_ thanks to the abnormal amount of arousal coursing through his veins, but it was nothing compared to what he felt when her warm little tongue flicked out and teasingly circled his tip.

He reached down with his free hand - his left, disguised as flesh and blood - and grasped her shoulder as she kept teasing him almost mercilessly. He just barely managed to keep silent, staring sightlessly at his mostly untouched plate of food and then closing his eyes and gasping muffled into his hand when she _finally_ took him fully into her mouth.

Summer, with her free hand on his upper thigh, could feel him tense and strain as she gently and slowly dragged her wet lips up and down his length. His hand on her shoulder tightened and dug harder into her flesh as his pleasure grew, and the filthiness of doing this _entirely_ in public coupled with knowing just how hard it was for Bucky to keep quiet even during even their normal times together made Summer utterly adore every last minute of it.

Then Bucky heard a voice to his left, and his eyes flew up to find the waiter standing there smiling and asking how everything was tasting. Summer heard the question and nearly choked, for several reasons.

"Great," Bucky answered, his voice coming out a little too high pitched at first as he squeezed Summer's shoulder in a panicked attempt to make her stop. She didn't. "Everything's great, thanks."

"Awesome, can I bring you a dessert menu in a few minutes?"

Summer decided in that moment to relax her throat and take him _all_ the way in, until he bumped the back of her throat. She hadn't always been able to do that, but with five years of practice under her belt, it was surprisingly easy now. And it was something that _always_ made him groan and drove him wild.

"No," he replied shakily before clearing his throat, hand now clenching hard in her hair but not pulling her off. She could feel him trembling, feel how close he was and how difficult it must have been to maintain his cool. "No, that's okay."

"All right, well, let me know if you guys need anything," the waiter said before _finally_ turning and leaving. As soon as he was out of Bucky's line of sight, his eyes rolled shut and he cursed out a string of whimpered _fuck's_ and covered his mouth with his hand, just in case he wasn't able to keep fully quiet once the orgasm charging towards him like a runaway train overtook him.

She gave her jaw the workout of its life, holding nothing back and taking him so deep and fast her lungs burned from the harsh breaths she took through her nose. She knew what it meant when he tapped the back of her head suddenly, her warning that he couldn't take any more, and she responded by going even faster and semi-accidentally letting out a hungry whimper that did the trick of set him off and spilling down her throat. He kept his hand over his mouth as his release overcame him and made him see stars, his eyes squeezed shut and his teeth biting hard enough into his middle finger that clear imprints were left in his skin and lasted for awhile.

He opened his eyes as soon as he could, panting into his hand as the waves of pleasure subsided and his wife's mouth gently and carefully withdrew from him. He made sure that nobody had seen him or been watching, and to his relief, the coast was still clear. He leaned back and looked under the table and nearly groaned at the sight that he was graced with - Summer, blushing and grinning, wiping the corner of her mouth with her thumb and then slipping it in her mouth to suck off the last remaining traces of _him_.

"Is anyone around?" she whispered, unable to get the proud and somehow slightly shy grin off of her face as she tucked him back into his pants and silently zipped him up. He checked one last time before shaking his head, and then she rose back up from under the table and slid back to his side like nothing had ever happened.

Much more relaxed now and exponentially less tense, Bucky leaned back and stared at her like she was an absolute goddess - and a deliciously filthy one at that. She simply reached for her glass of water and asked nonchalantly, "Feel better?"

His arm slid around her waist and pulled her against him before she could take a drink. His lips pressed hotly to her ear, he murmured, "I can't believe you just _fucking_ did that. Right _fucking_ here in the middle of a _fucking_ restaurant."

Someone who didn't know him inside and out like she did might have mistaken his tone and his words for anger. But she knew better, so she grinned and replied, "Well... I just wanted dessert."

He drew away and shook his head as a lopsided smirk turned up his mouth at one corner. "When do I get mine?"

She glanced up and, upon spotting their waiter across the dining room, signaled for him to bring the check. Then she turned back to Bucky and replied, "The minute you get me back inside the house."

"Yeah? The _minute_?" he asked with clear delight. "So I can push you against the front door as soon as it's shut and get on my knees and go to town on you, baby?"

Her belly fluttering a little at those words and the images they put in her head, she took a breath and answered, "You can have me wherever you want me."

He groaned softly at her words and then kissed under her ear before nuzzling her neck, breathing in the potion again. She could feel his mild shudder as he inhaled, and then as he lifted his head back up, their waiter returned with the check.

What relief he had been basking in before was gone now, hardening all over again as the magic combined with his hunger for the woman next to him made him ache with need. He watched her pay the bill with a smile and warm words of thanks to their waiter, and then the minute the man was gone, Bucky grabbed her hand and all but dragged her out of the restaurant and to the car. He barely managed to avoid throwing her over his shoulder like a caveman and exiting that way, but he hadn't lost all self control just yet.

Bucky pushed the speed limits the whole way home, saying next to nothing and glaring at the road like it had personally wronged him. Summer simply sat back and enjoyed the ride, catching his eye when she looked up in the mirror and tried to fix the lipstick she'd ruined during her adventure under the table. She didn't _need_ to fix it, of course, but watching her do it and knowing _why_ made Bucky's gaze darken with lust even more and his pants become unbearably tight. By the time they were finally pulling into the driveway back at the ultra-private beach house, Bucky was almost _angry_ with need and Summer was doing her best to hold back a rush of giggles.

Bucky left the headlights on and didn't even bother to shut the driver's side door after he turned off the car and tore out of it like a man possessed. Summer grinned and turned off the headlights just before a warm hand enclosed around her arm and pulled her out of the car and to her feet. She grinned up at him for the few seconds that passed before he was dragging her into the house, and then before she knew it he had slammed the front door shut and pushed her up against it just like he had said he would back at the restaurant.

"You drive me crazy," he murmured, pressing his body against hers and brushing the tip of her nose with his, hands grasping her hips and pulling them against his own. "Do you see what you fucking do to me?"

"I could ask you the same thing," she replied breathlessly, arms twining around his neck. "Trust me, I wouldn't get under a dinner table for any other guy in the world."

"You better not," he grinned before capturing her lips in a hungry, already sloppy kiss. She whimpered as his tongue dominated hers, nearly drowning in him before he broke away and trailed his lips down to her neck, right back to where that potion was still strong and very present.

He took another deep breath of the scent and ground his hips into hers, groaning against her skin, "What the hell are you wearing? I swear every time I smell it it's like it goes straight to my cock."

Blushing at his choice of words as well as having to find the right answer to his question, Summer chuckled and said, "Oh, just... something I got as a gift."

He growled and started kissing her neck right where the potion was, breathing it in with every inhale and _groaning_, and Summer wasn't sure if she was just imagining it or if he was actually getting harder against her the more he smelled it.

"What's it made of, some kinda fucking drug? _My God,_" he nearly whined, grazing his teeth along her sensitive flesh and making her shudder.

"No," she half-moaned. "It's... magic."

Bucky stilled and then raised his head to look her in the eye. "_What_?"

She bit her lip and smiled, deciding that she might as well come clean while she had the nerve. "It's not perfume. Remember when Thor gave us our wedding gift? There was a, uh... a bottle of aphrodisiac, and..."

Bucky's expression went from puzzled to shocked to dark in less than the time it took for Summer to take a breath. "... You put on a magical aphrodisiac like _perfume_?"

She smiled and shrugged a little. "I just thought... you know... it might be fun?"

Bucky simply stared at her for a moment before asking, "Where is it?"

She glanced over to where she'd dropped her purse on the floor on their way inside. "In there."

Bucky then let go of her, grabbing her bag from the floor and quickly rummaging through it to find the bottle. He located it quickly, pulling it out and then dropping her purse back to the floor.

"_This_ thing is what made me feel like an out of control teenager tonight?" he asked, holding up the harmless looking bottle.

Summer nodded. "Yep. That's... that's the stuff."

He looked at the thing in disbelief, and then before Summer could stop him and warn him about the instructions, Bucky popped it open and took a full, deep breath of it straight from the source.

"Oh God, Bucky, no! You're supposed to... it's... _frick_."

Summer gave up trying to protest as she watched Bucky's face change in an instant. His mouth dropped open and his cheeks grew pink, eyes dilating and almost every trace of blue disappearing less than a mere second. His grip on the bottle grew almost tight enough to shatter it, and he actually _moaned_ as his eyes rolled in the back of his head and then fell shut.

_Oh boy_. She was really in for it now.

When his eyes opened back up, he looked at her like she was his prey and he was a predator who hadn't had a good meal since roughly the Stone Age. Then he was walking towards her, still clutching the bottle, and her hand flew over her nose and mouth. "Don't put that so close to me! I don't wanna -"

"Summer," he said, caging her against the wall with his free hand and his tone absolutely sinful, "you're gonna take a nice, big, deep breath of this shit, and you know why? _You_ did this to me. You did this on purpose. And I'm _sure as fuck_ not gonna be the only one suffering tonight."

Summer stared at him for a moment and then slowly let her hand drop from her face. He was right. This had all been her doing, and if he wanted to level the playing field, then it was only fair for her to let him.

"Fine," she sighed, giving in. Then Bucky smirked and held up the bottle to her nose, and she leaned in and inhaled.

Heat instantly overcame her, washing over every inch of her skin and every last nerve ending and making her feel like lava had just been injected directly into her veins. Suddenly her already-oversensitive body was even more alert and sensitive in ways no human body could ever naturally be, and there was a telltale, _immediate_ gush between her legs that made her gasp and widen her already-bewildered eyes.

"_Holy fuck_," she blurted out, her filter annihilated and _gone_. Bucky's eyes widened in shock at her uncharacteristic curse, and then he carefully put the cork back in the bottle and tossed it down on top of her purse on the floor. Then they stared at each other for exactly one second before they both _pounced_, and then sheer chaos ensued.

High on magic traditionally meant to encourage relations between spouses who either barely knew each other or found each other repulsive - _Asgardian_ spouses at that - the potion spurred the two very much in love human spouses into attacking each other like their very lives depended on it. Bucky kept her pushed against the door and literally ripped off her dress, staying mindful of her belly despite it all, and Summer broke half the buttons on his shirt and had his pants down on the floor before their first kiss had even broke.

"This is insane," she muttered as he slid a knee between her thighs, that lone pressure against her already-swollen center making her shudder with pleasure. He was inhumanly hard against her hip, grinding on her through his boxer briefs like he simply couldn't help it, and she moaned when he grasped both of her hands and shoved them against the door on either side of her head.

"It's your fucking fault," he hissed out through gritted teeth, rocking them together desperately and entirely without finesse.

"_Oh my God_," she moaned, throwing her head back against the door and gasping in bewilderment as she felt herself start to clench and tighten already. Less than a minute of grinding on each other's thighs and they were both on the edge, and all it took was a harsh bite on her pulse point and she was coming apart and almost screaming his name. He was right behind her, gasping into her neck and making a mess out of them both right there against the door.

She was panting hard and staring wide-eyed and confused into space when he finally pulled away and straightened up, looking at her and wearing the same expression. Summer glanced down at their legs and realized with a start that the... _evidence_... of what they'd done was almost comically excessive and had even made its way to the floor. Bucky didn't notice this, because he was too busy staring down at himself and muttering, "... I'm still fucking hard."

Summer gulped and felt her own pulse of arousal return just at the sound of his voice. "Bedroom?" she squeaked, and Bucky nodded and picked her up like she weighed nothing and got them upstairs in record time. She made a mental note to bleach the floor later, so the poor cleaning lady wouldn't have to.

Both of them fully naked by the time they made it to their bed, Bucky laid her down on it and crawled over her as he groaned, "I'd fucking tear you apart right now if you weren't pregnant."

Hearing her pulse pound in her ears and feeling another gush that she couldn't help, Summer rolled him over on his back and replied, "I kinda wanna tear _you_ apart."

"How about you just come up here and sit on my face instead," he growled, and she whimpered as she obeyed in a heartbeat. But right at the last minute, she turned around so that she was facing away from him, and he didn't even blink before grasping her hips and pulling her down on his mouth.

She felt like she was right back on the edge all over again almost immediately, and it was like being drunk on _feeling _and simply being unable to do anything but enjoy the ride and just try to keep breathing. Bucky was groaning and _devouring_ her, leaving bruises on the outside of her hips with his ever-tightening fingers, and he made her fall apart _twice_ before she even remembered why she was in her particular position to begin with. Her entire body shaking but still nowhere near satisfied, she leaned down and grasped his _visibly_ aching length in her hand and didn't dare to tease him before taking him in her mouth for the second time that night.

Neither of them lasted for more than another minute once they were working together, moving in the same rhythm and noisily bringing each other off. She went first, her vision blurring at the edges before his cry of pleasure brought her back to the present. She swallowed him down again, or at least _most_ of him, since the potion was still having effects that she had not anticipated. But she hadn't seen anything yet.

Once again, he still didn't soften even by a fraction. He, of course, was blessed with the stamina of a super soldier but he still had a refractory period, albeit a wonderfully short one that other men would have killed for. But that wasn't the case that night, and Summer stared at the unyielding hardness for a moment before straightening up and turning around, easing off of his face and looking down at him only to gasp and hold her mouth in sudden embarrassment.

He was literally _soaked_. It wasn't unusual for his face to be a mess following _that_ but his neck and even part of his chest was drenched in _her_ and for a moment, humiliation overcame the heat still burning in her veins and Summer's face became as red as a tomato.

Bucky, however, simply grinned at her and then glanced down at his chest before saying, "Well, _that's_ new."

"I'm... oh God, I'm sorry," she replied, vaguely aware that it was a ridiculous thing to apologize for since she didn't have the slightest amount of control over it and judging by the look on his face, he rather liked it.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" he asked, grabbing the askew sheet beneath him to dry off with since, as she then realized, she'd already ruined _that_ too. "I'm gonna have to try to make you do that without the damn potion one of these days."

She simply stared at him wide-eyed for a moment before he gently pushed her down on her back, hovering over her as she babbled, "I didn't - I wasn't expecting some of this stuff, like -"

He shook his head and silenced her with a kiss. "I love this. I feel like my head's gonna explode and I'm just gonna keep going until it _falls off _but fuck, this is hot, baby."

Blushing at his words and her eyes fluttering shut as he leaned down to tease a nipple with his tongue, she dragged her fingers through his hair and let go of those sudden-onset inhibitions. There was nothing about her that he didn't love, no part of her that he _didn't_ want to drown in, and she had much better things to focus on than her own body's natural reactions to Asgardian magic - like, for instance, the way that he lifted her leg over his shoulder and pushed inside of her, relinquishing her breast from his lips to groan and squeeze his eyes shut in pleasure.

It was gonna be a long, long night.

From there, he took her in every position imaginable that she could comfortably contort into with her growing belly in the way. Sometimes he went excruciatingly slow just so he'd last longer than two minutes, but even when he went off before he would have preferred, he could still simply just keep _going_. They were making an utter mess of the entire room and each other, eventually wandering from the bed to the window where he took her from behind as she gazed out sightlessly to the rolling moonlit waves below, fingers scrambling aimlessly at the glass until he picked her up and moved them to a chair that she then rode him in. Nonexistent inhibitions also meant that they were the loudest they had possibly ever been, and Bucky was so far gone he could barely even monologue like he usually did during their nights together.

But it all finally came to a head - three hours after Bucky had made Summer breathe the potion in with him - with Bucky on his back in the destroyed bed and Summer on top of him. His hands were up and grasping a bar of the wooden headboard, hanging on as she gripped the bar above the one he was holding and gave him the ride of his life. All he saw was her, her entire body covered in both his and her sweat, breasts bouncing with every roll and thrust of her hips, her dark hair wild and tangled, her lower lip caught between her teeth and her eyes shut tight as she chased her own pleasure, and he thought that it might as well have been heaven. Everything was so heightened - _everything_ \- and when he started to feel himself slip away off the edge yet again, his grip on the wood tightened and it splintered as he came with a _roar_ of a cry.

She didn't stop riding him or slow down even by a second. She was so close and she just _knew_ he wasn't quite done yet, so she simply kept going even faster and then watched with wide eyes as his last shudder of pleasure was followed by his eyes flying open along with his mouth, and then he was gasping and _breaking_ the headboard as he came again, right on the heels of the last one. The sight of him being so utterly lost to the bewildering and overwhelming pleasure pushed her off the edge and she came for the last time with a hoarse, desperate cry, momentarily unaware that her fluttering and clenching around him sent him off for the _third time_ in a row. He made a sound that she had never heard before, something between a scream and a sob, and then, after it was over and his hips stopped jerking and his voice fell silent, his eyes rolled shut and his hands fell limply to the bed at his sides.

Summer, bewildered and only halfway believing what she had just seen - her husband experiencing multiple orgasms so close together it made even _her_ a little jealous - stayed draped on his chest for a few moments after, breathing hard and trying her best to recover. She was pretty sure that she was done now, feeling about as boneless as a bowl of overcooked spaghetti, and she could only pray that Bucky was also done for the night.

She croaked out his name and then lifted her head, only to find him quite literally passed out underneath her. She shook him a little, trying to rouse him, but nothing happened. She had a brief moment of mild panic where she checked his breathing and his pulse - what if he'd experienced a sex and magic induced heart attack? - but he was perfectly fine. He had simply blacked out when it had all become too much for even his enhanced body to handle.

Pressing a kiss to his forehead, Summer rolled off of him and all but collapsed on her back beside him. The bed was broken, and the mattress was probably going to need to be replaced. The room smelled like people had been having marathon sex for about a month nonstop, and did she mention that the bed was actually _broken_?

She contemplated a shower for about five seconds before deciding that she probably couldn't even stand if she wanted to. She was also starving now, and the baby in her belly was kicking her with a fury that Summer had not felt before.

It made sense, though. The poor baby probably thought they'd narrowly escaped a three hour long ride through a tornado. Summer cringed to herself and decided that she just wouldn't think about _that_. Just... no.

She would deal with the mess and her hunger and the general disarray of everything in the morning. For then, she curled up next to her passed-out husband and fell asleep right with him, making a mental note to one day make sure she got to thank the lady who had made the potion in person. She now owed her thanks not just for a painless labor but also for the craziest night of her life, and Bucky had a few things to thank her for as well.

And to think, they still had over half their honeymoon left to go.

* * *

Having survived their second honeymoon intact - barely - Summer and Bucky returned home to New York and barely had a full day to recover from the lengthy plane ride back before one of the days they had been greatly anticipating were upon them. It was time to find out the gender of their unborn baby.

Sitting in the office of the same midwife who had delivered Adelaide, Summer watched the monitor excitedly as the moment drew ever closer. Bucky was sitting to her left, holding Addie in his lap and sporting a tan he'd brought back from the island, and David was sitting next to him, mentally chanting prayers for a brother this time instead of a sister. David adored his little sister, of course, but she was _extremely_ girly and most of his cousins were girls too. He was ready to have a little brother to play with and have some balance to all the pink and frilly things he'd been living with for nearly two years.

With the cold goo smeared over Summer's belly and the midwife moving the wand around, all eyes were glued to the monitor as the midwife, Claire, first showed the baby's head.

"Aw, look," Summer giggled, pointing at the little tiny button nose visible on the screen. "What a tiny nose!"

"And chubby cheeks," Bucky noted, a smile on his face as he inspected the image of his new son or daughter.

"What are you guys hoping for, boy or girl?" Claire asked, tossing a smile their way.

"Well," Summer said, "I'll be equally happy either way, but I have a feeling it's a boy. My son wants a brother," she smiled at David, "and I haven't been able to get a straight answer out of Addie yet."

Bucky got Addie's attention and asked her with a smile, "Do you want Mama to have a little girl baby or a little boy baby?"

Adelaide then smiled happily at Bucky and exclaimed, "Bunny!"

The midwife cracked up, and Summer giggled before shrugging, "Well, there you have it. Addie's pulling for a bunny."

"And what about you, Dad?" Claire asked, glancing Bucky's way. "What's your vote?"

Bucky let out a breath and smiled a little before giving a small shrug. "I'm just happy to have another baby. I really don't care whether it's a boy or a girl or both or neither."

"He doesn't even care if it actually _is_ a bunny," Summer added with a laugh.

"Well, I haven't found any furry ears or a tail yet, so I think you're safe there," Claire chuckled, pausing the wand and zooming in on a particular corner of the screen. Then she looked at the family and smiled, "Ready to find out?"

Summer's eyes quickly glued themselves on the zoomed in portion of the image, and she instantly knew as soon as she spotted the telltale signs. She smiled and glanced at Bucky, who was squinting and clearly not making sense of the image, and David looked exactly the same.

"Can you tell?" Summer asked Bucky with a happy little giggle.

"Well... I'm not really seeing any boy parts," he replied. "But I'm also not seeing girl ones either. I'm not really seeing anything, honestly."

Claire laughed again, and then she asked Summer, "I know you can tell. I'll let you do the honors."

Summer then smiled warmly at Bucky and David both before telling them, "It's a girl."

Bucky's eyebrows shot up into his hairline before dropping back down as a huge smile curled across his lips and made his eyes crinkle. David, however, dropped his head back against the wall behind his chair and sighed loudly, but he did it with a smile on his face. It appeared that even more bows and frilly things were in his future.

"You've got a little sister, Addie," Bucky told his daughter, pointing to the monitor to show her now that the midwife had zoomed out and the baby's profile was visible again. "Look."

Adelaide looked and then warbled, "_Bunny bunny bunny_!"

That made everyone laugh, including David who adored listening to his baby sister babble and ramble over random things. If this new little sister was just like her, he supposed, maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

"Got a name picked out yet?" Claire asked.

"Rebecca," Summer replied with a smile. "Rebecca Natalia."

"Oh, that's beautiful," Claire smiled back.

"Yeah... we had a boy name picked out too, but I guess maybe next time we can use it, if we have a boy."

"Already planning a next time?" Claire asked, looking the family over. "You're gonna have your hands full with two little ones running around."

Summer glanced at Bucky and shared a smile with him before shrugging. "Well, I'm not gonna plan or _try_ for another one, but... whatever happens will happen."

She and Bucky were in full agreement there. While they didn't necessarily want as many kids as her brother and his wife had spawned, they didn't see the harm in having a few more. Their kids had been nothing but a joy to them both, and now that they were free to live the rest of their lives as they pleased, they were ready to take however many babies happened to come their way - within reason.

"Well, Mr. Barnes, I hope you're ready to beat the boys back with a stick someday," Claire said, giving Bucky another smile. "You've already got one beautiful daughter, and now you're gonna have two. That's twice the boyfriends, twice the school dances, twice the drama."

Bucky's gaze darkened before he muttered, "I choose not to think about that."

"Me too," Summer agreed. "Maybe we'll get lucky and they'll both grow up and like girls."

"Yes," Bucky nodded enthusiastically. "That would be better. Or even better than that - maybe they'll be asexual."

Summer's eyes widened and she nodded so hard she hurt her head a little bit. "_Yes_! But that doesn't mean they won't still get their hearts broken."

Bucky furrowed his brows. "I thought asexual meant no interest in anyone."

"No, it means no interest in _sex_ with anyone," Summer replied. "They'd still have crushes and stuff."

"Oh," Bucky frowned. "Well, never mind, then." He was still figuring out modern labels and identities that people those days adopted, and it wasn't easy keeping it all straight. He was doing better than Steve, though, who briefly thought _pansexual_ meant having an attraction to actual cookware. Tony would never _ever_ let him live that one down.

"I'm sure no matter what, they'll turn out just fine," Claire assured them. "They seem to have a good couple of parents to steer them right."

Summer smiled at those words and reached out and took Bucky's hand. Their kids did indeed have two good parents, and neither one of them would ever forget how close they came to losing Bucky forever. Addie and Rebecca would grow up and not remember a thing from that time, but they would, and so would David. They'd never forget how lucky and blessed they were to be together and be a family.

And soon - in just a little over four months - their family would officially gain its newest little member. They couldn't _wait_.

* * *

_Four months later_

At eight and a half months pregnant, Summer felt like she had swallowed an entire house. While she had only gained half the weight she had with Adelaide - and that was a good thing, considering how excessive her weight gain with her had been - she still felt absolutely enormous and was nearing the point of simply being _done_ with being pregnant.

Actually, scratch that. She was already done with _being done_ with being pregnant.

Construction on their new home in back in Fall's Church had begun two months prior, and not long after that, Bucky began going through the process of being mentally and physically evaluated for going back to work at the Avengers compound. It wasn't a short process, being official this time around and monitored by the proper authorities, but it was a very necessary step in getting back to work doing what he did best. Steve was going to be leading the opening of a second compound in Washington D.C. within the next year, and naturally he wanted Bucky to be there with him and possibly leading missions on his own, once he was up to it.

It was a busy time, that much was sure. But Summer made sure that she and the whole family carved time out of their schedules for a new round of family pictures plus maternity pictures, because while she felt like a beached whale, she wanted to forever remember the time. With only a few weeks left before little Rebecca would be due to enter the world, Summer and the whole family met Nicolo and Esteban at the park for a round of adorable family photos.

It went as one would expect. Adelaide was tooth-rottingly cute but difficult to keep focused, David was bored easily, and Summer's hair ended up in her mouth every time the wind picked up. Most predictably, however, Bucky looked flawless in almost every single shot. His hair was getting long again, not quite long enough yet to put up but long enough to drive Summer crazy and make Esteban rave over his generally lickable appearance. That was even the word that he used. _Lickable_.

But, after a solid hour and a half of taking photos, Nicolo decided that he had enough decent shots to work with and gave the green light to head back to the tower. There they would take the rest of her solo maternity photos, with a proper backdrop and setup, and then Summer's ordeal would be over. Taking pictures was, after all, a uniquely exhausting experience for a heavily pregnant woman.

On their way out of the park, Nicolo walked alongside Summer and Bucky and said, "You know, if you happened to be interested, I've got a few ideas for some less... traditional photos."

"Like what?" Summer asked, taking a swig from the enormous water bottle in her hand. She was _always_ thirsty, to the point of it driving her nuts.

"Well, you wanted some... tastefully nude shots, right?"

Summer blushed and almost choked on her water. Bucky's eyes widened and he looked at her with great amusement as he asked, "Oh, _did_ you now?"

"I... it was just an idea," she shrugged, blushing even more deeply under Bucky's gaze. "Like... you know, sort of like the pictures where the girl's got fabric draped around her and the lighting's all dark and pretty?"

Bucky had never seen another woman's maternity photos, so he simply shrugged and smiled. Nicolo, meanwhile, replied, "Yes, that's exactly what I had in mind. But... I was also thinking maybe _he_ could jump in a few as well."

"Me?" Bucky asked. "Really?"

Nicolo then paused and fished his phone out of his pocket, pulling up his camera roll and selecting one that he had saved for inspiration. He then showed it to both Bucky and Summer, the former widening his eyes and the latter dropping her jaw and nearly choking again.

"Yeah," Bucky nodded immediately. "Hell yeah. Let's do it."

Nicolo then looked at Summer questioningly, grinning because he knew what her answer would be just as well as she did.

She sighed and nodded. "Fine. I'm gonna die."

She did not die, however. About an hour later, after getting back to the tower and grabbing a snack plus touching up her hair and makeup, she was in a room occupied by only herself, Nicolo, Esteban and Bucky. She had just finished taking her solo photos, some fully clothed and others not, all of them classy with an artistic flare that Nicolo was known for. The two men had a way of making her feel completely at ease and comfortable, even in various states of undress, and she was enormously grateful to have them in her life.

"Okay," Esteban clapped mischievously, gesturing towards Bucky who had been sitting on the sidelines quietly admiring his wife during the shoot. "Get your shirt off and get in there."

He chuckled and got to his feet, doing as he was instructed and Summer sighed as Esteban headed her way to help her off the floor where she had been laying and posing with a big swath of fabric covering her and nothing else. She covered herself with it after he helped her stand, and then he raised an eyebrow and asked, "Ready?"

She glanced over at Bucky as he casually strutted her way, wearing just a pair of sinfully low-slung dark jeans and nothing else. She then bit her lip and said, "As ready as I'll ever be."

"Mhm," Esteban grinned, patting her shoulder as Bucky took his place at her side. He then told them both, "This is gonna be hot. And gorgeous. You," he told Bucky, "I want you to _make love _to the camera. I want you to look at it and make it your little bitch."

Bucky snorted and raised an eyebrow. "You want me to fuck the camera?"

"Figuratively, yes. And you," he told Summer next, "I want you to just be your beautiful self. Smile, blush, giggle, whatever. Show the camera how much you love this man and why you keep letting him put his babies in you."

"You really have an... elegant way of putting things," Summer smiled.

"Of course I do. Now put this on," he grabbed a flowy black maxi skirt she'd brought with her and tossed it at her, "and that lacy black bra from before, and we'll go from there."

Summer nodded, watching Esteban head back to Nicolo's side and then smiling nervously at Bucky. "Ready?"

"To eye-fuck the camera? I guess," he grinned, and she slapped his shoulder lightly before getting ready for the first round of photos.

They started off with simple, sweet shots. Summer standing sideways, Bucky on his knees in front of her, holding her belly and either looking at it or her, his gleaming metal arm always the one facing the camera. Then they took some of her sitting in his lap, both of them holding her belly and alternating between smiling at each other, laughing together and kissing here and there. Those were the easy, almost effortless pictures, but the sexiest were saved for last.

"I think I'm gonna like this," Bucky said, unclasping her bra for her. She pulled it off of her arms and he made her giggle by placing a kiss on the back of her shoulder blade.

"Of course you will," she mused, turning around and grinning when his eyes of _course_ fell to her breasts. "You like everything involving my boobs being out."

"Can you blame me?" he smirked, and then they were interrupted by Esteban directing them into the position that he and Nicolo wanted.

A few moments later, Bucky and Summer were standing directly in front of the camera, her back pressed to his chest and her hands resting high on her belly. His right arm was wrapped along the lower part of her belly, almost cupping it, and his metal arm was draped across her chest. His held her left breast in his hand, his forearm concealing the other one, and as instructed, he stared at the camera with a gaze so direct and smoldering that Esteban audibly whimpered and began fanning himself with his hand.

Summer couldn't help but laugh a little as Nicolo took shot after shot, looking down and smiling and whispering under her breath, "This is kinda hilarious."

"Shh," he murmured into her ear, never taking his gaze off of the camera. "I'm trying to make the camera my bitch right now."

_That_ made her crack up, and he couldn't help but laugh with her. Nicolo simply kept shooting, fully aware that half the time the best photos were the ones that happened accidentally.

"Stop, you're gonna make me pee," she giggled, trying her best to achieve a straight face.

"I'm not doing anything," he whispered in defense of himself. "But I could if you wanted me to. Like... I could tell you all the things I plan on doing to you later tonight."

She blushed and guessed, "Rubbing my swollen feet and hand-feeding me an Oreo McFlurry?"

"... Dammit, you ruined the surprise."

They started laughing again, and Nicolo briefly glanced up at Esteban so they could both shake their heads at the insufferably cute couple.

"Actually... I planned on getting the kids to bed early tonight," he murmured in her ear after the giggles subsided. "Then getting you in the bathtub and working out all those knots you've got in your back from lugging this baby around all day."

"That sounds _great_," she groaned, eyes fluttering shut at the mere thought.

"Then... I'm gonna take you to bed and get my mouth on you," he whispered, his breath deliciously warm on her ear and his teeth briefly nipping at the lobe. "All over you. Keep going 'til you make me stop. It's been awhile since I've gotten to do that. Think I'll drag it out, make it last... make you come as many times as I can like that."

Her eyes still closed and her cheeks heating up to almost unbearable lengths, not to mention her heartbeat starting to flutter wildly in response to his words and the dark tone of his voice, Bucky chose that moment to look up at the camera through his lashes and give it his most heated look yet. The first photo that Nicolo took of _that_ ended up being his favorite from the entire shoot.

"Sound good, sweetheart?" Bucky asked once he knew that Nicolo had taken enough shots of that particular look. He kissed under Summer's ear, and all the while Nicolo kept snapping away and Esteban watched while biting his fist.

"Yeah," she replied shakily, smiling while biting her lip. "That sounds..." she let out a giggle. "These pictures are gonna look so weird."

"No, they're gonna be great. You're beautiful like this," he told her sincerely, his right hand thumb swiping affectionately over her belly. "And one day, when our house is finished, we can get the best picture from this shoot framed and put on our bedroom wall."

"... You'd want that?"

He chuckled darkly. "Would I want a big framed picture of us standing here like this, you topless and in my arms, carrying my baby? Yeah... yeah, I'd definitely want that."

She believed him. And now she wanted it too.

Once the shoot was over and Bucky had helped Summer get fully dressed again, not to mention calm down after the heated words he'd been whispering seductively into her ear, Nicolo pulled up his favorite shot from the last part of the shoot and showed it to the couple on his camera's viewer. They both peered down at the photo and let their jaws drop a little at how incredibly gorgeous it was.

"Look at this," Nicolo told Summer, zooming in on Bucky's face. A flash of heat ripped through her immediately - she couldn't help it. He was staring at the camera like he _owned_ it, like he was going to devour the person on the other side, and that was when she realized it - she had seen that very same look countless times before, always when she was laid out before him in their bed and he was deciding how to take her apart first.

And now, seeing that look immortalized in a photo where he was holding her protectively and possessively, both of them naked from the waist up and his shining metal arm the only thing concealing her breasts from view... it was possibly the best thing she'd ever seen in her life.

"You definitely made the camera your bitch," Esteban said, also peeking down at the picture. "Yes. You..." He cleared his throat. "Wow. For once, I might actually be speechless."

"That never happens," Nicolo said, looking at Bucky meaningfully. "Be proud, my friend."

Bucky chuckled, and Summer bit her lip before smiling and telling Nicolo, "When you edit this picture and finish it, we want it big and framed. I need it. Whatever it'll cost, sign us up."

"I can do that," Nicolo smiled. "And of course, I'll personally take care of that for you, just to make sure none of these photos get into the wrong hands and end up on the Internet."

"The Internet would break," Esteban said, wide-eyed. "Forget Kim Kardashian. This would actually bring the Internet apocalypse."

"... Which is why it will be staying in my hands," Nicolo smiled.

"Thank you so much," Summer said gratefully, hugging them both. "I love you both. You're the best. I couldn't do this stuff with anyone else."

"It's our pleasure," Nicolo assured her, hugging her back. "You might be my favorite person to photograph."

Summer blushed in response, and Bucky slid an arm around her waist as he remarked, "Take as many pictures of her as you want, whenever you want. The less clothes she wears, the better. In fact, I'll gladly take another book of sexy pictures of her."

Summer rolled her eyes. "Maybe if _you_ do one yourself, I'll think about it."

Esteban's eyes widened and he nearly gasped, "That might not be a bad idea."

"Boudoir shoot with the Winter Soldier," Nicolo grinned.

"I take it back - _that_ would break the Internet," Esteban said. "It might even break the entire universe."

"Dream on, guys," Bucky scoffed, patting Nicolo's shoulder before walking away to grab his drink where he'd left it on the floor some yards away.

Summer simply smirked at him and called out, "You'd do it if I asked you to. You can't say no to me."

Taking a long drink from a bottle of water, Bucky then lowered the drink and teased back, "First time for everything."

She raised an eyebrow. "... Is that a challenge?"

He simply shrugged and then took another long drink before walking away, shooting her a maddening little grin and then heading towards the door. Once it closed behind him, Summer put her hands on her hips and sighed, "Why does he have to be so hot?"

"God knew that he was going to face an obscene amount of horrible things in his life," Esteban explained with a shrug. "So he blessed him with and endless and irresistible supply of _sexy _to help make up for it."

"... You know, I might actually believe that," Summer replied, nodding.

"Plus," Nicolo added, "if he passed out in front of your house looking like Steve Buscemi, you might not have ever agreed to date him and then you would have missed out on the great love of your life. So really, it's for the best that he's as pretty as he is."

"... True," she mused.

"Exactly," Esteban added, "because also, you never would have come to New York and met _us_. And let's face it, your life would be so much emptier without us."

She smiled at both of them affectionately and couldn't help but agree. "Yeah it would. Which is why you guys are required to come visit me all the time when I move back home."

"Of course," Esteban sighed. "That goes without saying. Besides, you need someone to help you decorate the new place, yes? Did you know that I used to moonlight as an interior designer back home in Spain?"

"Of course you did," Summer laughed. "Is there anything you _haven't_ done?"

"I have never slept with a woman," Esteban immediately shrugged. "Does that count?"

Summer laughed and pulled both men into another hug, simply filled to the brim with love and affection for them. She'd miss them once she and the family moved back to Virginia, but she would make sure to visit as often as possible and she wouldn't let their friendship fade. Moving to New York was one of the best decisions she had ever made, but she also knew deep down that going home and starting over in a brand new house built from the ground up was the right next step to take.

But first, the house needed to finish being built, and before _that_, she needed to evict Rebecca from her current place of residence. That happened soon enough, just two weeks later in fact, on the very day that Summer officially hit the nine month mark.

* * *

It happened as Summer was peering out the window in her room, watching the raging blizzard outside blanket Manhattan in over two feet of snow. It had been snowing since the night before, and while David and Adelaide were both incredibly excited at this development, Summer was significantly less thrilled. Several feet of snow meant being stuck in the tower, and being stuck in the tower at full term pregnancy meant that it was time to start getting nervous.

Then, she made the mistake of reaching up to pull the curtains shut. As soon as she stretched her arms out, she felt a distinct and unmistakable _pop_ deep in her abdomen followed by a warm gush down her legs that immediately made her pause and widen her eyes in shock.

Then she rolled her eyes and muttered, "You've gotta be fricking kidding me."

As it turned out, fate and its questionable sense of humor was definitely _not_ kidding her.

After she yelled for Bucky and told him what happened, he proceeded to panic and tell Steve who told Nat who told everyone in a group text what was going on. This resulted in Paul emerging from the room that he had been staying in since the night before - the blizzard hit right at the end of his shift at the hospital and Summer insisted that he stay there rather than attempt the hour-long drive home - and panicking right alongside Bucky. Steve wasn't very calm either, and this left Summer and Natasha to simply mutually roll their eyes as they dialed the midwife and started timing contractions.

"What's gonna happen?" Bucky asked wide-eyed as Summer paced the living room area, keeping moving so as to encourage contractions. "You can't have the baby here!"

"Well," Summer replied, "unless Vision or Tony wants to literally fly me half an hour away to the birthing center, this is exactly where I'm gonna have her."

"But... your midwife isn't here, and... oh God," Bucky groaned, dropping his face into his hands and dragging his fingers through his now-long again hair.

"Hey," Summer smiled, putting a soothing hand on his shoulder. "It's okay. I'm gonna be fine. And there _is_ a doctor here."

Bucky looked at her in confusion for a moment before his gaze drifted across the room and landed on Paul, who was trying to pick up Steve's shield for some unknown reason. He instantly dropped it, and it landed on his toes which caused him to let out a high-pitched cry of pain and clutch his foot as he hopped away from the thing.

Bucky let out a small noise of despair. "... Please don't tell me he's gonna deliver our baby."

"Look, he might be a giant dork who's probably wearing Harry Potter underwear under his jeans right now, but he's a great doctor," Summer replied. "The midwife said she'd talk him through everything once it's time to push. Trust me, we'd be in a lot worse shape if he wasn't here."

As if to prove her point, Tony suddenly appeared wearing a baseball catcher's mitt and umpire's mask. "So, I heard you need someone to catch your baby."

Bucky took one look at him and muttered, "Not you. Never you."

Tony took off the mask and feigned a wounded expression. "_Never_ me? Don't you think that's a little harsh?"

"No," Bucky shook his head. "No I don't."

Next to approach them and offer their assistance was Wanda, who had a much more reasonable and useful proposal for Summer.

"If you'd like, I can keep your mind occupied when the pain gets bad," she told her, following her around the room as she continued to pave. "I don't think I can make the pain stop, but I can try to block it from your mind."

"... That's a brilliant idea, holy crap," Summer replied, eyebrows shot up towards her hairline. "But I've got like five bottles of this pain potion stuff from Thor, and last time it worked perfect, so... maybe instead, can you help keep the kids happy?"

"Of course," Wanda smiled. "And let me know if you need anything." She glanced at Bucky and added, "You too."

"I'm okay for now," he smiled back. "But I'll let you know if I need you to do your voodoo so I don't pass out."

Wanda laughed and then headed off to begin her child care duties, and as a particularly strong contraction hit Summer and made her focus on breathing and working through it, she realized that while this situation was certainly not the ideal for childbirth, it wasn't so bad either. She was surrounded by friends and family and all the people she loved most in the world, and her brother was going to deliver her baby. How many women got to experience something like that?

Paul and Natasha setup a makeshift labor suite for Summer in one of the empty bedrooms as she continued walking and kick-starting her labor. They covered a previously unused bed with clean linens and laid out a number of supplies that Paul had sterilized, and in the end they did a pretty good job of making the room resemble one out of a hospital. Nobody in the tower was particularly well-versed in the realm of home births, but Paul had done a rotation in obstetrics during his residency in California and he was reasonably well-prepared to deliver his niece.

Sort of.

Twelve hours passed by in a blur. Six hours into labor, Summer had taken the potion and four hours after that, she got into the bed that had been prepared for her and labored the rest of the way there. While she wasn't in pain, she _was_ exhausted and there was no telling how long the labor was going to last, so she decided to try to take a nap.

She fell asleep for all of ten minutes before she woke up with a start. "Paul - Paul! Paul, get the frick in here!"

Bucky, who had been dozing in the chair next to her, nearly jumped out of his skin and gasped, "What? What - what happened? Are you okay?"

"I - go get Paul," Summer told him frantically, shaking her hand towards the door. "Hurry!"

Bucky got up and ran to the door at the very same moment that Paul was running _to_ it. As a result, when Paul burst inside the room, he whacked Bucky in the face with the door and sent him stumbling off against the wall with a surprised and bewildered groan of pain.

Summer groaned and dropped her head against the pillow. If nothing else, this birth was certainly proving not to be a boring one.

After apologizing profusely to Bucky and briefly making sure his nose wasn't broken, Paul rushed to his sister's side and asked, "What's up?"

"Well, I was sleeping and then all of a sudden now I feel like she's about to fly out any second, like she's got on a fricking jet pack or something and _oh my gosh, yep, oh God, I gotta push_ \- "

"Okay, calm down," Paul said, grabbing a pair of latex gloves out of a box that Tony had provided. "No jet-packing out of there until Doctor Uncle gives the okay."

Bucky returned to Summer's side and sighed with quiet despair at the words "Doctor Uncle", rubbing at his poor battered nose. Then, less than a full minute and one very quick glance later, Paul paled and said, "Oh God. Yep, that kid is coming right now."

"Frick _frick frick_," Summer whined, taking a deep breath and trying to resist the overwhelming need to push. "Oh God."

"Okay, um... Steve, can you give me a hand?" Paul called towards the door, needing an assistant and fast.

"Are you - oh my God, _no_!" Summer exclaimed the very moment Steve's bewildered head appeared in the doorway. "He's not coming anywhere near me down there!"

Before Paul could reply, Natasha appeared and pushed Steve out of the way, walking in with an expression of pure calm but also determination and focus. "I'll help. Kid's my little namesake, after all."

She and Summer shared a little smile at that, and Paul said, "Okay then. Nurse Widow it is. First thing I need you to do is call the midwife and get her on speaker so she can supervise."

Natasha whipped out her phone and started dialing. "Done. And don't call me that."

"I'm the doctor, I'm in charge right now." Paul then glanced at Natasha and visibly shrunk a little before muttering, "Kidding. You're in charge. You're always in charge."

"Of course I am."

Summer interrupted the banter with a hiss and a slightly high-pitched groan of, "Oh my God, guys, seriously, I can't hold back. This is unbearable, I'm gonna -"

"Hey, shh," Bucky said softly, grasping her hand and looking her in the eye, using his cool metal hand to brush a few strands of hair from her face. "Try to breathe, okay? You can do it. You've got this. It's almost over."

She nodded, closing her eyes and focusing on his words and on the rhythm of her own breathing. She made herself take long, slow breaths, and then before she knew it, Natasha was gently touching her arm and telling her, "You can push now."

"Oh, thank God," Summer groaned before taking a deep breath and finally giving in and letting her body do what it needed to do. This being her third child, she knew exactly what she was doing and how to push the most effectively, and while she might have lacked confidence in other areas of life, this wasn't one of them. Not only that, but she was _more_ than ready to get it all over with and finally have her new baby in her arms.

With the midwife on the phone and remotely supervising and advising Summer's unexpected support team, everything started to move rather quickly. Summer's focus shifted and narrowed into one singular goal that she put every ounce of energy behind, and once she was in the zone, nothing could stand in her way. Bucky watched her in a state of quiet, mostly silent awe, holding her hand and providing what support he could as their child came closer and closer to making their grand debut.

"Okay," Paul said after only about ten full minutes of pushing, "this is it. One more good push and you're almost done."

She could tell - the feeling of pressure was almost more than her brain could comprehend. After sucking in one more deep breath and tightening her grip on Bucky's hand, she gave it her all one more time.

"Oh my God," Paul said as he delivered the baby, cradling the head first and then guiding the rest of the tiny little creature out. "I'm delivering a baby. I'm delivering my _sister's_ baby. This is insane. Okay, one more little push, and... yep, okay. She's out. Good God, she's tiny."

Breathing hard and head falling back in sheer relief now that it was over at last, Summer only closed her eyes for a second before lifting her head back up and peering down towards Paul and Nat, unable to see the baby at all. Bucky was halfway out of his seat trying to see as well, but before she could impatiently demand to see her, Natasha had thrown a clean blanket over Summer's torso and Paul was placing a brand new little bundle of joy on top of it.

"Here you go, kid," he smiled affectionately, handing the baby over to her waiting arms. "Your new little baby girl."

And then, just like the two other children that came before her, as soon as Summer laid her eyes on the squirmy, _very_ unhappy newborn, she fell in love in an instant. The whole world melted away and all that mattered was this new, precious, adorable life in her arms. Then little Rebecca Natalia scrunched up her face and let out a hearty wail to make her ancestors proud, and Summer and Bucky both laughed as they gazed upon their daughter with love and tears in their eyes.

Natasha helped to clean the baby off as the new parents got lost in the happy daze, gently rubbing a soft cloth over her bright pink skin and then moving on to her hair. As she wiped the remaining goo away from her hair, Summer focused her eyes on the thin little wisps and wondered aloud, "Is she blonde?"

"She might be," Bucky said, leaning in closer to help Summer analyze. "I can't tell."

"Hold on," Natasha said, rubbing a bit more vigorously and finally getting Rebecca's head as clean as it was gonna get. Then all three of them looked a bit closer, and they couldn't believe what they found.

"... Oh my God," Bucky chuckled.

"Well, this is surprising," Natasha grinned.

Summer let out a breathless laugh. "Paul?"

"Yeah?" he asked without looking up, more than a little preoccupied at that current moment.

"Come look up here for a minute."

Paul paused and started to stand up, saying, "Well, I'm a little busy trying to make sure you don't bleed out and die on me because that would really suck and _oh my God_!" He gasped and his eyes became the size of saucers. "She has red hair!"

Apparently, unlike the case of her previous two children, the Irish genes in Rebecca's blood had emerged triumphant above all the others. Now Bucky and Summer, who were both as brunette as a couple could be, had a little blue-eyed and ginger-haired little girl, and the only person possibly happier than they were was Paul.

"She's beautiful," Paul said with tears in his eyes. "Look at her. Oh my God. This might be the best day of my whole life."

Summer laughed and kissed her little girl on the forehead. Rebecca was now wrapped up snugly in a clean blanket thanks to Natasha, and the little warm cocoon had soothed her so that she wasn't crying any longer. Instead, now she was staring up at her mama, clear blue eyes alert and absolutely beautiful.

"She's perfect," Bucky murmured, gently tracing his daughter's fat little cheek with his finger. "And so _little_."

"I know," Summer marveled, unable to get the smile off of her face. "She can't be more than seven pounds, if that."

"Cord cutting time," Paul announced, handing Bucky a pair of sterilized scissors. "Here you go."

Bucky took the scissors and kissed the top of Rebecca's head before standing and leaning over to cut the cord where Paul motioned him to. Once it was done and the cord was officially cut, he sat back down and looked upon his little family with more love in his eyes than he could almost stand. He felt like he might just burst, in the best possible way.

Then Summer asked him if he was ready to hold Rebecca for the first time, and it only got even better from there. He carefully took the little baby from Summer's arms into his, hardly able to believe how very small and light she was, his arms simply swallowing her up. He cooed sweet little words to her, told her how much he loved her, and he couldn't help but let a tear escape his eye when he remembered how close he had come to being separated from her forever before he could even meet her.

Though Bucky didn't want to let her go for even a minute, eventually he knew that he had to. So, after he had soaked up as much as he could from her, he turned his eyes to Natasha and asked, "Wanna hold her?"

Her eyes flickered with faint surprise before she quickly recovered and nodded, standing up and walking over to his side of the bed. Then, once she was close enough, they shared a brief but meaningful look before he put the baby in her arms, and that was all it took for the famous and fearsome Black Widow to melt into a helpless puddle.

It wasn't so long ago that Natasha hadn't believed that she was capable of anything good, or that anything good could ever be associated with her or name. But those days were over now, and she was holding a brand new and completely innocent little person in her arms who would bear her name all of her life. This beautiful little girl was pure and good and _precious_, and Natasha wasn't sure that either Bucky or Summer would ever know quite what it meant to her to have the child named after her.

"Look at you," Natasha said softly, her voice rousing Rebecca's eyes open. She smiled. "You've already made a lot of people very happy today." She glanced at Summer and Bucky and shared a small smile with them before turning back to the baby and leaning down, whispering something into her ear that nobody else could hear.

Soon after that, Paul finished his work and Summer was all fixed up and able to get up and move about as much as her energy level and motivation allowed. Natasha helped to get her cleaned up and into new clothes, and after Rebecca's first feeding, they allowed the others to come in and see the new baby.

David and Adelaide came in first, with Steve and Wanda right behind them. David's eyes nearly turned into giant hearts when he first laid them on his new little sister, his jaw dropping when he saw the very familiar color of her hair. Then Bucky picked Adelaide up and introduced her to Rebecca, but Adelaide wasn't all that impressed. She decided that she'd rather get down and try to get into as much stuff as possible, and that was fine - she and Rebecca would one day be best friends, Summer was sure of it.

Paul got his chance soon thereafter to hold the baby himself, at which point he burst into tears all over again due to just how perfect and _Irish_ she was. He could barely be convinced to give the baby up so someone else could hold her, but eventually he relented and let Steve take her for awhile.

From Steve she was then passed to Wanda, who passed her to Vision, who stared in wonder at the little child before carefully handing her to Tony.

"All right, Munchkin, listen up," Tony told her, gazing down very seriously into her barely open eyes. "I'm Tony Stark. You will love me, got it? I haven't won over your sister yet, but we're not gonna have that problem, are we? I didn't think so. That's right. I'm your favorite. Period."

After that, Sam woke up from a dead sleep to wander out of his room with Darcy and meet the baby as well. All was well until he handed her to Darcy, at which point the baby started pushing her face against her rather ample chest before letting out a pitiful and hungry cry.

"Oh boy, sorry kid, no food in these babies," Darcy said before quickly handing her off to Summer. "Here you go, Milk Factory. You've got an impatient customer."

Summer laughed and happily took the baby, and the room slowly cleared out as she nursed her back to sleep. It was as Rebecca slept contentedly on Summer's chest that it hit her just how dead tired she was, and with Bucky and Natasha's help, she got up and moved back into her own room.

On the way there, she hugged Paul as tightly as she could and thanked him for all that he had done for her.

"Anytime, kiddo," he smiled, hugging her back. "I gotta say, as gross as it was being all up in your business, getting to deliver my niece and welcome her into the world was just... wow. It was amazing."

Summer smiled and laughed at his choice of words. "Thanks for braving the ickiness and doing it. Otherwise I would have been stuck with Tony and his catcher's mitt."

Paul laughed and then bade her goodnight, urging her to rest while she could. He then headed off to one of the guest rooms to crash for the night, and Summer finally got to crawl into her own comfy bed and collapse into a big pile of useless limbs on top of it.

Bucky got the older kids to bed while Natasha deposited Rebecca in a little bassinet right next to Summer's side of the bed, well within arm's reach. "Need anything before I go?" Natasha asked, and Summer smiled and shook her head.

"Nope, I think I'm all set. But I did have a question. When you were whispering to her earlier... what did you say?"

Natasha paused before looking down at the sleeping baby and replying, "Well... she has my name, but she'll never have my life, or a lack of people who love her. I wanted her to know that, even if she can't understand yet."

Summer smiled warmly at her best friend, her words making her eyes prickle with tears. "You know I love you so much I can't stand it sometimes, right?"

Natasha chuckled at that and nodded, patting Summer's leg. "Yeah, I know. Thank you for..." Natasha trailed off then, simply unable to find the words. Finally she just shook her head slightly and smiled. "_Thank you_."

Summer nodded, knowing exactly what she meant without having to hear the words. Then Natasha told her goodnight and left quietly, walking out the door just as Bucky was walking in.

"I hope you enjoy not sleeping," Natasha smirked as she walked past him, both of them coming to a stop.

"I spent most of the last century sleeping. I'll live," he shrugged with a grin. Natasha rolled her eyes at him before surprising him by pulling him into a warm hug.

Bucky was so taken aback that he didn't know quite how to respond at first, but eventually he raised his arms up and embraced her back. Then when she pulled away, she gave him a small smile and told him, "You've come a long way. And you've got a hell of a life, Barnes. Don't screw it up."

"Wasn't planning on it," he replied softly.

She smiled and nodded, in that subtle way of hers as always. "See you at the office," she then joked, just before turning and heading back to her own room. Bucky chuckled and then shut the door, letting out a deep breath and then making his way to the bed where his wife was laying half-asleep.

She stirred when he slipped carefully into the bed, kissing her forehead as she groaned quietly. "I feel like I got hit by a truck."

He chuckled and gently wrapped his arm around her, above her waist just in case she was sore. "Well, you pushed a human being out of you, so... that's even more badass."

She smiled and closed her eyes, snuggling into his side and letting out a sleepy yawn. "I can't believe I had her here at the tower."

"I can't believe she's got your brother's hair."

Summer giggled. "I don't think I've ever seen him so happy before. I thought he was gonna hold her up like Simba and start singing _Circle of Life._"

Bucky chuckled back and pressed a kiss to her temple. "Go to sleep, sweetheart. We gotta sleep while she's sleeping."

"Yeah," Summer agreed, yawning again. "Okay. G'night."

"Night, baby," he murmured before closing his eyes along with her. "I love you."

"Love you too."

A few minutes later, the sound of soft snores filled the room as the two exhausted parents finally fell asleep around 4:30 AM. They both felt like they could sleep for days, Summer especially, and it was pure bliss to lay there in silence and just _sleep_.

At least until a sharp, hungry and demanding cry rang out from the bassinet next to them and woke them both up. Bucky shot up and Summer flailed for a moment before remembering where she was, who she was, and the fact that the crying belonged to the baby she'd just had.

"Oh man, how long were we asleep?" Summer wondered out loud, squinting at the clock as Bucky got up to retrieve Rebecca for her.

Once her eyes finally focused, she read the time on the clock in disbelief. It was 4:48. They hadn't even slept 20 minutes.

She groaned and sunk back into the pillows. "Frick."

Ah, the joys of parenthood. But it was all more than worth it, and of all the things that both Bucky and Summer had lost sleep over during the course of their lives... this was certainly the best.


	70. Epilogue

**A/N: GUYS. GUYS. GUYSSSSS. THIS IS IT. *indiscernible dying whale noises* AAAAAHHHHHHH. I CANNOT BELIEVE THIS DAY HAS COME. **

**So, two years ago this month, I wrote and posted Breath of Life, this story's launching point, and if I had known I'd spend very nearly two years writing an 800k+ sequel (entirely on my phone btw), I probably would have panicked and given up lol. But instead I started this story which was originally meant to be about 30 chapters long and end with Summer's recovery from her leg being crushed and Bucky proposing to her. Midnightwings96 and I initially planned the story up to that point, and then slowly we started adding more and more until one day the idea for a trial happened and then suddenly the fic was monster sized and included like 484849494 different characters, and there was simply no escaping it at that point lol. It just grew and grew and kept going and GOING and now it's over. And I just... I CAN'T BELIEVE ITTTT. I have so much love and gratitude to each and everyone of you readers for staying with this story for so long, both the longtime readers who have been here since the start and new ones who read all five million chapters to get caught up (lol). You are all THE BEST AND I LOVE YOU and can't possibly thank you enough. The same goes for midnightwings96, who is not only the Bucky to my Steve (or maybe the Steve to my Bucky? Idk, could go either way lol) but also the brains behind so much of this story. She helped me countless time I got stuck and couldn't get through certain chapters, came up with pretty much all the best ideas, and is 474838484% of the reason why I am currently word-vomiting all over this epilogue and finally at the end of this lovely fanfic journey. Except, of course, it's not REALLY over ;) but anyway, yeah, she's nothing short of a goddess and I love her. As you guys can tell. Lol :D **

**Two quick notes before I shut up: this isn't the typical epilogue one might expect. It's a reflection of the whole story, which has been dark and difficult and quite angsty at times as well as fluffy and happy and (I hope) sexy, so keep that in mind as you start reading. And consider that a bit of a warning lol (look at me, all cryptic and mysterious woooooooo lol)**

**SECOND: So I promised you all a surprise when the epilogue was posted, and I shall now dramatically reveal said surprise lol. Immediately after posting this, I am going to post the first chapter of my next Bucky/Summer fic that is going to be my primary story. It's called ****_Till Death Do Us Part_****, and holy crap guys, I am EXCITED. It's going to be a full-length AU, probably around 30 chapters (hopefully I stick to that estimate this time lol), and I've never been more excited for a story than I am about this. So hop on over to my profile and take a looksie after you read this epilogue, because it should be up and ready for reading by then :D **

**Again, my huge and eternal thanks to each and every one of you. I love you all, and please leave a review and let me know what you think :) *massive Thor-sized hugs***

_Fall's Church, Virginia, one year later_

There used to be a time that Bucky dreaded waking up in the morning, almost as much as he dreaded going to sleep at night. Nightmares and visions of the life that he had once been forced to live would flash through his head until he awoke gasping, his skin crawling with memories that he couldn't forget no matter how hard he tried, his hands twitching like the blood he'd spilled over the last century was still running over them like a broken faucet.

Those days had been almost unbearably difficult, enough to make any man ready to simply give up and fade into nothingness. But those days were, thank the very heavens above, over now.

Now Bucky was happy when he opened his eyes in the morning, whether it was due to the alarm on his phone blaring him awake or the smell of food wafting in from the kitchen, or as was the case on this particular day, two little girls jumping on him until he finally woke up and paid them the attention that they were demanding.

"Daddy!" three-year old Adelaide squeaked, pulling on his hair as one-year old Rebecca jumped on his back and smacked him furiously with her tiny little open palms. Bucky, lying on his stomach with his shoulder-length hair covering most of his face, smiled to himself and pretended to still be asleep for the time being. It was what he always did when they teamed up on him like this, and he had a feeling it was why they kept doing it.

"Daddy! Wake up!" Adelaide kept yelling at him, resorting to trying to pull on his arm to get his attention. But being made entirely of metal, she couldn't quite make the limb budge, and when Rebecca noticed this she clamored over to help her big sister. Together they tried to yank on his arm, but they were no more successful than Tony Stark attempting to lift Mjolnir.

Cracking his eye open, this was when Bucky decided to finally attack. His arm shot out and wrapped around both of his girls in a flash, and he pulled them to his chest just as they let out happy squeals of sheet surprise.

"I got you both," he laughed, rolling on his side and squeezing them close as they giggled and squirmed in his unyielding grasp. "I win!"

The sound of the loud, happy giggles flowing noisily from the bedroom got the attention of Summer, who quickly made her way from the kitchen to the bedroom doorway only to sigh and say with exasperation, "Addie, I told you to let him sleep! It's his day off!"

"It's okay," Bucky assured her, looking towards the doorway and smiling at what he saw. He'd seen Summer pull off everything from elegant evening gowns to form-fitting business wear and everything in between, but there was always a soft spot in his heart for her with her hair up in a messy bun and comfortably oversized clothes on her frame, and not an inch of makeup in sight.

"Sorry," she smiled, crossing her arms and leaning against the doorway. "Guess I just can't keep them away from you, even with the promise of pancakes."

"It's alright," he grinned down at the two little girls still in his arms. "Not a bad way to wake up."

Adelaide smiled back and squirmed her way out of his arms, pushing back her long dark brown hair from her face and sitting next to him. Rebecca, meanwhile, stayed right where she was and snuggled cozily with her daddy, her wild, bright red curls tickling his chin, and Bucky ran his fingers through it absently as he asked, "Where's David?"

"You can't hear?"

Pausing, Bucky stopped and listened for a moment and quickly identified the pleasant sounds of a piano being played not too far away. He smiled a little. "Oh. Should have figured."

"Yep, it's his morning routine," Summer replied before quietly clapping her hands twice. "Okay, kiddos. Out of bed. Addie, go take your sister back to the kitchen. I'll be there in a minute."

Adelaide huffed but complied anyway, dragging her baby sister out of the bed and leading her out of the room by her hand. At only three, Adelaide was incredibly sharp and at the peak of development for her age, and she loved helping to take care of Rebecca. It was adorable to watch, but it also made Addie even more of a handful, because she didn't seem to realize how tiny she actually was herself.

Once the kids had cleared the room, Bucky weakly held up his right hand and whined, "Help me up?"

Summer grinned and crossed her arms again. "Seriously?"

He nodded and pouted a little. "I'm tired. I'm an old man, remember?"

She rolled her eyes and headed his way anyway, pointing out, "This is the most obvious trick in the entire world. You should be ashamed."

"It's not a trick," he lied, smiling as he continued to reach for her. "I'm 104."

"You're _actually_ like... 35. Maybe."

She then slipped her hand into his, and just like she had known he would, he immediately yanked her down and pulled her into the bed with him. She landed on his chest with a giggle and he rolled them both over on their sides, grinning with her and then kissing her laughter away as he held her close.

"You're getting predictable in your old age," she teased him, running her fingers through his gloriously long if not slightly tangled hair.

"Yeah? Well you're just getting sexier in yours," he said, subtly sliding his right hand up the front of her shirt until she gasped in mock offense and smacked it away.

"Did you just call me _old_?!" she demanded, glaring at him with wide, outraged eyes. "I'm 33! I could still have like... ten more babies if I wanted to!"

"Ten, huh?" he chuckled, eyebrows shooting up his forehead. "I don't think this house is big enough for ten more kids."

"I was just making a point," she smiled. "So take it back."

"Take what back?"

"That I'm old!"

"You _know_ I don't think you're old, baby," he purred, that hand of his sliding up her shirt again, this time along her side. "You're 70 years younger than me. It's like that stupid vampire movie you made me watch with the girl that can't ever close her mouth."

"_Twilight_," Summer reminded him, "and I didn't make you watch it, Tony did. And you're the one who then insisted on watching all five movies."

"Well, if I was gonna waste my time with the first one, I at least wanted to see how it ended," he shrugged innocently.

"Yeah, yeah. Just admit it. You think Robert Pattinson's hot."

"... Who?"

"Edward," she rolled her eyes.

"Oh. No. Honestly... I didn't think any of them were hot," he shrugged.

"You never think anyone's hot. It's annoying and adorable at the same time, because I don't _want_ you to want anyone else but at the same time, your lack of opinions drives me nuts."

"I have opinions," he argued. "The girl from _Star Trek_."

"Uhura?" Summer guessed.

He furrowed his brows. "No. Rey, I think."

"Oh! You mean _Star Wars_, you dork," she giggled.

"Whatever," he grumbled. "Star something. But yeah, that girl. She's pretty. Kinda looks like you, too."

"... You think I look like her?" Summer asked with disbelief. "I wish."

"You're better than her," he assured her. "And your body is..." he trailed off and grinned as his eyes dropped down her body and slowly made their way back up to her face, making a show of it. "_Much different_. But your eyes are similar. And your smile."

She grinned and blushed a little. "Well... thanks. You know, you kinda look like someone, too."

"Who?" Bucky asked, amused.

"Remember the space movie where the guy got stuck on Mars?"

Bucky stared at her for a moment. "... That guy looks _nothing_ like me."

"Not Matt Damon!" she giggled. "One of the other guys. The one who had the baby with the girl in the end."

Bucky tried to remember the person she was referring to and finally just shrugged and said, "I don't remember. I'll just have to take your word for it."

"Gosh, you _are_ an old man," she teased, leaning in and giving him a short but sweet little kiss. He chuckled and then pulled her back when she tried to pull away, kissing her more deeply and over and over until she broke the kiss with a breathless, "_Stop_. The girls are being disturbingly quiet and we gotta get up. Lots to do today."

"That's right," he smiled. "Becca's birthday's today."

"Yep. And you're getting me behind schedule," she said, patting his chest and attempting to get up. When he simply pulled her back down, she playfully smacked him again and giggled, "Oh my gosh, _stop_! I have balloons to blow up!"

He raised an eyebrow. "I can think of at least ten dirty things I could say to that."

"Well, don't," she laughed. "Come on. Get up and help me decorate."

"Fine," he gave in, letting her go. But because she was a little tease, she rolled on top of him on her way off the bed, and when a light little push of her hips against his revealed a condition he'd been suffering with since he'd first pulled her into the bed, she giggled and he groaned.

"Looks like you're gonna need a cold shower first," she grinned, giving him one more kiss.

He scoffed. "Why would I do that when I could take a hot one instead and get myself off thinking about what I'm gonna do to you later, once everyone's asleep?"

Her blush was instant, and he loved how easily he could still make her blush after all the time they'd spent together.

"Well, um... okay. Just don't take too long," she said, rolling off of him and the bed, getting to her feet. "Lots to do!"

"Yeah, yeah," he smiled, watching her shoot him another grin as she sauntered away. He watched her until she disappeared from his view, at which point he let out a small, breathy chuckle and shook his head.

_Yeah_, life was pretty fucking great, he had to admit.

The rest of the day was a cheerful, busy blur, full of balloons and last-minute gift wrapping and Summer putting the finishing touches on the cake that she baked, because apparently store-bought cakes just wouldn't cut it. Rebecca was blissfully unaware of all the fuss, lost to all of it and really only caring about all the balloons. She and Adelaide had a balloon war while David helped Bucky tape up all the decorations, the happy birthday banner and lots of little dangling stars and hearts of many colors. Rebecca seemed to be partial to the colors green and purple, so most of the decor was split between those two particular colors, since Summer wouldn't have it any other way.

Steve and Natasha was coming later for the birthday party, Wanda and Tony too, and possibly a few of the others if circumstances allowed. Once everything was ready a full three hours early, Summer suggested they pass the time by taking the kids to the park and letting them run around to their heart's content until it was party time.

So, with his left arm disguised and his hair thrown up in a mildly careless bun, Bucky left their still-new house with the whole family in tow and headed to the park. They had moved in a few months earlier, when construction had been completed, and he loved living there as much as Summer did. It was tucked so far away from the rest of the world and was so _quiet - _in the nice way rather than the eerie way - and the fact that they were once again living where he had first found Summer just felt _right_.

He loved their new, slightly quieter life in Virginia. He was working again and was officially part of _the team_ again, but his work was even more behind the scenes and clandestine than it had been the first time around. He worked with Steve at the new DC compound, helped train new (and terrified) recruits, led the occasional mission that Steve could only trust him with, and all in all, he was happy with his new job. Steve had him in the database as both _Agent James Buchanan Barnes _and as an Avenger, but Bucky still didn't consider himself the latter. Avengers were public figures that the world looked up to and kids idolized, and he was sure he'd never be that. He didn't _want_ to be that. He was more than grateful and content with what he had, more than he had ever been before.

Being able to just get up and go to the park with his wife and kids was a luxury that he would never take for granted. So was getting to watch his little girl turn a year old.

With the girls in a double stroller and Summer pushing them down the sidewalk, Bucky walked by her side with David trailing in front of them, engrossed on a game on his phone. He was 12 now and increasingly independent, a fantastic student in both music and history and even math, thanks partially to Bucky's help on the subject. He still rarely spoke, and if he did it was usually to one or both of his sisters, but neither of his parents minded. He'd recently told them that he wanted to be a concert pianist when he grew up, and they had no doubt that he could do it.

Once they got to the park, the girls scrambled out of their stroller and ran off like lightning bolts to the playground. Adelaide whined and pulled on David's sleeve until he gave in and got off his phone to go push her on the swing, and Rebecca made herself at home in the sandbox, her usual preferred place at the park.

The best part of going to the park, Bucky thought, was watching Summer's inner kid come out once she got near the swings. She would get on the same one every time and have a blast swinging as high as she could go, sometimes squealing when he'd get behind her and give her a push that made the whole swing set shake.

It was the same park that she had frequented as a kid with her brother and grandmother, after her parents had died. She had happy memories there, and while it made her miss her grandma even more than it usually did, she loved going there and watching her kids run around just like she had at their age, and David before them. And Bucky just loved seeing her _happy_.

By the time that the kids had used up all their energy and the deadline for the party was fast approaching, the sun was hanging low in the sky and the already-cool temperatures were getting colder. Rebecca curled up in the double stroller with her little purple coat and fell asleep as soon as the wheels started moving again. Adelaide was next to succumb to the mighty pull of the toddler nap, and as the little family made their way home, Bucky listened to Summer ramble about her job and about four other seemingly unrelated topics.

"I just, I don't know. This telecommuting thing is tough sometimes. I'm so used to being there in the middle of the action, you know? But at the same time, I am able to get almost all my work done from here, and Pepper was amazing to let me keep my job even though we left New York. I just can't micromanage as much as I'd like to."

"Maybe that's a good thing," Bucky shrugged as they walked. "Nobody likes a micromanager."

"Psh, my assistants love me," Summer scoffed with a good natured laugh. "Even when I make them go to ridiculous lengths to make sure everything turns out exactly how I want."

Bucky smiled and then couldn't help but say, "You're amazing, you know that?"

She smiled back and met his gaze. "Oh really?"

"Yeah, really," he smiled back. "How you work and write and cook and keep the house up is just... I don't know how you do it."

Summer's smile grew even warmer and she looked away, shaking her head slightly. "I don't know either, honestly. I just do it all and hope for the best."

He smiled back and wrapped an arm around her waist, leaning in close to press a kiss to her neck and make her giggle. Then, when he raised his head back up, he spotted a mm on the other side of the street looking their way as he walked in the opposite direction as them. The man quickly looked away, and Bucky told himself to stop being paranoid and checking the perimeter every five seconds. But old habits died hard and that was one he'd never quite been able to shake.

One block later, there were two more people who glanced their way before moving on, this time a man and a woman. Bucky told himself once again that nothing was wrong and that he was making himself worry for no reason, but something felt strange in his gut. And he had learned long ago never to ignore his gut.

More than halfway home now, he simply kept walking and kept subtly checking their surroundings, without saying anything and needlessly worrying Summer or David. He was nearly convinced that the coast really was clear and that it had all been in his head when they stepped off a curb to cross the street. But the minute his foot hit the pavement, a black nondescript car suddenly zoomed directly in front of them and hit the brakes, making Bucky freeze with alarm and Summer let out a small scream of very understandable surprise and fear. The car was within an _inch_ of the stroller carrying their two littlest kids.

Then, before either of them had a chance to breathe, more cars came and skidded to a halt, boxing them in on the corner of the curb. Bucky acted quickly, throwing David behind him first and then Summer and the stroller, shielding them and watching as the cars opened and gun-wielding men began to pour from them.

They advanced on the little family quickly, shouting in Russian that only Bucky could understand. Most of the men were masked, yelling at him to put up his hand and get on the ground or else they'd put a bullet in each of the people who were with him. The noise awoke both Adelaide and Rebecca with a start, both of them opening their wide eyes and staring at the situation in complete bewilderment.

Bucky put up his hands, icy cold fear and shock mingling with adrenaline as he immediately began to analyze the situation from a tactical perspective. There were about ten men present, all of them armed to to their teeth, likely Russian intelligence or perhaps hired mercenaries for whoever wanted Bucky dead this time. He could take them out no problem, but the issue was the fact that Summer and their children were directly behind him and hideously vulnerable.

"Summer, you know that thing we practiced?" he asked under his breath.

"Y-yeah," Summer replied shakily, her voice as unstable as her entire body.

"Count to three and do it."

She squeezed her eyes shut, took a deep breath as she counted to three, and then she reached under the back of Bucky's jacket and grabbed the gun that was hidden in a special holster that was built into all of his jackets. She then exhaled and aimed around Bucky, firing the trigger four times and hitting three of her targets before they even had a chance to see where the gunfire was coming from. Then, in a move that they had practiced many times, she tossed the gun up into the air and he caught it by the handle, taking over from there as he started firing and the men started firing back.

"Get out of here, run!" he yelled to both Summer and David, and they immediately scrambled to obey as the fight truly began. More men descended out of nowhere, from across the street and behind a number of houses, all converging on him and trying to subdue him but not kill him. They were there to capture him, which was possibly even more concerning than a simple assassin situation.

Two men with automatic weapons stopped Summer and the kids from escaping. One grabbed David and the other went for Summer, who screamed as loudly as she could and distracted Bucky, making him turn his head and look just long enough to get hit _hard_ in the back of the head with the barrel of a gun.

He hit the ground in a daze, catching himself on his left hand and then forcing himself to look up towards his family. What he saw - Summer being held by a man nearly twice her size and David struggling against his own captor, both of them with guns to their heads as Addie and Rebecca both screamed and cried from their stroller in terror - it sparked a blistering rage in him that he felt in his very bones.

"Let them go," he growled, getting back up to his feet. "You want me, not them. Let them go and I'll go with you."

The man who appeared to be in charge paused before nodding to the men holding Summer and David, and they let them go. Summer immediately grabbed David with one arm and the stroller with the other, looking on in horror as Bucky was shoved down to his knees on the pavement.

It was happening again, only this time Bucky wasn't being arrested by the U.S. government. He was being taken by a nameless and faceless group of highly trained Russians who obviously had clear orders to bring him in alive, and that meant that God only knew what kind of horrors were in his future.

And his entire family was there just to watch. His two little girls were so, _so_ scared, their faces and cries unbearable, and Summer and David were both white as sheets as they watched Bucky being taken from them yet again. But this was the only thing that he could do to keep them safe.

His eyes locked with Summer's as they dragged him back up to his feet, he felt his heart shatter inside along with all the hope and joy that he'd spent the last year believing was real and could last. It could never last, not being who he was, and he just kept _hurting_ her and the people he loved most. _Over and over and over_.

Then something happened that Bucky could have never in a million years foresaw or prevented. David, on the verge of hysteria and full of panic and _rage_, tried to do something to save his dad from being taken away again. He lunged at the man closest to him and tried to grab the gun holstered at his side. He got both hands on the handle of the gun just as Summer screamed at him to stop, but he either didn't hear her or didn't care. He yanked on the gun, and the man yanked back, pulling the gun free and causing a struggle to ensue.

"_David, no_!" Bucky yelled, hoarse and horrified, but it was too late to stop it. David inadvertently aimed the thing at himself and the much stronger man grazed the trigger with two fingers. A shot rang out and the whole world stood still as David's brown eyes went wide with shock and all the blood drained from his face.

The sound that ripped out of Bucky's throat was utterly inhuman as his son, his precious little adopted son who had been _his_ for seven years, hit the ground with a hole in his chest and bright red blood pouring out of it. He barely heard Summer's own scream, didn't see her face twist into an unbearable mixture of shock and horror and complete _brokenness_, and he missed the way that Adelaide stopped crying entirely as she stared dumbfounded at her brother's body on the pavement. He missed it all because he then _roared_ with fury and shock and whipped around, breaking the restraints they'd put on his wrists and snapping the necks of the two men who had been holding him.

He was out of control. He killed them all one by one in the most brutal but efficient of ways, literally punching a hole into a few of their chests and smashing the skulls of others. He didn't stop until they were all dead and in lifeless piles all around them, the street now quiet save for the chest-racking, inconsolable sobs of a mother who had just lost her firstborn child.

Bucky moved forward numbly and dropped on his knees in front of Summer, who was cradling David's limp and pale body and letting out the kind of bone-deep and excruciating cries that only a grieving and shocked parent could. Her hands were covered in his blood, her whole life shattered and destroyed right there in the middle of the street, and another life that had possessed endless potential and talent and _so much love_ was gone.

It was his fault. _It was his fault_. Bucky had done this. It was him. It was always him, he had always put them in danger, and now the unthinkable had finally happened. His little boy was gone. Summer's little boy was gone.

_He was gone._

"No," he whimpered, his voice barely recognizable under the weight of his grief. "No... no, _no, God please, no_..."

_No no no no no_...

His vision blurred at the edges and he could feel himself falling. He knew he was losing consciousness, knew that it was all too much, wished that he wouldn't wake up and that he could just cease to exist along with David, like he deserved.

_No no no no no no_.

"Bucky?"

He could hear her voice, but he didn't think it was real because it was steady and she wasn't sobbing. She sounded calm, like herself, and not like she had just watched her firstborn child be murdered before her.

"Bucky, wake up. You're dreaming. Wake up."

His eyes flew open and he shot up with a strangled, horrified, throat-burning cry. His eyes were wide with confusion and panic, darting around the room - his bedroom - and finally landing on Summer, sitting next to him in bed and watching him with nothing but concern etched on her face.

"Calm down," she told him quietly, reaching out to soothe a hand over his arm. "Whatever it was, it was just a dream. It wasn't real."

_It wasn't real_.

He let out a groan that quickly turned into a sob as he dropped his face down into his hands and _cried_. It had been so real, so incredibly, horribly real, but it wasn't. It had all been in his head. David was alive. Everyone was safe.

But he still felt that pain in his heart, as vividly as if a knife was being plunged into its center over and over, and he couldn't help but succumb to that emotional overload and let it run its course. Summer, having no idea what in the world he dreamed to have affected him so unprecedentedly badly, reached out and held him in her arms and soothed him until he calmed down.

He could still see David, still see the moment the bullet hit him, could still feel the rage and hatred he'd felt as he ripped the men apart like an animal. He could still see it all as clearly as anything else in front of him, and he knew that he would never forget it.

But he had to let it go. It was a nightmare - worse than all the others he had ever experienced - and _thank God_ that was all it had been.

In reality, he _was_ in his and Summer's newly built house. All of the circumstances of his dream were still true. It _was_ Rebecca's first birthday today, and if was also his day off. In fact, he had slept in until 11 - a personal record for him - and while he had been dreaming of the worst thing imaginable, Summer had been keeping the girls happy and occupied so they wouldn't wake him the way they had in the dream.

"It's okay," she cooed, running her fingers through his sweat-soaked long hair and gently rubbing his back, just like she would for one of their kids. "Everything's fine, I promise."

"Where's David?" he asked, face half buried in his own hands and half in Summer's shoulder. He knew that he was fine, but he just... he just needed to _hear the words_.

"He's in the music room," Summer replied in slight surprise, "playing piano like he always does in the morning. Can't you hear?"

Just like he had in the dream, Bucky paused and listened. When he heard the sound of the piano playing, he let out a deep breath of relief and nodded. "He's okay."

"... Bucky, what did you dream?" Summer asked in slight horror.

Bucky finally raised his head at that point, wiping his eyes and nose with the back of his right hand and shaking his head. "I"ll never put it in words. Don't ask me to. I can't. I can't -"

"Okay," Summer nodded, briefly putting up her hands in surrender. "Okay. I won't ask you to. I'm sorry. I just..."

He looked up at her, finally meeting her eyes and seeing a flash of her from his dream, of her sitting on the sidewalk, her face almost unrecognizable in her grief and incomprehensible sounds leaving her mouth as she cradled...

He pulled her close and wrapped her in his arms, squeezing his eyes shut as he held her and swore to himself for the thousandth time to never let anything like his dream happen to her or their children in real life. She was his world - his _family_ was his world - and his chief purpose in life was to protect them and keep them safe. He would die trying if he had to.

"I love you," he murmured against her ear, meaning those words with every fiber of his being.

"I love you too," she replied, still a little bewildered but understanding the gist of what had happened. She knew what it was like to have nightmares too terrible to say out loud. She still had them herself, in fact. They had both been through too much in their lives to not carry pieces of their traumatic memories with them and sometimes, while they slept, have them manifest in unspeakably terrible dreams.

It was just the nature of being survivors. The key was still managing to get out bed and face the day each morning, not letting the fear and the anxiety and the horror of it all incapacitate them and keep them from living their lives. It wasn't always easy, and sometimes it was damn near impossible - especially that particular morning, for Bucky - but it wasn't in either of their natures to give in or give up. So they didn't, even when it was harder than it ever should have been.

When they drew away from each other, Summer let out a soft breath and tucked some of his hair behind his ear. "Let's get out of bed, okay? Breakfast is done and I saved you some coffee. We can eat out on the deck if you want some fresh air."

Bucky nodded. "Yeah. Okay." Then he paused and took a deep breath, pushing his hair back on his head with both hands before exhaling and adding quietly, "I'll be there in a minute. Something I gotta do first."

"Okay," she nodded, leaning in and leaving a small, sweet kiss on his lips before carefully making her way out of the bed. Once she was standing, she looked back down at him and asked with a frown, "Are you sure you're okay?"

"No," he laughed hollowly, just a breathless, humorless sound. "But I will be."

Summer understood that on a level so deep that it hurt. She knew that he knew this, so she offered him a small smile and a nod before turning and leaving.

He let out a deep, tired breath and closed his eyes. He _hated_ mornings like these. But the only way to move on and feel better was to get up and get going, and that was exactly what he did, making one very important pit stop along the way.

After getting up and getting dressed and already feeling a little more human thanks to the act of simply moving and getting ready for the day, Bucky quietly made his way to the room that housed his piano and a few other instruments that David had expressed interest in over the last few years. The piano was still David's first love, however, and when Bucky quietly pushed open the already-open door and peeked inside, he felt that sense of peace return to him that he had been waiting for since his nightmare had ended.

David looked up at him when he noticed him standing there, but his fingers didn't pause once. Instead he simply smiled and scooted over on the bench in a wordless, familiar invitation that Bucky accepted without blinking. It was their own little tradition, something they'd been doing for nearly six years now, and while David had long surpassed Bucky in skill and really was on his way to his dream of being a concert pianist, it didn't mean that either of them enjoyed playing together any less.

And when they finished their little impromptu duet, when Bucky gave David a hug that was a tad longer and tighter than usual, David didn't question it.

Bucky was going to hug _everyone_ today a little tighter, he knew that much.

Then, after he finally made his way to the kitchen and sat down to eat breakfast with his family, the rest of the day took a much different direction than the one in his dream. While his dream had been almost unerringly perfect in how the birthday party had come together, real life was much more, well... _real_.

The birthday cake that Summer baked just after breakfast was inadvertently ruined when she misread the baking time on the recipe and burned it, which was a very rare thing for her to do. She blamed Loki the cat for the mishap, since he had brought a live mouse into the house and caused the Great Panic of the Year while the cake was just starting to burn and give off the telltale burnt scent. Summer had been too busy holding a screaming Adelaide and screeching at Bucky to just kill the vermin, but then David, ever the peacemaker, rescued the mouse and freed it outside rather than letting Loki continue to torture it or Bucky smash it with his fist.

Then, in a panicked rush, Summer started calling around different bakeries in town looking for a birthday cake decorated with green and purple that was already made and available right then. Upon finding exactly one offering such a thing, they all then piled into their SUV and kicked off the Great Birthday Cake Adventure of the Year.

After Summer's GPS on her phone led them to not one but two wrong locations, they finally found the damn bakery only to discover that the purple and green cake was actually a giant Buzz Lightyear-themed cake, complete with his grinning face right on the surface. While David might have enjoyed a Buzz cake, Rebecca had no clue who Buzz Lightyear was, so they were back to square one.

Five calls and two fruitless trips to other bakeries later, Summer finally found a solid purple cake that was girly and pretty enough to fit the bill. Then she bought green tubes of icing and little shiny candies to decorate it further, and then they all jammed back into the car to head home.

Except then the car wouldn't start, because the battery was dead.

An hour later, after roadside assistance had come and given them a jump, they were finally back on the road. By then the kids were starving, so they got drive-thru and then parked so Summer could nurse Rebecca in the car while everyone chowed down. But then Adelaide's cheeseburger ended up lacking actual cheese and Summer's fries looked like they had been cooked some time back when Nixon had been in office, so Bucky was tasked with going in and getting everything fixed. He was typically loathe to go into a place so incredibly public, but he had his handy dandy impenetrable disguise of a baseball hat on hand, so he shoved it down on his head and headed inside.

After complaining - politely, of course - to the person at the front counter, Bucky shoved his hands in his pockets and waited off to the side as the two items were fixed. Nobody paid him any mind save for a little boy who was there in line with his parents and wouldn't stop staring at him.

Bucky glanced at the kid and quickly looked away, doing his best to ignore him. The kid was maybe 7 or 8 and, upon closer inspection, was wearing a Captain America t-shirt.

_Great_. He might have been spotted after all, even with the brilliant disguise on his head.

As the staff took approximately ten years to make a new cheeseburger, Bucky continued to ignore the kid with great determination. But he cracked when the parents walked by to get their cups filled at the drink station, leaving the kid standing there behind them just long enough for him to reach up and poke Bucky on the arm. On his _metal_ arm.

Bucky looked down and the kid leaned up on the tips of his toes to whisper conspiratorially, "I know who you are."

Bucky stifled a groan and looked away. "I'm nobody, kid."

"You're Bucky," the kid whispered. "You're Captain America's best friend."

Bucky sighed and had opened his mouth fully prepared to tell the kid to scram when he then quickly added, "My mom and dad says you're bad, but they're wrong. It's not your fault you killed a bunch of people. You're a good guy, and your arm is _awesome_."

Bucky was dumbfounded, staring at the kid with his mouth slightly open, and then suddenly the kid's mother was rushing over and admonishing him not to talk to strangers while glaring at Bucky as if he'd been doing anything but just _standing_ there. But the kid smiled and gave him the thumbs-up as he was dragged away, and Bucky couldn't help but smile back.

After grabbing the food when it was finally ready, he headed back to the car and got in with his smile still stuck on his face. "What's got you smiling like that?" Summer asked, intrigued since typically trips out anywhere resulted in him scowling and counting the minutes until he could get away from the public eye.

"Nothing," he shrugged, presenting her with her new fries. "Here. They upgraded you to a large."

"Ooh!" Summer grinned, taking the fries and devouring them in about two minutes while also instantly forgetting her plans to further interrogate her husband. She was a nursing mother, after all, and french fries were no laughing matter.

After they finally got home a little under an hour later, it suddenly hit Summer how far behind schedule she was, and Bucky beheld the woman in all her panicking glory as she ran around like a chicken with its head cut off getting everything ready for the party on time. Bucky and David helped where they could, both watching in somewhat horrified awe as she tore around and mumbled to herself and somehow ended up actually getting the whole thing ready on time, before the first knock on the door came.

She wasn't the head event planner at Stark Industries for nothing, after all.

More folks came than either Bucky or Summer expected. Steve and Natasha were the first to arrive, as per usual, and Addie and Rebecca both bypassed Steve in favor of clobbering "Aunite Nat" with hugs and kisses. David making a beeline for Steve made him feel a little better, however, although then he was laughing again when he tried to pet Loki and got hissed at in response.

After that, Tony arrived with Pepper and, the very minute he walked through the door, Rebecca's eyes lit up and she squealed with pure joy as she ran into his arms. Tony had finally achieved his goal of being the favorite of one of the kids, and he ate it up like candy (while, of course, gloating to Steve every chance he got).

Sam, Darcy, and Vision were all back in New York holding down the fort, but Wanda accompanied the others and made her first official trip to the new house. It had been a long time - too long - since she had even stepped foot inside of a real house, and David personally led her on a tour of the place and also quarantined her in the music room for awhile so that he could show off how much his piano skills had improved. They still communicated silently all the time, and she was still one of his very favorite people in the whole world. _Definitely_ top five. He had once asked a few years earlier completely seriously if Bucky and Summer could adopt her and make her his actual sister, and when they said they couldn't, he had actually cried for a solid ten minutes.

But she was a part of the family in every way that truly counted. From her connection with David to the way that her and Bucky were bonded in ways that transcended logic thanks to the way they had lived through each other's memories during his _Sputnik_ ordeal, not to mention how close she and Summer had also become over the last few years, she was one of _them_ and that was just the way it was.

For two people who each had so little family to speak of, Summer and Bucky were more grateful than mere words could express for every last person who came to watch their little girl turn one. The ones who couldn't come sent gifts, and Paul, who still had a few years left in his fellowship in New York, got on Skype with Sarah and a handful of their kids to watch the best parts of the party - the opening of presents and the Great Cake Smashing.

But, as was the case with a lot of one-year-olds, Rebecca wasn't especially interested in actually opening the presents, and when Summer put her in her high chair with the cake right in front of her, Rebecca merely stared at it before quickly growing bored and trying to crawl out of the highchair. When Summer took Rebecca's tiny hand and dipped it into the cake, trying to coax some kind of reaction out of her, that only made the poor child burst into tears. Bucky picked her up and rescued her while playfully scolding Summer for being such a mean mother.

As Bucky consoled Rebecca following the let-down of a cake smashing, Summer sighed and then nearly screamed from being startled when there was a sudden very loud and nearly destructive knock on the door. Everyone whom she had been expecting had already arrived, but when she left the kitchen and spotted the bright blonde head smiling on the other side of the front door, she let out an excited squeak and ran to it and threw it open.

"_Thor_!"

"Am I late?" Thor laughed, catching Summer when she jumped in his arms and gave him an enthusiastic hug.

"No, not really," she replied, letting him go and pulling him inside. "You missed the cake part, but she didn't really want it anyway, so..."

"Ah, cake! Did you make it?" Thor asked excitedly, only to watch Summer's face fall and shake her head.

"No... it's store bought," she admitted with slight shame. "Today's been one disaster after another. I burned the cake I made and then the car wouldn't start and... yeah, but anyway, holy crap! You came!"

Thor grinned and followed her into the dining room, where all the others were. "Of course I did! And I brought a gift for the little one!"

As soon as Thor's booming voice was heard, familiar chaos followed. The kids all freaked out and jumped on him, all the adults greeted him loudly and received hugs that nearly left them paralyzed, and Paul and Sarah - still watching on Skype from a laptop propped up on the table - whistled and catcalled at the Asgardian until he took notice and then roared with laughter.

Nothing was ever quite complete without Thor, and his constant absences made Summer enjoy his visits all the more. But Rebecca didn't know him nearly as well as her siblings, and when she spotted his tall frame and heard his deep, rumbling voice, she turned her face into Bucky's chest and hid from him, even when he tried to present her with a gift.

"Ah, she's a shy one," Thor chuckled, handing the little present to Bucky. "I won't try to force it if she's not comfortable. But I will win her over one of these days."

"Yeah, well, I've already claimed the title of favorite, so don't get any ideas," Tony warned. "By the way, what _is_ that thing?"

Pointing to the toy in Bucky's hand, Thor replied, "It is a rattle! Now, I know that she is possibly too old for such a trinket, but it is no ordinary rattle. On the top, you will see, is a little mirror." Bucky looked at the little circular mirror, and then Thor instructed, "Shake it."

Bucky did, and then his eyes widened in surprise when suddenly Summer was looking back at him, smiling as if in a picture. "Uh..."

"See? It is enchanted to show the person using it the people they love most," Thor explained cheerfully. "It's a common gift for infants in my world because it offers quite a bit of comfort when the child is separated from their parents or anxious. They shake it and see their mother and father, brothers and sisters and so on."

"Holy frick," Summer said, darting just behind Bucky so she could see the mysterious rattle. "So it's a toy with a magic mirror?"

"Yes, essentially," Thor beamed.

Bucky shook it again, and this time he was looking at the smiling faces of all three of his kids. "... It's like the moving pictures in Harry Potter!" Summer gasped softly. "I want one!"

Thor chuckled, "Well, it works for whomever is currently holding it, so you can certainly share with her."

"It's kind of a dangerous idea, if you think about it," Natasha mused. "If you ever thought you were being cheated on, that thing would be a good way of testing your partner."

"Yeah, don't let Steve shake it," Tony nodded to Nat. "Instead of you, it would show Barnes. Covered in whipped cream. Maybe a banana too, God only knows where."

While Bucky and Steve both rolled his eyes, Thor said, "It doesn't show obscene images. Though... there are certain items made for adults that are more... questionable."

Bucky was the first to raise an eyebrow and ask, "What kind of items?"

"Yeah, what kind of stuff are we talking here?" Tony asked.

"Nothing I can speak of in our current company," Thor smiled. "Although one day soon, perhaps you can all find out for yourselves." When everyone merely eyed him in slight confusion, he added with an increasingly enormous smile, "I have news."

"What news?" Summer gasped. She was doing a lot of gasping that day, it seemed.

"I am getting married!"

Summer's jaw dropped, along with the jaw of almost everyone else present. "You are?!" she blurted.

"To who?" Steve asked, looking more confused than he had about anything in a long time.

"Jane Foster?" Tony guessed. "Hot space nerd lady?"

Thor's smile faltered a little at that, and he shook his head gently. "No, we... she and I parted ways some time ago. You all remember Lady Sif, yes?"

David nodded vigorously. He remembered her from one of his birthdays, specifically the one where Thor dressed up as a princess and they all had a massive water gun war. Sif had come for a visit, and he would forever remember her as a tall and terrifying but incredibly kind lady from space.

"Well, she and I have been close friends since we were children, and I'm ashamed to say that I was rather oblivious of her feelings for a very long time. While I had conquest after conquest, being the arrogant Prince that I was, she was always there for me despite my idiocy. My mother always wanted us to be together, and ever since she passed... more and more I have come to realize how right she was."

"Sounds like something from a movie," Natasha grinned. "Congratulations."

One by one, everyone echoed Natasha's sentiment, and Summer went a step further and gave him another excited hug before asking the next question on everyone's minds. "So, when's the big date?"

"Well, let's see, adjusting for how time passes here on Midgard... four months' time," he smiled.

"That soon? Oh wow, you guys must have epic wedding planners in Asgard."

"Of course!" Thor laughed. "Perhaps when you meet a few of them, you can trade tips."

Summer smiled before furrowing her brows in confusion. "Wait, what?"

Thor laughed as if she was a small, confused child and proclaimed, "You are all invited, of course!"

Summer then proceeded to scream with such excitement, she was fairly sure that she hadn't made such a noise since she had seen Justin Timberlake in concert as a teenager. She actually jumped up and down a little bit - Bucky laughing at her enthusiasm while also staring at her chest, because, well, she was _jumping up and down _\- and then she hugged Thor _again_, kissed him on the cheek, and exclaimed, "Oh my God, this is the best day ever! I can't believe it's finally happening! We're going to Asgard!"

Thor smiled brightly at her joyous, silly outbursts, growing even happier thanks to _her_ happiness. "Yes, I am just as thrilled as you are. Not just because soon I will be wed, but because I will finally get to bring my friends to my world. I can hardly wait."

Summer rocked back and forth on her heels, only vaguely noticing David standing next to her doing the same thing. He was just as excited as she was, if not more, and he almost looked like he was going to pass out from sheer exhilaration.

Bucky simply smiled and watched his wife and son mutually freak out, loving seeing them so happy and excited. He was excited too, being from a time where the idea of space travel was laughed at and the idea of a place like Asgard actually existing was _unheard_ of. Now Bucky, who used to be just a kid from the early 20th century trying to get by and make something of himself until he literally fell into the wrong hands, was gonna get to literally travel across the universe on a rainbow bridge and visit an alien planet.

_Damn_ the future was weird. He had expected flying cars and he got the Bifrost instead.

The rest of the party went by in a happy, joyful blur, everyone brimming with excitement over the prospect of visiting Asgard and watching Thor marry his lady. Tony was excited to find out that weddings in Asgard were basically week-long parties, or revels as Thor called them, and that since Thor was a Prince, the party would be even more insane. Natasha found the prospect of visiting a place where the citizens didn't automatically distrust her and view her as an untrustworthy double agent at best quite refreshing, and Steve already planned on bringing a lot of paper so that he could sketch _everything_ he saw. Wanda was just as excited, though she wished that her brother was still with her so that he could come too. He would have adored it and probably challenged all the finest warriors to races they had no hope of winning, just so he could be a jerk and laugh at them about it.

Summer, meanwhile, was simply vibrating with pleasantly nervous energy all night long. She eventually bade the guests farewell, including Thor who hitched a ride to New York on Tony's jet rather than simply fly there himself, and she gave them all extra tight hugs for coming and sharing her sweet little daughter's first birthday with her. Her cheeks ached from smiling so much, and she could still hardly believe that she was really going to Asgard.

After throwing away all the torn wrapping paper and various trash that inevitably followed a birthday party, Summer got the two little ones in the bathtub and got them ready for bed. Bucky put away all of Rebecca's new toys - including a "baby's first bow and arrow" set sent through the mail from Clint, which was purple and decorated by him in Hawkeye stickers, because he was _Clint_ \- and even though David was a little too old for it now, he tucked him in bed and read him a story. He hadn't forgotten about his nightmare from that morning, and he did it more to comfort himself than anything else.

It was nearly midnight by the time all the kids were finally asleep. David had his own room to sleep in, and Rebecca had in the last few weeks graduated to a crib in a room that she shared with Adelaide. She still woke up once or twice a night to nurse, but the girls' room was right next to Summer and Bucky's and it wasn't too much of an ordeal to go in and grab her and then put her back to bed once she was happy and snoozing again. Some nights she still slept in their room, snuggled in Summer's arms or lying in the middle between her parents, but for the most part, she was adapting well to sleeping on her own.

And so, with all of the kids knocked out, Summer dragged herself to her own bed where Bucky was already waiting for her. She flopped down on her back and stared at the ceiling wide-eyed as she said, "We're going to Asgard."

Bucky chuckled and reached for her, pulling her close against his chest and kissing her temple. "You're gonna be saying that nonstop for the next four months, aren't you?"

"Well, _yeah_, because... we're going to fricking Asgard!" she exclaimed with a laugh. Then her smile fell. "Oh God. I don't have anything to wear. What do they wear in Asgard? Like, the normal people? Oh man, I should have asked Thor. I need to go shopping."

Bucky chuckled again and shook his head. "You're gonna be _fine_. Don't worry about it."

Mind racing a mile a minute, Summer then said, "Think of all the people we'll meet. Oh my gosh. It's gonna be insane." Then she gasped and brought both hands to her face before dramatically whispering, "_Loki_! We're gonna meet _Loki!_"

"... I thought he was dead."

"_No_, he's alive, remember? Thor told us that like, forever ago. And _ooh_! Holy crap! We'll get to meet his lady, too! Aemilia. The one who made us all the potions! I might never be able to sleep again, I'm _that_ excited."

"Oh my God," Bucky laughed. "Calm down. They're just people."

"No they're not," Summer argued. "They're Asgardians. _Hot_ Asgardians. I mean, I haven't seen her, but since Loki's... just... _beautiful_, I assume she's crazy hot."

"I still don't get your thing with him," Bucky shrugged. "Seriously. There's nothing that great about him."

"Well, when we see him in person, you're gonna see how wrong you are. And then you'll finally have to admit that he's hot as frick."

"20 bucks says I won't," Bucky replied.

"You're on," Summer said, shaking his hand to seal the deal. "Nobody can honestly look at that man and say he's unattractive. Not even you."

Bucky shook his head. "Nope."

"Yep."

"Not gonna happen."

"It's totally gonna happen." She then gulped and said, "How the heck am I supposed to meet him and actually _speak_? I can barely talk as it is. I'm probably gonna take one look at him and be like '_Hi, I'm Summer, I named my cat after you and used to have super inappropriate thoughts about you after you tried to literally conquer my planet and yes, I'm a psycho_.' I'm doomed."

"You're not a psycho," Bucky replied, though he didn't argue the _doomed_ part. "You were just deprived and lonely, and... you always have a thing for the bad guys when we watch movies, so..."

"Yeah, God help me, I do," she sighed before turning and lifting herself up on an elbow, smiling down at him. "But I married me a good guy, so that's what counts."

Bucky still after all this time didn't always feel like a good guy, but she had a way of making him feel a little better about himself that kept him hanging on her words like a lifeline at times. This time, he just smiled softly and pulled her down for a kiss. It was gentle and sweet and he somehow wasn't expecting her to deepen the kiss after a moment, sliding her leg between both of his and crawling on top of him fully as her tongue snuck its way into his mouth and made him groan.

"Thought you'd be tired after everything that happened today," he murmured when she started trailing losses across his jaw and along his neck, sending little sparks of pleasure up and down his spine.

"I am, but I've also got all this nervous energy that I need to burn," she said, lifting up her head and shooting him a grin. "And I know a pretty good way of doing that."

"Yeah?" he teased before wrapping his left arm around her waist and easily flipping them over, putting her on her back underneath him as she giggled at the change. "Need me to help you blow off some steam, huh?"

"Well," she blushed, wrapping her arms around his neck. "You're so good at it, so..."

He smirked and then brought his lips to hers again, kissing her deeply and with a passion that time had yet to put a damper on. He couldn't imagine a time where he would ever not want her like this, and Summer, of course, was eternally smitten with him in every way a woman could be. Whenever things between them would threaten to get a little boring or routine, they would always find a way to spice it back up and make things interesting again, and speaking of that...

"Know what I'm looking forward to about going to Asgard?" Bucky asked, kissing under her ear as his hand slid sensually along her skin up her shirt.

"What?" she giggled.

"Sex in space," he replied, and they both cracked up before the passion between them got the better of them, and then they were lost to the love and comfort and satisfaction that they had only ever found in one another, and one another alone.

Life was good. No, it wasn't perfect, and sometimes it was damn hard, but that was true of any life that was worth living. They had faced insurmountable odds in so many ways, from simply finding each other when they had been born 70 years apart to staying together when the world did its very best to rip them away from each other for good.

So while nightmares still came at night and their pasts continued to haunt them, and the threat of new trouble always loomed on the horizon due to the very nature of who they were, they wouldn't let it stop them from living and finding happiness in each other and the little people they had created. The life and the home that they had made for themselves had been worth every trial and every obstacle they'd faced along the way, and the thought of a life without the other in it simply wouldn't be living at all.

They still had their whole lives ahead of them, and a future that could bring anything, both good and bad. Whatever came, they'd face it together, and they knew that they would make it because chances were that they had already faced _much_ worse before.

The next stop on their journey together was Asgard. They couldn't _wait_.


End file.
